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ilovetheriddler · 27 days

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The Enigma Of Love.

(Gotham) Edward Nygma x F!Reader.

Chapter Four.

(This Chapter is entirely from Edward's perspective and recaps some previous events from his point of view. As well as helps to establish what point in Gotham this story takes place, and also a lot of Edward Pining and longing, enjoy!)

Word Count: 1,996.

Contents: A lot of pining, devolving feelings, longing, and slightly suggesting themes and conversations.

It was supposed to be a perfectly normal trip to the library. He simply wanted to pick up some new Riddle books, and also perhaps a mystery novel or two. However, that changed the moment when the front desk came into his field of vision. More specifically, once he had laid his eyes upon you. You were deeply focused on inputing information into the library database. He found the focused look on your face to be... cute. He walked over to the front desk, standing on the side across from you. You didn't seem to notice him. He ultimately decided that the best way to both get your attention and greet you was with a riddle!

"I'm made from trees and can bring people either incredible joy or intense sorrow. I can be short or long, big or small. It can take people a long time to create me or very little, depending on the person. What am i?"

You appeared slightly startled by the sound of his voice. He felt a tad bit guilty about potentially causing you stress. You glanced up at him, and his breath hitched as he found himself getting a bit lost in your gorgeous eyes. Oh dear....

"I... I don't know, what is it?"

Oh god, your voice sounded so perfect to him. He smiled at you as he sat his choices for books down in front of you.

"A book! I um... I'd actually like to check these out... You know if um... it's not too much trouble, that is...?"

"Not at all! That's why I'm here, I just need to see your library card, and if you don't have one, then I'll have to sign you up for one."

He was relieved that he wasn't distracting you from your other task too much. He frantically felt around in his pocket for his library card, his thoughts running rampant. "Oh goodness! Oh dear! Where is it?! It should be in here somewhere, ah! Got it!". He pulled his wallet out and retrieved the card out of it and handed it to you, his face heating up some as his hand accidentally brushed against yours ever so slightly.

He watched with a mixture of nervousness and excitement as you pulled up everything on the computer. He found his focus being drawn to your hands. They looked so soft....

"Quite the um... selection you have here... I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you like riddles and puzzles?"

He was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of you speaking again, pushing his glasses back up some before answering.

"O-oh! Yes, I do enjoy them quite a lot...."

You handed him back his card, which he put back in his wallet and sat down on the counter as he grabbed ahold of his selection of books, adjusting them in his hands so they hopefully wouldn't fall on the ground on his way back to the precinct. You gave him a kind smile.

"Well, I hope that you have an enjoyable day, Mr Nygma. And that you also find those books to be to your liking."

He found your kind and polite smile and farewell to be captivating. He quickly stumbled out a response after a bit.

"O-oh.. um.. i..I will! T-thank you miss!"

He quickly made his way out of the library and started walking back towards the direction of the GCPD building. He glanced over at that one expensive sandwich shop, which he was ninety percent sure was actually just a front for money laundering or something in a similar vain.

He eventually made it back to the GCPD building and walked in, making sure his ID badge was still promently displayed. He noticed Detective Gordon and Bullock clearly arguing and discussing a recent case, Then he saw her, Kristen Kringle. He'd been infatuated with her for quite some time now, Pining for her love and affection, always leaving her well thought out riddles and even reorganizing the filing system for her... which she didn't exactly appreciate. He felt a sense of guilt, however, as he recalled how he had felt his heart speed up when he met you earlier.

How could he feel something for someone else after all of the effort he's put into pursuing Miss Kringle? He felt horrible over it, but he reassured himself that his feelings for you were just an acknowledgment of how kind and attractive you were, not a genuine desire to want to be with you like he felt for Kristen.

He made his way back into the forensics lab and sat down at the nearest table, slipping a new slide underneath the microscope and observing it, taking notes on everything important he found. Ed loved his job. It was something he greatly enjoyed. However It did frustrate him quite a bit over the fact that he had been reprimanded for performing autopsies without explicit approval to do so. The previous examiner didn't know what he was doing. He always missed important things, and Edward knew that he was absolutely being paid off, Which is why he may have framed him for stealing body parts so he would be fired.....he's pulled out of his train of thought by a knock on the door. He immediately heard Detective Gordon's voice on the other side.

"Ed, you have someone here to see you!"

Someone... is here to see him? How peculiar and exciting! He quickly went about attempting to tidy up his workspace somewhat. He needed to look decently presentable. After all, he had no clue as to who was even here visiting him! He felt his breath temporarily leave him, and his eyes light up in both surprise and excitement as he threw open the door and saw you standing there next to Detective Gordon.

"A-ah, it's um... you! What exactly can i... help you with?"

"O-Oh goodness! W-what is she doing here?! Oh dear..." His thoughts ran at a mile per minute as he tried to come up with some reason as to why you'd possibly be visiting him here! At his job! You chuckled at his clearly flustered state and reached into your pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing it to him.

"You forgot this on the library counter, Mr Nygma."

"Oh! T-thank you so much! I'm sorry if this inconvenienced you in any way..."

He quickly took the wallet from you and put it in his pocket. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten something so important! Or the fact that you took the time to return it to him.... you seemed.. very considerate as far as he could tell.

"Don't worry, Mr Nygma. I promise you that it wasn't any trouble at all!"

He felt his heart speed up slightly as you gave him a warm smile. "Oh dear... why does she have to be so kind and nice to me..?" He adjusted his lab coat awkwardly, attempting to find something to do to distract from the temporary silence.

"Well, I should be getting back to the library... my break is almost over!"

"Oh, um... Well, thank you again for doing this. I hope that the rest of your work day goes pleasantly..."

He watched as you walked away. Detective Gordon turned to him once you were gone from sight.

"I didn't think that you had any friends outside of work?"

"F-friend?! Oh, um... you're mistaken, detective. She's simply an acquaintance, nothing more... in fact, I just met her for the first time earlier today..."

In all honesty, Edward would love to be your friend, maybe even more.... but he wasn't ready to admit, acknowledge, or deal with everything tied to... that... idea yet, no, he still loved Kristen, and that's who he was going to pursue!

"Alright... I'll see you some other time then, Ed."

With that, Detective Gordon went on his way, leaving Ed to his work and his own thoughts. He got back to work looking over the samples and writing down everything needed.

Unfortunately, the next week was... less than pleasant for Edward, to say the least. He had started having these bizarre dreams, but oh, were they ever so lovely.... they were always exactly the same. He was sitting in the library, and you'd come sit across from him. The air would smell of honey and ink, and there would always be a piece of paper lying on the table, with a simple riddle scrawled onto it.

"I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I'm sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many, or just one. What am i?"

Love. The answer was love, and Edward immediately knew this. It wasn't really that difficult of a riddle, but it still warmed his heart all the same. He was slowly having to come to terms with the fact that his affection may no longer lie with Miss Kringle and that he might actually be falling for you instead.

Just yesterday, he returned the books he borrowed to the library and also got to walk you home. You hadn't remembered to bring an umbrella, so he had the perfect excuse to be close to you, and he loved every second of it. It was everything he could possibly want. He had refused your offer to let him rest his feet inside your apartment for a bit. He wasn't quite sure if he could handle being in such a... private place with you yet.

That was just last night, and he hadn't stopped thinking about it since. What if... he had agreed to come inside? He would have gotten to speak with you some more... maybe things would have escalated.... oh dear.... he was pulled from his brief fantasies as he heard an amused laugh, one he had unfortunately heard a lot in the past few weeks. He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror.

"What’s so amusing to you..?"

"Oh... It's nothing, I just can't help but find it a bit funny that you want something so desperately and yet don't have the nerve to act on it!"

Edward had started seeing this reflection of himself about a month ago, not long after he had killed Officer Dougherty. He could never allow anyone to ever know what he did. If it had been just one or two stabs, then maybe he could have painted it as self-defense, but over eleven? No, no one would believe that... his reflection couldn't help chiming in again.

"You went through so much trouble for Kristen... and yet now your attention has landed on someone else... I honestly can't really fault you, she is quite attractive..."

"Shut up! Don't speak about her.... you don't know anything about how I feel for her!"

"...We're technically the same person, I'm painfully aware of what you think about her. About how you fantasize about her pinned underneath you, those captivating eyes of hers looking up at you as she writhes in pleasure as you -"

"STOP! O-oh dear... no, i.. I can't think such things about her...."

He quickly finished washing off his face and left his bathroom. He chose to attempt to ignore his reflections words, even if they were true...

A few days later, after work, he made his way down to the library. He had to see you. You'd been consuming his every thought, and it was too much for him to handle. He was going to ask you out today, and that was final!

He walked into the library, looking around for you in a mixture of both nervousness and excitement, but stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes finally landed on you. You were leaning against the main desk, crying your eyes out.

Why... why were you upset...? He then felt something inside him burning as his mind went to a slightly different thought. "Who made her upset?"

#dc comics #batman #edward nygma #the riddler #riddler #gotham #the riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #x reader #fanfic

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 years

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Imagine…Babysitting The Richchesters

Pairing: Richester!Dean x reader

______

“No,” you said from the library, pointing at the trust fund version of Dean to sit back in his seat. You sighed behind your laptop, Sam and Dean out on a case and leaving you behind to babysit the wonder twins.

Dean was holding his finger dangerously close to a sword on a shelf and you tsked him.

“Dean. I said no. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“You are aware that in our universe we are highly skilled hunters,” said Dean, poking the sword and winching, pulling his finger back to suck on the stray drop of blood.

“So is the Dean I know and he does dumb shit like you too. Except he doesn’t have a degree from Harvard and make his hair look goofy.”

“First off, Harvard is overrated. Second, I went to Stanford. Winchester tradition. Third, I do not do dumb stuff. I am a gentleman. Fourth-”

“Says the man sucking on his finger,” you said, scrolling through an online clothes page.

“Oh that’s awful,” said Sam, leaning over from nearby. “That sweater is hideous.”

“Says the man wearing that. I swear you two are going to kill me,” you said. He stood your computer and started to type away, immediately on some designer website. “You find something under sixty bucks and I’ll buy it. How about that?”

“Sixty dollars! That’s impossible,” said Sam. You stood up with a smirk.

“I believe in you Sam,” you said. “You’re a Winchester after all.”

You headed down the hall to your room, smirking when Dean was leaning against your doorframe a few seconds later.

“What can I do for you Dean?”

“Well considering I’m apparently prone to do dumb shit…what about indulging in my dumbness?”

“And just what does that mean.”

“You with the Dean guy here?”

“We fool around time to time but we’re free to see other people. It’s not exclusive.” You sat down on your bed and patted the spot beside you. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “You said your parents have a pretty tight leash on you.”

“What my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I see. So. Sam’s on a wild goose chase and the guys won’t be back until tomorrow. You gonna stand there all night or you wanna do something dumb?”

“Oh something dumb for sure.”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn

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blueberrypancakesworld · 10 months

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Day.4 Gun - Sawtober/Sawcember

warning : blood, use of guns, explicit violence, mention of sexual fantasy

Sawtober/Sawcember masterlist

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

They were the two true policemen, they were the executive force that carried it out on the population. They were the authority of goodness in this abandoned city. They both upheld justice, but at the end of the day this justice looked completely different.

It was the righteousness of a maniacal murderer and an obsessed policeman. Mark Hoffman the apprentice of Jigsaw and Peter Strahm the special agent who wanted to put an end to it.

They were like a medal from the same side and yet, at the end of the day, they had more in common than they wanted to admit.

They both used violence, one more differently than the other and yet they used it. But their favorite use of violence was against each other. It was like a game between them.

Strahm knew that Hoffman was the new Jigsaw and Hoffman knew that Strahm knew. It was all about collecting the evidence and bringing it to the public or destroying it in time.

But they both knew that this something between them was just waiting for them to go one step further. They were more than just rivals who didn't spare each other the slightest bit.

They both took more and more from the other. The more they worked on their case, the more often Hoffman saw Strahm standing in the dark corners of the corridors and factories.

The more often Strahm stayed awake at night staring at his computer screen, the more often he saw Hoffman in the flicker.

The more often they met, the worse things seemed to get between them. It was only a matter of time before they both turned on each other. Everyone knew it. Hoffman knew it and Strahm knew it.

It was only a matter of time before they either killed each other or the game between them went too far. That this hatred would turn into a greater obession and the delusions of grandeur of both would take over the other.

Because in the end, not all such strong emotions are always connected with a touch of love. Even if it is only the desire to strangle the other with one's own hands, as in the case of these two.

But since Hoffman didn't have to work on any machines that evening, he stayed at the police station, went through the files and while it looked from the outside as if he was doing paperwork, he looked for clues he could have left behind.

He played the good cop who had lost so many colleagues. Saying goodnight to the rest of the department and yet knowing that a light was still on in the office across from him.

The two of them were like two wild dogs who begrudged each other nothing and rather tore each other apart. As with everything, all it took was a little nudge or, in their case, a shot.

He knew how to tease Strahm, he wanted to bring out his feelings in him and make him weak. He would rip his throat out at the right moment while Peter would do the same.

With a few files in his hand, he walked out of his office, clearly feeling his weapon on his belt and had already imagined more than once what it would be like to strike Strahm down with it.

To have him kneeling in front of him with the gun in his mouth and to pull the trigger. A thought that excited him and more than just appealed to him. ,,I've found a few more files," he said as he entered without a thought.

He saw his colleague look up from his desk and there was annoyance in his gaze. They were both running on coffee and plain food and the caffeine seemed to be taking its toll on their nerves and patience.

Wordlessly, Strahm pointed to a half-empty space on his desk and Hoffman slipped these onto it. He deliberately scattered a few of the sheets due to the loose office space and heard the annoyed click of his tongue.

,,Was that necessary and if there's nothing left go," Strahm said and set about picking up the leaves again, turning his back to Hoffman. The killer's eyes settled on Strahm. It would be so easy to shoot him and yet the thought of putting the gun on the back of the other man's head.

To force him and finally take what he wanted. ,,Agent Strahm...one thing I can't figure out...we clearly found your fingerprints on one of the traps and everyone thinks it was a mistake," Hoffman began and stopped, standing with his back to Strahm's and both looking over their shoulders at the other.

,,What about it?" asked Peter, who liked the whole thing less and less, especially the situation and the fact that they were alone in a room.

His thoughts ran over and over again to the same picture. Hoffman beaten bloody in front of him with a gun in his mouth and he pulled the trigger.

Watching Hoffman go down, watching every joint, muscle vein, artery and blood from his body hit the floor. He had already seen what happened, had seen a bullet hit a body.

Had seen what such a weapon could do. But Hoffman also knew all too well what weapons could do, what his traps could do, what metal was capable of.

,,Nothing I mean we both know it was you," as soon as he had finished his sentence Strahm jumped up from his chair and hurried over to the man of about the same age. He saw the arrogance in Hoffman's grin and Peter felt his hands clench into fists.

,,I know it's you Hoffman, you fucker, you killed them all and now you're being celebrated as a hero!" he hissed and it took both of them a lot of effort not to go at each other. He had put up with a lot, but accusations and his dead colleagues.

It hurt something inside him. But maybe he just wanted to be right. Wanted to be right so as not to have killed Hoffman for nothing in the end. Something deep inside him would even see this as a pity.

But this seemed to be mutual. ,,You look like shit Strahm," Mark began, stepping towards the other knowing he was crossing the line of personal space. He did it on purpose and was just waiting for the right thing to happen.

,,You're imagining a lot...I mean, maybe you dream about me at night," as soon as he had finished the sentence, Strahm grabbed Hoffman's tie. Took the other one by surprise before Peter's fist hit the face of his counterpart.

He heard the stifled hiss as if Hoffman was holding back an insult. Before he struck again, he felt himself come into contact with his opponent's face again.

He felt something wet on his knuckles and knew it was Hoffman's blood and it excited him. He was about to lunge for the next punch when Hoffman stopped his strike and reached for Strahm's collar instead.

The surprise of the deflected blow, however, meant that the agent had not seen it coming and a groan of pain went through the office as Strahm staggered back.

Hoffman the bastard had hit his lip and through the tingling stupor Strahm saw the blood dripping onto the floor.

,,Wretched scum!" Strahm hissed and wiped his lip with the back of his hand, wincing, but the burst lip only bled more and more. His white shirt was now soaked with bloodstains and gave him a twisted smile.

,,You seem to like it... the way you smile," Hoffman commented, having lost the wide, excited grin, the white teeth now stained with blood and the rapid breathing. ,,And you don't?" Strahm said between breaths and reached for Hoffman, who let him.

He seemed to lose himself in the fight and the man. In the sight of the bleeding glow that haunted him every night. ,,I've got more of this," he said with a hint of arrogance, and in the quick breaths and groaning noises, the click of the gun's holster being released was barely audible.

It was only when Strahm smashed the barrel of the gun into Hoffman's nose that not only the crack but also the painful grunt could be heard. Hoffman, obviously dazed, staggered back and banged against the filing cabinet in Strahm's office.

The special agent saw that Hoffman's blood was oozing from between his fingers - he had broken his nose. He had made him bleed and the exciting prickling feeling in his body made him almost high.

It was intoxicating. It was so intoxicating...he wanted to hit him again and again and again. Over and over again until Hoffman's blood was on his skin.

Mark was still holding his nose and seemed to be struggling with the dizziness as Strahm came at him, the gun still in his hand, he yanked Hoffman back by the hair and looked up into the pained grin of the equally tall man.

Mark's hands had gone to Peter's wrists and were trying to get him off. ,,Show me how good you can be," Hoffman joked and spat blood at Strahm, which hit the agent in the face and he grimaced, disgusted but even more incensed.

It was like a kiss for Hoffman when he saw how his blood spit also hit Strahm's lips and he would have loved to laugh.

Strahm saw the joy Hoffman felt at the excitement they both felt at hurting each other and only wanted to punish his opponent even more.

He wanted to make him finally do it. Tearing Hoffman away from the cupboard by his hair, he thundered his opponent against the wall of the office.

He could feel the tension in the other man's body and knew that Hoffman wasn't finished yet. On the contrary, because of their proximity, he lashed out with his elbow and hit Peter in the stomach.

The pain and nausea immediately hit the investigator, who pushed Hoffman away, cursing. ,,Son of a bitch!" hissed Strahm, who tried not to writhe in the pain that coursed through his body and the adrenaline did nothing to ease it.

At the same moment he felt Hoffman's teeth digging into his hand as he tried to reach for it. The pain went through him again and Hoffman had drawn blood.

Yet when he stood up again, they were facing each other again, Hoffman in front of him and Strahm in front of Hoffman. But this time it was different. Both had their weapons pointed at the other.

They both swung at each other, but their looks said more than a thousand words. Hate and anger and yet in all this chaos, the smell of blood around them was like wild animals and excited them both.

Hoffman and Strahm both stepped closer to each other and Peter saw the other man run his bloody tongue over the gun.

The special agent's gun was stained and yet he knew he wanted to see it. ,,Fucking whore," the black-haired man muttered and saw the almost amused smile of Hoffman, who was still bleeding from the nose. He had often enough imagined seeing the other choking on his cock in front of him.

Taking him against the wall like a little bitch. But Hoffman also wanted to fuck Strahm's brains out in a machine and record the whole thing. To let his power rule and to show and give it to him over and over. It was more than just brutality. It was the desire for blood, violence and sex.

But Strahm kissed the end of Hoffman's weapon and mutilated it. ,,Like two wild dogs," Strahm said, almost laughing himself, had they not both pulled the trigger. They knew that as soon as they applied enough pressure with their fingers, the bullet would be fired.

They both slowly put more and more of it on the trigger. But when Strahm's blue eyes met Hoffman's, they both saw exactly that.

The need for violence and intimacy. The need for the other. Before they turned their gaze to the bloodied lips that seemed even more beautiful.

They collided and the kiss was between them. They were both completely absorbed in the pain and yet the weapons were still between them.

The pistols were at each other's lips on each other's chests. Feeling the racing heartbeat underneath and yet. When they both tasted each other's blood when the high point was between them and it seemed silent.

The rush of blood had stopped roaring in their ears and before they could dare to come down from their trip it was at that moment that two shots rang through the police station.

It wasn't the kiss they'd had seconds before. It was the kiss of the guns that spoke for them both. Strahm had finally shot Jigsaw and Hoffman had shot the man standing in his way.

But just as the bullets dug into their hearts, their kiss seemed to become more intimate and dissolve into a pool of blood.

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

@a-reading-dreamer , @megustadilf , @misslavenderlady , @callmeklarise , @mysunfishpeedinmyroom

#sawtober #sawcember #saw #saw movies #mark hoffman #peter strahm #saw mark hoffman #saw peter strahm #coffinshipping #Spotify #hoffstrahm

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steele-soulmate · 3 months

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 605, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1128

“Baby Tommy, Baby Tommy, little round tummy,” I sang as Baby Tommy drifted off to sleep in my arms, having received his eyedrops and taken his oral medication for Bell’s Palsy. “Baby Tommy, Baby Tommy, kiss kiss kiss.”

“Kissie, kissie, kissie…” he babbled as I pressed a motherly kiss to his temple before laying him down in the space between Peter’s and my marital bed. “Kissie, kissie, kissie…”

I turned to where Peter was browsing on his laptop computer, his glasses teetering dangerously on the edge of his nose as he read the clearly interesting article on his screen.

“My love?” I hummed quietly as Baby Mattie let out a snort before curling in deeper to his little sister. “What are you reading?”

“An article on Bell’s Palsy in children,” he answered me, his voice also soft as he finished reading and shut his laptop computer down for the night. “I’m trying to educate myself more on what Baby Tommy has.”

“Ah,” I cooed, punching my pillows and making them comfy to relax into bed for the night. “You’re the best daddy to our kids.”

“And to you?” he teased me, laying down and rolling over so that we both could continue talking to each other. “Am I your daddy as well?”

“You will be a dead daddy if you don’t shut up and go to sleep,” Katie grumbled just then, causing me to cover my mouth, stifling my giggles of mirth.

“Sorry Katie,” Peter apologized at once before leaning over everyone to bless me with a sweet goodnight kiss. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight my love,” I whispered. “See you in the morning.”

“Finally!” huffed the half asleep little girl. “Now go to sleep!”

~xoXox~

The next day, Baby Tommy was back to doing baby zoomies, but now he was wearing a dark green eye patch to protect his unblinking eye from becoming injured while he recovered from his mild case of Bell’s Palsy. The other babies seemed to pick up on the fact that he had suffered a baby booboo and were all gentle with the chubby little man as they all raced around the house and got into mischief.

“Mommy? Can I take a bubble bath?” Katie asked me, limping into the kitchen, her bright red cast covered in messy scribbles from the babies. “Please?”

I looked up from scheduling a time to have Ryley take more X-rays of Katie’s broken foot in preparations of fitting her with the 3D cast that Elizabeth had made.

“Sure, let me wrap your cast up.” I opened the cupboard underneath the sink and took out a trash bag, grabbing the roll of duct tape that was on the kitchen counter. “Lead the way now!”

Once I had wrapped Katie’s cast to not get wet, I returned back downstairs, where I found Elizabeth teaching the babies a sweet hand slap game of Down by the Banks.

“Down by the banks of the hanky panky, where the bullfrog jumps from bank to banky, with an E, I, O, U, it got on a lily with a big kerr-plop!”

Giggles and hugs all around as Baby Mattie scooped back, joining Baby Tommy and Baby Noah.

I smiled at the sweet picture, and snapped a quick picture.

@Mary_Claire_Ratajczyk_Official, look at this #too sweet #Ratajczykfamilymoment! @elizabethharp and Katie both are literally the best big sisters to the babies!

#Ratajczyksisters #thebestbigsisters #Ratajczykbabies #sweetmemories #livelaughlove

@kellykent, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW…!

@midnightshadowpuppet, yes the bestest sisters to exist in the whole wide world

@chocolaterobotchicken, hold on to these memories, because they won’t remain this small forever!

@therealpetersteeleoffical, my sweetheart is the reason why Bitty and Katie are awesome big sisters to the babies! #fightme

@MissMittensthemotherlycat, THOSE ARE MY KITTENS #MEOWPOWER

I giggled at the stack of comments before tucking my cell phone away back into my bra once more, watching as the game progressed until finally, it was just big sister Elizabeth and little sister little girl.

“Down by the banks of the hanky panky, where the bullfrog jumps from bank to banky, with an E, I, O, U, it got on a lily with a big kerr-plop!”

Little girl let out a triumphant screech as she was declared the winning,

“YAY YAY!” she yelled as the other babies began to dance around her, creating the picture of little worshippers paying tribute towards their goddess.

“YAY YAY!” they happily chorused, almost all at once as Peter came in from his office. “YAY YAY!”

“Sweetheart, why are the babies so happy?” he wondered as little girl charged up to her favorite person in the entire world and sat on his foot with a quiet little babble.

“Oh, they’re the slaves of the great Little Girl goddess herself,” I deadpanned, breaking out into amused laughter as he scooped up the happy five year old girl before being swarmed by the Ratajczyk family babies.

“Are you a goddess little girl?” he chuckled, picking her up and then holding her up to his face with a playful glower on his face.

“Pook!” she giggled, poking him in the eye and then cackling as he almost dropped her.

“Jesus, little girl!” he grumbled.

“JeeJee Chris looks like me!” little girl declared cheekily.

“If you say so!” Peter then turned to me, creating such the funny picture of him holding little girl with the other babies attached to his legs. “Sweetheart, what are you making for dinner?”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-nooldle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

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iro-rautatiski · 11 months

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The History of Ruin's Heir

What's "Ruin's Heir"?

Ruin's Heir is a fantasy comic, published at ComicFury by me.

After the gateway to the realm of death has been shattered, the balance of the world has been disturbed, slowly being eaten away by the deadly matter know as "the ruin". Vervain, a young wolf, finds that he has a deep connection to the Grimgrove and its ruin. In order to prevent the inevitable, he must find his True Name.

First page was published 9th April 2023, but the history of this story goes way back to the year 2011. I have now written some of it down, mostly for myself, but if you have found yourself curious and want to give it a read, I welcome you with warmth.

Nemorosa and Vervain

2011 - Parantajan oppipoika

The beginning

At this point in my life I had spent about three years watching YouTube animated series about dogs.

I also did create my own series, several, even before this one, but never published those anywhere, and sadly I do not have them anymore. 2010 December I got my very first own computer, and I got absolutely hog-wild with the new-found freedom of interwebs.

At the age of 12, I finally created my very own YouTube account.

I of course had to create my very own dog (or in this case, wolf) series. I pulled out my trusty MsPaint, and started to work without too much thought about the plot, or anything.

Just wanted to do something, probably came up with the designs at the spur of the moment too.

Juniper and Vervain

The series was called Parantajan oppipoika, until I changed the name to Apprentice, thinking that... English is cool? I don't think though that I ever succesfully released an episode with the new name, so Apprentice didn't really stick. So Parantajan oppipoika it is.

The series had 2 finished apisode, third one was left unfinished.

Which sounds kinda underwhelming. But despite its short visit at the time, Parantajan oppipoika would leave a mark in my heart that was waiting for its next opportunity to shine.

Story

Vervain, young member of the wolf pack, dreams nothing more than being a healer's apprentice. When the day comes that the pack's healer, Clover, chooses her apperentice, Vervain is very excited and hopeful about the end result. But he is left dissapointed, when instead of him, his friend Dandelion is chosen. Some days after the ceremony, Vervain notices that Dandelion seems very tired and absent, barely responding when he asks her anything. Without his knowledge, Dandelion has been suffering from the nightmarish visions she started to get after she was appointed as a healer's apprentice. Next evening, Vervain follows a raven, who guides him to find Dandelion at the forest, killed by a bear. Clover blaming herself, believes this was a sign that her decision was a mistake, and appoints Vervain as her new apprentice.

Poor Dandelion...

Inspirations

At the time, I have just got into Warrior Cats, and it was also very clear with Parantajan oppipoika. Pack's structure, nature themed names, and concept of the healer all came from there. I also remember that Vervain's name was taken straight from Watership Down, from the character with the same name.

Videos etc.

Not much material is left from this time, which is a big shame for me personally, as I would love to see the first 2 episodes again.

Though, some materials are still intact, and I'll cherish them.

The first opening of Parantajan oppipoika.

youtube

To this very day I still associate this song to Ruin's Heir. Kinda hoping that someday I could animate something to it...

Unfinished "new" opening

youtube

I remember being very, very proud of this one. And honestly, good for you, 12-13 years old Iro, you indeed did good. I think the development between these two openings are visible already.

Unfinished episode 3

(with a placeholder music, I think the original had The Lion King music), pretty short, but oh... the relic....

I think this is all I have to say about the first version of this story, for now.

Hassireeee, Veervain

2013 - Hour of the Wolf

The resurrection

Parantajan oppipoika went to the slumber for time being, and I didn't finish episode 3. If I remember right, I didn't do much with these characters after cancelling the series.

But, in 2013 they returned. I started to work on the reboot, called "Hour of the Wolf"

I literally forgot it was called that. Anyways.

I must admit that I don't remember much specifics from this era, I found an outline for the planned episodes so nevermind about not remembering.

Once again, I was planning on making an animated series, but this time with less success than before. Not a single episode were finished.

But looking at the outline, there was a plan for 16 episodes in total.

Some aspects from 2011 version were kept, but some were also dropped. Vervain didn't want to be a healer anymore, and whole concept of healers seemed to be absent from this version in general. Instead story now focused more on the relationship between Vervain ja Raven, and also war that our main pack, Tyrmäinen, was having with "Bonefangs" pack.

Even though a lot has changed since this version of the story, it did an important groundwork for its future. A lot characters that exits nowadays, were created back then. Even some plot points, though with drastic changes, have stayed in some form.

Sedum and Bracken

Goldenrod, Bracken, Nuphar (down), Sedum, Woundwort, and Majalis

Characters

Sedum and Bracken were old faces from the 2011, but most of the pack's youngsters were created 2013. Nuphar, Pillwort, and Majalis are still part of the cast today. Twins Woundwort and Golderod were part of the story for a long time before being cut 2022.

Vervain and Raven

Vervain bond with ravens was now strengthened. Especially with this one raven, who was also his father's old Guardian, and only thing that the villain, Elder, was truly afraid of. Raven's characterization, and purpose for the story has changed several times after this, but presence of the Raven has been kept strong ever since.

Story

After the death of Dandelion, Vervain finds an injured wolf named Juniper. She is taken in, and she warns the pack about approaching rival pack, Bonefangs, who she also was part of formerly. After the presence of bonefangs has been made known, security measures are tightened, and atmosphere in the pack gets heavy. At the same time, Vervain meets Raven, who seems to be his, and unknowingly to him, his deceased father's Guardian. War between the two wolf packs goes on, until tragedy strikes the pack, and it's rumored that among them there's a traitor…

Elder, Vervain, and Raven

As I'm reading this outline now, I'm thinking "damn, I really did read Harry Potter back then didn't I?"

Some of the plotlines were almost straight from there...

Videos

Unfinished opening

youtube

Unfinished episode (I think)

youtube

Didn't get far, but cool.

2015 - Kaarnen Herra

The new era

I still quite like this name I had. It's translated "Lord of the Raven", and I pretty much got it from Lord of the Rings. Good naming technique I would say.

Apparently I started to do reboots every two years.

Once again, I wanted to make a youtube animated series. Because I never learn.

Though this time I learned a little bit, and opted out from making a fully animated series, and instead used minimal amount of pictures. Episode 1 was still left unfinished, because the workload still didn't fit me.

Nemorosa and Vervain

This is probably when this story started to have more online presence. I'm still surprised when people leave a comment somewhere and actually know Vervain's name off the bat.

Even thought this is probably the point where magic wolves' hold over my brain capacity got stronger than ever before, it's also the era where I feel I made my biggest mistake and regret with this story. It was when I put feathers on their heads, unknowingly enforcing racist stereotypes about native people.

I always struggled to find justification lore-wise for why they even had those, so when I finally realized and decided that this whole thing actually comes from a very harmful place, and should be removed, I myself felt very relieved.

This is the time in my life I did a lot drawings and videos about Kaarnen Herra, but I can't say that I would feel comfortable sharing all of it so freely nowadays.

Story

Life at Tyrmänkä's pack has been ever so peaceful, until a weird strom rises. Vervain notices that this has made his friend Dandelion restless, and when he sees that she has went to the forest alone, he follows. Vervain stumbles on to the scene, when Dandelion is trying to bind down an angered spirit, costing her life. Spell however has got its hold on Vervain too, and slowly it rips more and more away his life. One way to save his own life would be to void the spell and release the spirit, but that would possibly cost his pack's life if done so. Luckily, helpful Raven and a stoat named Portimo wants to help him to find another way to save himself...

Vervain and Bracken

Characters

This version brought many new characters, but for this I wanted to showcase these two selectet characters, which I feel have been more influential. Portimo and Tormentil.

Tormentil and Portimo

Portimo

At first there was supposed to be three stoats, capable of merging into one big stoat monster, but at some point, three turned into just one character. (Stoat monster was however apparently kept at least some time after this, for some reason.)

I can't remember where the idea of having a villanous small stoat came from, but I thank the past me of this. Nowadays it's hard to think of this story without Portimo.

Portimo changed a lot tings about the plot, and was even some sort of main villain of the series. Kuilunka, formerly Bonefangs, then became more sympathetic, although still antagonistics.

His name by the way is just a old finnish name for stoats. So his name is just Stoat 👍

Tormentil

Tormentil is a mix of old and new, as her intial inspiration came way back from 2011, from Parantajan oppipoika.

Back then Elder (who was named Vomitflower back then.... I have found no proof that such flower exists, but it might be inspired by the plant called ipecacuanha).

Anyways, Elder/Vomitflower had a sidekick, whose trope was "even more sadistic than the boss". Back then her name was Cactus-spike.

Cactus-spike got a massive overhaul designwise, and a new name, since I didn't want these wolves to know what cacti are. She pretty much became a new character, but fullfilling the same initial role as previously.

Her role also grew a lot from what I originally planned, mostly because I got a such positive feedback from her, and I wanted to utilize her potential more.

Videos

Opening

youtube

Unfinished episode 1

youtube

2019 - Goodbye animation

Finally I came to the conclusion that I can't work on this story in form of animation, and instead decided to try dip myself back into the wolrd of comics.

And by back I mean that I used to do a lot comics when I was 7-12 years old, but stopped working on those after getting more into doing animations instead.

There were actually two tries, before I started to publish pages publicly. First one I treated more like a test from the beginning, to see how it feels to work on the comic.

Page 1. Ohto Page 2. Nemorosa and Vervain

End result was: It felt pretty nice. My confidence towards this new approach grew, and decided that this would be something I wanted to try in the long run.

I stopped this first run after 12 pages, reworked some aspects of the story, and started to work on the real deal.

But I clearly still had some things to learn....

2020 - Setback

The plot got very big changes, with the threat of the apocalypse looming over the characters now. As I wanted to strengthen to conflict within the world, and make it affect the characters.

With these new additions, some new characters were also brought in (or old ones totally reworked).

Everhalo and Ruinkeeper

New characters

Raven's character got a total overhaul. Now instead of being Vervain's companion, she became the Spirit of death, and was named Ruinkeeper.

This change also later contributed to why story's name was renamed Ruin's Heir (or the finnish name, Kalman lapsi). As I felt that no one would feel any lordiness over this Raven anymore, so I felt that it didn't fit anymore.

With the Spirit of death, there was also added Spirit of life, Everhalo. Who seems to have his own agenda in the grand scheme of things.

I worked on the first chapter, year had passed already and the chapter was close to the finish line.

I had done 34 pages, but finishing the last 7 pages felt too much.

Tormentil, Elder, and Ruinkeeper

I believe that I did a mistake in complicating the backgrounds for the actual comic. Instead of doing a lined work like I did back in my first version, I tried to give it more painted look. So now it didn't feel so good to do anymore, and I felt like I had to do something differend...

So I did what you're always told to not to do when working on comics, and started over.

2022- Ruin's Heir

This is the version I finally started to publish to ComicFury.

The scene did had some chages, but the basic idea was kept same. Tormentil needs to kill Ruinkeeper.

Some pages were reused, and the color palette kept same.

Tormentil, Elder, and Ruinkeeper

I do count this and the previous version of chapter 1 in the same era, as the actual story has no big changes made between these.

Two characters had redesigns though, Elder and Vervain

Elder (old and new)

Vervain

Changing Vervain's design especially felt like I was about to do a crime. But just how with the name change, I just felt that his older design didn't work with his character anymore. Even though I had grown very attached to it.

Luckily, I can say that I'm now quite happy with his design.

The End

At this very moment I'm writing this paragraph, I'm working on the chapter two, with the last six pages work in progress. So far my feelings toward making this comic has been very positive, and it's one of the rays of joy that I have at the moment.

I admit it's one my fears that what if someday I'm not able to work on it anymore? But I guess it's no use to worry too much about the future, while still having this very moment at the hand.

Will I change my mind about this comic in two years? Could be plausible, when looking at my past set records of reboot after reboots. But it's okay, and I'm trying to follow my principle, which pretty much is "follow your heart, it's yours after all".

#Youtube #oc #rambles #ruin's heir #long post

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anika-ann · 2 years

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Love on the Brain - sneak peek chapter 6.1

Warnings: drama, mentions of stalking, and a CM surprise 🥰

You heard the call disconnect, the frozen room coming back to life judging by the shuffling. You looked to your right when you felt Steve’s large hand gently curling around your fist, summoning a smile for him – albeit a lame one.

He needed your head in the game; he needed a supportive friend who’d have his back. Not a weepy shaking weakling. He needed this crazy-ass delusional stalker gone so he could go back to his normal life as soon as possible. He needed a professional BAU agent.

And you were going to give him exactly what he deserved; even if his deep blue eyes told you he would accept anything less than that too.

Loosening your fist, you squeezed his hand shortly before dropping it and rising to your feet.

“We need to get moving. Spence-“ you turned to him, already seeing him making his way to the board to take notes of what you just learned. “Thanks.”

“What’s the game plan?” Emily asked no one in particular, but automatically turned to Hotch, the team leader. “This is a clear escalation. Two contacts in two days. Less personal touch, but more defined threat of violence towards the women and somehow… more protective of Steve too.”

“I agree. We need to get the NYPD on this, or your agents,” he beckoned to Tony and Natasha, naturally leaving out Steve – the subject of the case – out of the action. Even if the subject appeared much less shell-shocked than you felt; he probably was, because you were in love with a reckless idiot. “The women for questioning shouldn’t arrive alone.”

“On it,” Natasha chipped, exchanging a look with Tony, walking to his computer to choose from the most trustworthy – hopefully trustworthy – agents.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage wild at the thought: hopefully trustworthy. The circle of truly trusted people became absurdly short after yesterday – the most trusted people were in this room. And they needed to stay here.

You knew it made you the biggest asshole in the world but you were just fine with the Avengers and the BAU being exclusively around Steve. You wished no harm to anyone, but if it came down to Steve or some random woman… as much as you’d give everything to protect all, you had your priorities straight.

The person you cared about the most was here, safe, and it had to stay that way.

Momentarily lost in thought, you barely registered the dialling tone from the phone in Hotch’s hand. However, you certainly heard the voice on the other end.

“You called the hot line. Would you like to talk to someone special?”

For the second time that morning, all noise and movement in the room stopped, only the startled faces of the Avengers snapping to the source of the peculiar greeting that could only be a misdial.

Your gaze flickered between all of them – your former colleagues clearly stiffening a laugh, Hotch’s eyes closing as he realized his mistake of putting the phone on speaker right away – and despite everything, you burst out laughing, the action incredibly liberating.

-.-.-

I apologize to non-CM readers, but I simply had to share... maybe itwill make someone smile this weekend 😘

School is eating me up, but I’m trying here...

#fanfiction #love on the brain sneak peek #bau agents reader #former bau agent reader #steve rogers x reader #anika ann

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skylarmoon71 · 3 months

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Lance Sweets (Bones) - Crossover AU - Chapter 6

“Heat vision, really?”

He’s been grilling you about your powers for the last three weeks. You really shouldn’t be amazed, he is a book nerd after all.

Sweets has slowly been making progress on the journal that you handed him. It’s about as thick as an encyclopedia. So whenever he gets through a section, he comes to you to question or just stare at you with that excited grin like he just found out Santa Claus exists.

“Yes Dr. Sweets. Remember that time I threatened you, well the red wasn’t exactly a christmas light trick.” You casually sip your coffee in your office.

“But you weren’t really going to barbeque me right?”

“Right about now I’m considering it.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding. That would be too much of a hassle to explain.”

“Good to see you have your priorities straight.”

You grin into your cup as he flips through another page.

“This is amazing. Recording your life in this book, the experiences of your powers, that must have been extraordinary.”

“On Krypton we weren’t exactly superpowered. Our abilities were the same as humanity. There were soldiers and regular civilians. Your strength was determined by your own sheer will and training. From what I concluded, the sun in this atmosphere has a strange effect on us. That’s why control is so important. My parents taught me that abusing these gifts was wrong. It wasn’t easy for me, but I understood. Humanity is strong as they are fragile. Taking advantage of that would make me a coward.”

Sweets is always pleasantly surprised by your ideologies. Sometimes you said some really Booth-like things.

“That’s a great way to look at it.”

You nod, directly your gaze back to the computer. His sudden gasp after he reads over a page diverts your attention.

“You can fly!!”

“If you keep reacting like that everytime you find out something new I might have to start getting paid.”

“You have to admit that’s wild. You can actually fly.”

“Yes. It’s actually pretty easy. I can’t imagine any of the other kryptonians having an issue learning that skill. It took me two days to learn.”

“It’s so crazy how lightly you take all of this. Your entire existence is absolutely amazing.”

That statement makes you flush slightly. Sweets doesn’t notice, because he has his nose right back into the book.

Fidgeting in your spot, you’re grateful that he isn’t the one with super hearing, because for a moment it felt like your heart had betrayed you.

“You’ve been getting along really well with Sweets.”

Angela’s statement makes you nod. After that day you brought everyone cookies the team seems to have adopted you. Angela had basically kidnapped you to have lunch with her and Hodgins. You were all waiting for Booth and Brennan to stop by.

“He’s a good friend.” You comment.

It’s true. Not many people would be so calm about your existence. You know Hodgins would lose his mind if he ever found out.

“Yeah, given the way you completely ripped into him that first time I’m surprised.” Angela kicks him from under the table.

“Oww!”

You smile.

“I’m grateful he didn’t hold a grudge. I was dealing with a lot at the time.”

“We understand sweetie, you don’t have to explain yourself.” She sends a look to Hodgins who remains quiet in his seat.

“Sorry we’re late!” Booth calls.

Brennan is right at his side and they join you as they begin filling in on the case. You’re not really listening to the conversation, more the way they are. How easily they work together despite them all being complete opposites. It’s somewhat encouraging.

“It’s either that or an alien.”

That pulls your attention.

“Come on Hodgins, last week you thought we had the bones of John F. Kennedy. Can you let it go.”

“But you have to admit it makes sense. Aliens do exist. “ Hodgins argues.

“I agree with Dr. Hodgins. I do believe in aliens.”

They all direct their attention to you.

“I’m an alien. “

The group begins to laugh and you smile.

“Hah ha, laugh it up, it's very funny.”

They are entertaining to be with, especially Hodgins.

“You said that?” Sweets smiles.

“I did. His reaction was funny.”

Sweets just shakes his head with a laugh.

“I suddenly believe all of Hodgins' theories.”

“He’s not exactly wrong. Kryptonians aren’t the only species out there.”

“There’s more!”

“Dozens more. My father and I visited a lot of different galaxies. I even got to see lanterns.”

“Lanterns?”

“Yes. The species usually varies, but they are typically protectors. At least most of them are. They have rings that provide their powers. How my dad explained it, the ring usually chooses who yields it. Similar to the tales of excalibur. All the rings are powered by an emotion. So you can imagine that not all of them are good. My dad’s best friend was a blue lantern. It’s said to be the hardest to control. He used to create ships with his ring and fly me around.”

You can’t help but smile at the memory.

Sweets enjoy the fondness of your expression as you speak about your past. He realizes that you’ve probably haven’t thought about all of this since you were a kid. Much less spoken to anyone about it.

“Your father sounds like he was an amazing man.”

“He was. When I was little I wanted to get the engraving for love on my arm. My brother had gotten it without my dad’s permission and I wanted to do the same. I was still young, and the elders regard engravings the same way humans view tattoos.”

Sweets laughs, because he gets it.

“Getting a child a tattoo isn’t exactly great parenting. Even if he let me have it my mom might have strangled him if she found out. So instead, he made me a necklace. “

Your fingers graze the metal and he marvels at it. So many times he’d seen you tug at it, he knew it held some importance. He just didn’t realize just how significant it really was.

“As painful as it is, I’m fortunate to have the memories that I do. The thought of being an infant and not knowing who I am or where I came from would have been more devastating. I’m grateful for the time I did have.”

He understands. Before taking this job he’d been going through a rough patch of his own.

“My adoptive parents died shortly before I took this job. I loved them more than anything in the world. Losing them broke a piece of me, but I never regretted anything. Knowing them, loving them. They made me into the person I am today.”

You can’t say you expected that.

“I miss them everyday.” He admits.

His eyes look a bit glossy, and this time, you are the one giving comfort. The same he’s so easily extended to you, even when you were hostile. You take his hand, and he wears a little smile as he laughs, despite the tears that follow.

“This is nice.” He says between the little sniffs.

“It is.”

#lancesweets #bones 2005 #kryptonian #trust #secrets #sweetsxreader #friends #care #humor #love #powers #cute

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bedobedo-kincare-archived · 2 years

Photo

@citizenoftmrrwlnd said: hello! i can’t remember if i already requested, ignore this if it’s a duplicate! could i request a stimboard for a noncanon red addison (deltarune)? maybe with the color red, webcore or old computers, cities, and hand stims?

thank you so much! no worries if you don’t do this. /gen :) [kin, center image by @citizenoftmrrwlnd]

hello! this board was really fun to look for stims for, i hope you like it!

credits: 🟥 🟥 🟥 | 🟥 🟥 | 🟥 🟥 🟥

- mod albedo

#come into being! ; request complete #red addison kin #deltarune kin #addison kin #deltarune stimboard #fictionkin stimboard #fictkin stimboard #fictionkin #fictkin #tw hands #tw flashing #/just in case the computer gifs are too wild

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ssa-montgomery · 3 years

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'Cause You Can Be The Beauty, And I Could Be The Monster

Word Count: 4674

Summary: Y/N teases Hotch over a four-day case and she gets exactly what she wants when they arrive back at Quantico.

Characters: Hotch x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub, light BDSM, blow jobs, vaginal sex, office sex, desk sex, authority kink

A/N: So while I used some of the prompts from the request list this actually wasn't a request. My imagination just ran wild and this is what we ended up with! I'm actually pretty happy with how this turned out and it's the longest smut fic I've written! I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to leave me some more Hotch requests :D

Prompts: "If we get caught I'm blaming you." "Say my name again."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

"Come in and close the door." You heard Hotch's commanding voice call out as you knocked against the door to his office. The door was already opened just a crack and you slipped inside shutting it fully behind you. The only sound in the room was the click of the lock and your heels on the floor as Hotch remained silent. He kept his eyes down not even looking up from the case file in front of him as you shifted awkwardly, holding you in the suspense of what was about to happen.

The team arrived back from a case just an hour before and you had barely settled in at your desk to start your write up and paperwork when your computer screen lit up with a notification. You opened it to see an email from Hotch, a brief one with the only information being that you two "needed to talk." Normally an email like that would panic you but this time, you knew exactly what he meant by that. If anything you were surprised he hadn't called you into his office as soon as you arrived back from the airstrip.

The case you just worked on went on for four days and on the first night you came up with an idea. There was something you'd been wanting to try with Hotch for a while now but you were yet to ask him about it, afraid that he would turn the idea down. You spent the following days on the case teasing him in every way you knew how hoping he would finally give you what you'd been wanting. Now walking into his office with the door closed behind you and his blinds already drawn you were almost certain he would.

The two of you had been dating for months now but you were still keeping it a secret from the rest of the team for now. With them unaware you usually kept things professional at work, only spending time together on the jet while the others slept or busied themselves with work and in the hotel at night to keep it subtle but this time was different. You wanted to see what kind of a reaction you could get out of Hotch if you pushed the limits, pushing down every button you knew he had as you tested his authority at every chance you could. You let your more bratty side show as you argued with him over parts of the profile you disagreed with, ignoring his warnings to keep your attitude in check. It was obvious on the flight home that it had worked. You'd never seen him as worked up and frustrated as he was on that flight.

Hotch finally glanced up from his work, his head tilting slightly to the side seemingly surprised at your now suddenly polite and well-behaved attitude. You smiled sweetly at him when he finally met your eyes, acting as if you didn't know why you were there. He let out a sigh and threw the pen he was holding down onto his desk, running his hand down his face.

"I think you know what this is about Y/N." He said keeping his voice professional as he spoke but you could hear the clear tone of annoyance underneath. You knew this was all part of Hotch's game too, feeding into what he knew you wanted from him. If your behaviour over the last few days had truly annoyed him in a professional sense he would have told you so. Boundaries were set at the beginning of your relationship and you would never push him too far. Especially not at work, it was too big of a risk to jeopardise your work. "Your behaviour and attitude over the past few days have been simply unacceptable."

"I'm sorry Sir." You dropped your voice and nodded letting your eyes fall to the floor to avoid his disappointed gaze. It was you that first brought up the idea of adding a dominant and submissive aspect to your relationship one night while you were discussing your interests. Hotch was unsure at first, afraid that he would push you further than you were comfortable with but once you assured him that nothing he did could ever make you feel uncomfortable - and if he did you would always let him know immediately - the role came naturally to him. After all, he spent all day every day in a position of power over others and respect at work so bringing it into your personal life hadn't been a drastic change.

"An apology isn't good enough, I expect to see a drastic change from now on," Hotch stated firmly, a sharp edge to his voice. He pushed his chair out from under his desk and stood up then. You waited for a moment to see if he would move towards you but he remained exactly where he was, leaning forward slightly with his hands planted on his desk.

"Of course, I'll do better." You assured him with a nodded before turning towards the door to leave the room. You purposefully didn't respond to him the way you knew he wanted you to, hoping it would be enough to finally break his resolve and get him to make a move. You smirked to yourself as you took your time in opening the door, closing your hand around the handle and waiting a second before you twisted it open. You only managed to pull it open a few centimetres before Hotch was behind you slamming it closed. You spun around at the sudden movement and were met with the sight of him towering over you as he stood directly behind you. He had one hand still on the door stopping you from moving, essentially pinning you against the door. You could see the hungry look in his eyes as he stared you down, his eyes dragging up and down your body as he dropped his hand behind you to lock the door.

"What was that?" He questioned, taking another step, moving in even closer forcing you backwards until your back hit the door. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his fan out across your neck when he spoke.

"I promise I'll be good Sir." You corrected yourself starting at him through your thick lashes. You'd suspected that Hotch had an authority kink since you started dating him. You'd noticed that his expression would change every time you referred to him in a professional manner at work but it wasn't until one night that you jokingly called him sir while teasing him and you saw his reaction that you knew for sure. Even now you could see his eyes darken as he reacted to your words and whatever little self-restraint he had managed to hold onto disappeared.

He leaned forward then, closing the gap between you as his chest pressed flush against yours and he finally, finally kissed you. It was a rough, demanding kiss. His hands gripped at your hips trying to pull you impossibly closer to you, the grip hard enough that you were certain it would bruise if you didn't have the barrier of your skirt. He brought one hand up to hold your chin tugging slightly as he urged you to open your mouth to his demanding tongue. You gave in and parted your lips, letting out a small moan when he slid his tongue into your mouth. This was everything you had wanted the whole time you were away on the case and more. All you wanted more than anything was to hand your control over to Hotch. To let him dominate you while he reminded you of how good he could make you feel and made you forget every bad thing that happened while you were at work.

Hotch pulled you from your thoughts as his head dipped downwards, focusing his attention onto your neck instead. He started by pressing his lips to the sensitive spot behind your ear before moving to nip at the skin just below your jaw, lapping his tongue over the red mark to soothe the slight sting. He moved downwards until he reached your collarbone, repeating the process as he did leaving a path of red marks in his wake as he did. You knew exactly what he was doing. Whenever he got worked up like this he always left hickeys across your skin where he knew it would be visible to others as a sign that you were his, and only his.

"You know what," He started as he lifted his head, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. The combination of his low, gravelly voice and his hot tone sent a shiver straight down your spine. You rested your head against his shoulder, listening as he spoke. "Since you've decided to run that pretty little mouth of yours all week, why don't we put it to good use hmm?"

You quickly nodded your head and detangled yourself from Hotch's grip as he stepped away from you. You watched him walk back towards his desk and start to move his name plaque and files away from the middle of the desk. Once it was clear he sat down on the edge and beckoned you over as he raised a questioning eyebrow. Grinning at him you finally pushed yourself away from the door and followed him to the desk. You leaned in and pressed one final heated kiss to his lips before you dropped to your knees in front of him. You ran your hands up and down his thighs before glancing up at him with a spark in your eyes.

He reached out and cupped your cheek in your hand, moving his thumb to run across your lips tugging lightly at your bottom lip. You held his gaze as you stuck our tongue and let it run across the pad of his thumb. His hands were calloused from years of working with guns but his touch was always gentle against your skin. Hotch watched you as you let your eyes fall closed and leaned forward to suck gently on his thumb. Only a taste of what was to come. After a minute he pulled his thumb out of your mouth, running it across your lips one last time before he took his hand away completely and let you focus your attention back on what you both really wanted.

Reaching out you grasped his belt buckle, taking your time as you opened it and pulled it painstakingly slow through each loop of his pants. Once it was off you tossed it aside and focused your attention on his fly instead. Hotch lifted his hips as you unzipped it and helped you pull his pants down his legs until you could discard them to the side of the desk. His erection strained against his boxers and you reached your hand out to ghost across him through the material. You watched the way his stomach muscles tensed at the sensation and you did it again and again, teasing him just to see the way his body reacted to your touch. He twisted his hand into your hand then and pulled, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes were heavy with lust but you could see that familiar warning look in them too.

"Don't tease me, sweetheart." He warned, punctuating his words by tightening his grip on your hair ever so slightly. You groaned at the feeling, loving the slight pain that shot through you with it.

"I'm sorry Sir." You grinned finally moving to pull down his boxers once he released his grip on your hair. Once you got them to his ankles he kicked them off in the direction his pants had landed in and returned his hand to its position on the back of your head. He didn't try to move your head to force you closer, didn't abuse his power in the situation, instead, he just let his fingers tangle into your hair offering a reassuring touch. It was yet another reminder of the power he held in this situation. If he decided he wanted to, he could take control at any moment. You wouldn't admit it but the idea of it excited you.

You pressed your lips against his stomach starting your slow descent downwards. You kissed all across his stomach until you eventually reached his hips. You moved across then finally focusing your attention on his cock. You wrapped your hands around the base and ran your tongue across the underside, listening to the hiss he let out at the contact. You felt his fingers instinctively reflex against your skull, tightening his grip and the feeling made you hum against him. You took your time as you kissed your way up to the tip, occasionally poking your tongue out to pay attention to the areas that got more of a reaction out of Hotch.

You lifted your eyes to watch his face for a reaction as you finally wrapped your lips around him, taking the head into your mouth. His eyes snapped shut and you smirked when you heard the broken gasp that fell from his mouth when you took more of him into your mouth. You loved knowing that it was you that made him feel this good. That you were the only one who could break down his walls and show his vulnerability like this.

You let Hotch guide you, letting the pace as the hand on the back of your head finally moved gently urging your forward. You pushed forward taking inch by inch until he suddenly released his grip and moved his hand to cup your cheek instead when he pushed too hard making you gag around him. You took a moment to ground yourself before leaning your head into his hand reassuring him that you were fine, he hadn't hurt you. You took a deep breath through your nose, blinking away the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes and push forward again, finally taking his full length into your mouth.

"Oh, fucking hell." He groaned as he felt himself hit the back of your throat. His head tipped back as his free hand closed around the edge of the desk, his grip of tight his knuckles turned white. "You feel so good, you're taking it so well for me. Just relax sweetheart, that's it."

Hearing the praise from Hotch made you smile against his skin as you finally start to bob your head, going slowly at first to adjust to the feeling before you found a rhyme that worked for both of you. Blunt nails scratched across your scalp as you started to suck around him and Hotch lost himself in the pleasure. With how serious and quiet he was at work you would never have expected that he could be this vocal in bed but you could hear his harsh breaths and occasional moans above you. You started to run your tongue across the head on every upward movement and you could feel the effect it was having on him as he drew closer to the edge.

"Y/N I'm gonna- I'm getting close." He warned but his words came out breathy as he let out a harsh groan of your name. He tugged your hair trying to pull you back a little as a warning instead.

You nodded your head, or at least as best you could in your current position to let him know you'd heard him but instead of pulling away, you picked up your pace, moving your head faster as you squeezed his thigh to encourage him to let go. Hotch wouldn't always finish in your mouth when you went down on him but this last case kept you apart for too long and you needed him close in every way he could get him. It only took another few bobs of your head and well-timed licks of your tongue for Hotch to cum as you swallowed around him. He moaned your name as you pulled off of him and nuzzled back into his hand.

" That was so fucking hot." Hotch practically growled once he caught his breath again and pulled you up from your knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist and let his hands wander over your ass as he kissed you deeply. He could taste himself on your lips as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip and he groaned out at the taste. He stayed like that for a moment, kissing you while he groped at any inch of skin he could get his hands on. "I think you deserve a reward for taking that so well, don't you?"

"Yes, please yes." You gasped against his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. Feeling him fall apart under your mouth had left you wanting him even more than when you first walked into his office. You could feel your heart speed up, hammering against your ribs at the idea of what Hotch was going to do to you.

"What do you want? Use your words and tell me." He asked leaning in close to nip at your ear lob as he spoke. For a moment your mouth couldn't keep up with your thoughts as you tried to tell Hotch what you wanted but all that came out were gasps and broken syllables.

"Fuck me. Please Sir I need you. Need you inside me." You whined, practically begging as you finally got the words out. You reached out then and started to push his jacket off his shoulders, needing as little barriers between you as you could get in his office. You got the jacket off and discarded it behind the desk, not caring where it landed. Hotch stood up then, flipping you both around so it was now you with your lower back pressed against the desk.

"Get on the desk, spread your legs for me." He said standing back to watch as you hopped up onto the desk and spreading your legs apart wide enough for him to step between them, making your skirt ride further up your thighs. He stepped between them and started down at your legs as he ran his hands up the bare skin until he reached the edge of your skirt. He pressed forward letting his fingers dip underneath just enough to skim over your thighs before he turned his attention to your shirt instead.

He reached for the first button and started to pop them open one by one until he got frustrated at how long it was taking and instead just pulled it open enough to palm at your breasts. You moaned out at that and the sound only encouraged Hotch to drop his head to kiss across the exposed skin over the cups of your bra while his fingers worked at your nipples until they hardened under his touch. The feeling coursed through your body settling between your legs as your hips bucked up at the sensation but Hotch dropped a hand down to pin your thigh in place against the desk, stopping you from moving again.

"Please, please I need you to touch me." You whispered in his ear, keeping your voice soft with that needy tone you knew he could never resist. You needed him to relieve some of the pressure building between your legs before actually lost your mind. Finally, he pushed your skirt up the rest of the way and hitched it over your hips, trailing his fingers across the front of your black, lace panties.

"So wet." He murmured against your chest, the words vibrating against your skin. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes, yes it's all for you." You nodded starting to ramble as you grasped at his wrist to keep his hand where you wanted it. He pressed his fingers in closer, toying with your clit, teasing you through your panties before he took his hands away just as you were finally getting what you wanted. You bucked your hips against the empty air and cried out in frustration.

Hearing the disappointed noise you made as he pulled away was enough for him to finally give in to your request. He moved his hands back to your hips and hooked his fingers into either side of your panties and you lifted your hips to help him pull them down your legs. They were added to the growing pile of clothes on his office floor and he stepped back in between your legs. He took his cock in his hands and stroked himself a couple of times before lining up with your entrance as you wrapped your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. He moved his hips forward, finally pushing inside of you. His first thrust was slow as he let you tell him once you were ready.

"Aaron." You whimpered at the feeling of him finally being inside of you. You wouldn't lie, it was always better after you had been apart for a while and that was certainly true now. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, panting against his lips as your body adjusted to his size. You nodded then, the signal he needed to move.

"Say my name again." He whispered into your ear his voice heavy with lust at the sound of his name on your lips. He pulled his hips back, almost pulling out all the way before he thrust back into you again, reaching deeper this time.

"Aaron please." You moaned out louder this time. While Hotch had a thing for you calling him by his official titles he loved hearing you call him by his first name equally as much. If not even more. It was a rarer occurrence that you let it slip out, saving it only for your most intimate moments together. You loved seeing his whole attitude changed once you broke out his first name.

Once he was sure you were ready he started to speed up his thrusts, making you drag your hands across his back your nails scratching at his shirt. He pushed your thighs further apart, holding you open wider for him. You let him move your body how he wanted, loving how hot it felt to be fully exposed for him. Fully at his mercy. He changed his angle once he adjusted your thighs and it allowed his thrusts to reach deeper.

Every nerve in your body lit up at the sensation and the pleasure took control of your body, making you clench around him. Hotch gasped out at the feeling and he started pressing kisses against your shoulder to muffle his noises as he kept adjusting his angle with each thrust, searching until finally-

"There! Right there." You all but screamed out as Hotch found what he was looking for and hit your g-spot. You dropped your head to his shoulder moaning with each thrust until Hotch caught your mouth in a kiss, silencing you.

"Careful sweetheart, we wouldn't want the rest of the team to hear you out in the bullpen now would we?" He teased breathing the words out against your ear. It was an empty threat and you knew it. Everyone else had left for the night before you ever walked into Hotch's office but still the idea of being caught, of having Hotch fuck you somewhere you knew you could be caught excited you. It was exactly what you had been wanting but was afraid Hotch wouldn't agree to with the fear of being caught.

"Of if we get caught I'm blaming you." You tried to laugh at your half attempt at a threat but it came out breathless as Hotch thrust into you again and the movement forced another moan from you.

"I think we both know who's idea this really was, we both know you love the idea of being a whore in the office where everyone can hear," Hotch growled out moving his mouth to nip at your jaw.

You could feel yourself being driven crazy at his words, you loved it when Hotch let himself out and lost control of his words, occasionally whispering filth into your ear. His pace started to quicken as you both drew closer to your orgasms. Your head tipped backwards, your limbs wrapped around Hotch's body the only thing keeping you upright as gasps and moans started to fall from your lips more frequently and you closed your eyes fully basking in the feeling. Hotch leaned over you, slowly lowering you down until your back met the hardwood of his desk. You moved your hands from around his shoulders to find something, anything to grip onto on his desk.

Hotch straightened up and slid his hands across your stomach until they came up to rest on your breasts. This time he pulled down the cups of your bra to get access to them, finally pressing skin against skin. He leaned in again and dropped his mouth to take a nipple into his mouth, lapping his tongue across the surface before he sucked hard. He cupped your other breast in his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers feeling the way your chest rose and fell rapidly against him. You buried your fingers into his hair and moaned out your approval, glancing down to see the look of concentration on his face as his tongue switched to drawing tight circles around you.

You couldn't take much more with him driving your body higher like this. Everything felt like it was both too much and not enough all at once as you reached out blindly trying to touch any part of his you could. Eventually, you settled on digging your nails into his shoulder blades. You opened your mouth to warn him that at this rate you wouldn't last much longer but all that came out was a broken cry of his name. It seemed that it was still enough for him to get the message as he brought his free hand down between your bodies and started to rub circles around your clit.

That was all it took for you to cum, your whole body tensed as your hips bucked off the desk and you let out a loud moan. Hotch kissed you roughly, nipping at your lips as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, swallowing your whimpers of his name and curses. Once you regained some of your composure you ran a hand down his back, whispering words of encouragement as he chased his own release.

It didn't take much longer for him to follow you over the edge, cumming inside of you as he groaned out your name. He reached a hand out a hand to brace himself against the desk so he didn't crush you with his weight slumping forward on top of you. You stayed like that for a moment, Hotch pressing kisses against your neck as your both struggled to catch your breath again. Eventually, he moved backwards, pulling out and you whined at the loss. He stood up properly and held a hand out to you and helped you sit back up on the desk once you took it.

"Was that close to what you had been imagining all week?" Hotch teased pulling you in for a soft kiss, a completely different feeling to the other kisses you shared so far. "Or should I say all month because I know you've been wanting me to fuck you in here for ages."

"Oh so much better." You grinned, chuckling against his lips. "Please tell me we can do this again."

"Anything for you. Come on, get cleaned up and we'll head home, maybe if you're good we can pick this up back in the bedroom." He said nosing at your jaw as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

Taglist: @marauder-level-chaos

#criminal minds fics #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds family #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut

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blueathens · 3 years

Text

The Girl Who Wears A Mask

ACT 1, SCENE 7

𝖲𝗈𝗇𝗀: 𝖠𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖭𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖰𝗎𝗈𝗍𝖾: "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌?"

𝖳𝖶: 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁, 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖠𝖻𝗎𝗌𝖾 & 𝖲𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 & 𝖶𝖺𝗋 & 𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌

Masterlist//Dusk Till Dawn Masterlist//Agape Masterlist

THIRD POV

"How much sleep have you been having?"

Sleep: A condition of body and mind that typically recurs for several hours every night, in which the nervous system is relatively inactive, the eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended.

Sleep, one of the most important things that the human body needs as it shuts down everything for your body to rest, to recharge from everything, to give you more energy to do things.

Not getting much sleep could lower your moods but it can also cause more life-threatening causes such as diabetes, obesity, and coronary heart disease. And one third of us suffers from poor sleep due from stress, computers and taking work home which can cause a lot of damage to the human body.

It is said that humans need about 8 hours of sleep to function properly, however some need more or less and a way to figure out if you're getting a lack of sleep is if you wake up and still be tired and longing for a nap.

There are cases where stress and other factors are not the only cause, health conditions such as sleep apnoea could be the cause, but usually its bad sleeping patterns.

If your body doesn't get enough sleep you will experience short tempers and lack of focus. An occasional night without sleep makes you feel tired and irritable the next day, it will also not cause any harm to your health. However, after several sleepless nights, the mental effects become serious. Your brain will fog up, making it difficult to concentrate and make decisions. Your mood will decrease, and you may fall asleep during the day. Injuries could become more frequent causing not just you but others harm too.

She's been sleeping many sleepless nights.

"Enough."

"Insomnia...we're afraid."

Insomnia: Habitual sleeplessness; inability to sleep. No matter how much you desire dreamland, it refuses your entry.

It's nights where you toss and turn, hoping for the sleep train to pick you up to take you to dreamland, but it never does, it drives straight pass you because you don't have a ticket to go. You left with a wild mind, forcing you to stay awake with countless of thoughts. You think about everything in your life, your friends, your family, your work, your dreams, your hopes, your achievements, the past, the present, the future, your pets, your problems, your feelings, your worries. You think and remember everything, even the things you don't want to remember. Your mind keeps you up with anything it can, and it will even bring in the memories you stashed away to gather up dust.

It's scary what your mind is capable of.

She can't sleep, her mind is constantly keeping her up, she tosses, and she turns, but she never sleeps, if she does it's not much.

"I can suggest herbal remedies such as lavender or pills-"

"No pills."

"I've read some things from previous records of yours and-"

"No pills."

"Try lavender."

"How long have these nightmares been happening."

Nightmares: A frightening or unpleasant dream.

She wakes up covered in sweat, screaming for help, and after it all she can't go back to sleep as she always sees the memories, her life, every time she closes her eyes. It keeps her up most nights, and she wished it didn't. It wasn't the monsters hiding in the dark that scared her anymore, it was the monsters that hid in her mind, playing every nerve like chord string, tickling her heart and heating her body up with nothing but fire.

"What nightmares?"

John Lennon once said: 'I believe in everything until it's disapproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?'

Who's to say nightmares aren't as real as our dreams? She knew her nightmares were real, very real indeed, she knew they were real as she lived them.

"Night terrors...we're afraid."

Nightmares is something that usually seen in children if adults have them not many of them talk about it, embarrassed that they can't stop the threatening scenes replaying like a broken record in your mind. You wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, heart pounding, mind racing, your flailing your arms about trying to fight the monsters that causing you this fear, the fear that makes you stay awake.

"I don't get nightmares...that's for children."

"Your Captain says otherwise...both of them."

"I don't work with one of them anymore."

"Your name is still on the list for emergencies."

"Yeah, key word, 'emergencies.'"

"Night terrors...we're afraid...What do you see?"

She sees memories of her life, memories she wanted to forget. She hears the rapid gunfire. She smells the dead corpses, and she remembers the war-cry faces on them. She sees and smells smoke, she feels the hits, the pain, the cries, the death, the feeling of nothing. Her mind shows it all and it feels so really, it's like she's living her life all over again...it's all so real. The muddy shoes, the baseball bat, the blood, she knows it all too. The sound of engines roaring, sirens blasting, crowds cheering, parents shouting, the tears, the agony, the doctors faces of sympathy. It was all there...it was all there like she was experiencing it all again.

"I don't get nightmares."

"PTSD."

PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

She was prepared to serve, to be injured, to die...but if someone told her what she was going to live with she would have chosen death than live with all the memories that haunts her.

It wasn't just from the serving though, it was the struggles of her life, constantly hunting her, playing itself on report like a broken record, screeching as it goes round and round...it was never going to end.

"It's never going to leave you."

It's all comes back in flashes.

"You know that, yes?"

Your living it every single moment of your life.

"Hmm-mmm."

"Your life has never been easy and it's okay to ask for help."

Everyone calls for help, but they all go silent and deaf when they scream for them, begging them to save them...but they rarely get to them in time before the chains pull them under the waves, causing every droplet of water into their lungs.

"I'm fine."

How much longer can you wear a mask before it shatters and everyone sees the truth?

"But-"

"I'm fine."

PTSD is not a chosen situation, or an illness, or a temporary condition nor is it 100% curable. PTSD does not mean you're crazy, dangerous, weak, failures, bad people.

"I'm afraid you're PTSD is complex."

C-PTSD: Occurs from traumas that build layers upon layers.

"You don't show it though...you hide it within yourself and-"

Mask are worn to hide the sadness that lurks inside you.

"Just stop."

They beg and beg, but no one listens.

"Isn't help what you wanted?"

No one understand how hard it is for them to tell them everything that goes inside their head.

"Not really, got forced into this like always."

"You need to talk to someone."

Why don't they understand?

"I'm fine."

"We're here to help, why won't you talk to us?"

"I'm fine."

Another crack decorated the mask.

"Depression."

Images of a small 10-year-old visiting different therapist and doctors, telling the parents that their child has depression, they questioned it, wondering why such a happy girl had such a terrible thing, but the girl just sat in silence allowing the voices to be background noises as she made images with the marks in the ceilings.

"Since you was 10, correct?"

Life is a beautiful tragedy.

"Suicide attempts-"

Don't bring up the history...it still haunts her.

"Stop."

Flashes of different times death nearly fell upon the girl, even if it wasn't suicide, she was always close to dying and every time she wished it would just take her away. Then maybe, just maybe she'll find peace.

"Diagnosed with a form of PTSD by the age of 22, correct?"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"And here you are diagnosing me with a whole other list."

"There could be more, but you won't talk to us."

"I thought it was obvious why."

"We're here to help! Let us help you."

"I'm fine."

"Kasey what you suffered the other night was not nothing, it was a panic attack, a serious panic attack." Hen told her softly. "Have you spoken to your therapists?"

"They just make me sound sick."

"You're not sick." Hen quickly defended. "You're a girl who's been hit by life so many times."

"I just want my mind to rest."

"I know, honey." She looked at the slightly darken marks under her eyes. "I can't tell if those are the bruises or sleeping bags."

"I don't even know anymore."

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Coffee."

Hen sighed, shaking her head as she tapped Kasey budged with hers as she sat in front of her in the café.

"I told you no more coffee at the moment, it's not good for your health, especially if you're not sleeping."

"I never said I'm not sleeping."

"You choosing to have coffee states otherwise."

"It's called growing up."

"Growing up and Kasey Strand do not work well together." Hen chuckled lightly but Kasey could only respond with a fake smile, nodding slightly to what she said.

Life is complicated sometimes you can have a good night rest, other's you may not. Sometimes you feel completely fine like you can climb a mountain or run a marathon. Whilst on other days all you want to do is fall into a mountain of pillows and blankets to hide from the rest if the world.

And for some people they have more bad days than good.

And Kasey is and always has been one of those people. The people who can put on a mask to tell everyone their fine when in reality their not, they're really drowning, gasping for air, but the water just fills their lungs every time they scream for help. It's like a weight of chains dragging them down, causing them to go further and further into the great unknown. And they don't even fear the creatures that lurks in it, what they fear is how quickly they're losing air, how viciously their body is tingling, how numb their getting, how there is no way to escape.

"Are you sure you're okay Kas?"

Images of the memories that haunts her flickered through her mind.

Muddy shoes, princess, baseball bat, guns, death, bodies, drugs, alcohol, vehicles, hospital, shouting, dancing, punching, vases breaking...everything just came back once again.

"I'm fine."

Hen examined her, eyes racking up and down Kasey, a slight frown on her face as she took a sip of her drink. She noticed Kasey's eyes focused on something else behind her and Hen knew there was a blank wall behind her, meaning Kasey daydreamed out.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Hen eyed her Pain au Chocolat in front of Kasey with a raised brow, usually food would be desmolase with Kasey, Kasey snapped out of her thought with a shake of her head before looking back at Hen.

"Hmmm?"

"Your food." Hen nodded to her the food that hasn't be touched yet. "Are you not eating it?" She watched how Kasey eyes looked down at the plate, completely forgetting that it was there.

"Oh." She broke a piece of, it wasn't warm anymore but Kasey didn't mind. "I forget I ordered this." She placed a piece in her mouth before her eyes went back to the wall behind Hen.

"You're moving back into your place tonight?"

"Yeah." Kasey placed another bit into her mouth. "I feel bad for just crashing at Eddie's."

Hen hummed.

"You know he never cares, he loves having you there and so does Christopher."

"They might, but I'm Eddie's friend not family, those two deserve to have moments together as father and son."

"Always thinking about others before yourself."

Kasey examined the café once again, there was a couple by the window, a few students scattered here and there, two cops just walked in causing the bell to ring, Kasey blinked at hearing that sound as he eyes zoomed on it before moving to look at something else. A few elders were around, laughing at something their friends who sat with them said...the train just went past, the sound of rumbling and chugging was heard as it passed the café. And then there was three waiting staff and one cashier...but the waiting stuff took turns. And finally there was her and Hen having breakfast together, something they tried as much as possible, but today Kasey wasn't with it as her mask was slowly breaking.

"Why did my therapist talk to you all?" Kasey asked.

"I don't think they should have...but you're record was practically empty even though you've been to many before."

"Because I don't talk...it doesn't help me...it makes...it makes it worse." Kasey admitted quietly, eyes looking at her the table as her finger ran up and down it, her leg bounced up and down because this was the first time she sort of admitted that there was something go on. Hen leaned in to hear her more closely. "It's diagnose after diagnose...it hurting my head to much...it makes me sound sick."

"You're not sick." Hen reminded her.

"They want me to go on pills...I can't do that though."

Hen who nodded softly, thinking it was because of what happened to TK, reached her hand forward to hold Kasey's moving one, holding it still and making Kasey's eyes snapped to Hens.

"You might not want to talk right now...but we, the team and Athena are always here to listen to you, okay? You recently went through something traumatising and we just want you to heal."

But that's the thing it wasn't just because of Jordon and the many statements she had to fill for the cops causing her to remember everything more clearer, it wasn't because she has to go back to the apartment that now hold bad memories...it was just everything that happened in her life is finally catching up to her and Kasey can't process it all, she isn't strong enough to swim up to the surface to breathe...to get the fresh air her lungs desired.

"And if you need a break or-"

"Hen, I'm fine."

"So how's Maddie settling into her new place?" Kasey questioned Buck as she sponged down one of the vehicles outside

"Good...I think." Buck furrowed his eyebrows before looking up from the hose to his best friend. "Hey, thanks for coming to help yesterday."

"Course." A few moments later Kasey watched Buck walk off towards Taylor Kelly who just turned up with her camera men, watching Bobby walk off. Kasey sighed as she stared at camera from over the top of the car, wishing it wasn't there. Kasey dropped the sponge with another sigh before making her way towards Buck and she noticed how the grins on Taylor and cameraman became bigger at the sight of her...one of the firefighters who was also at the scene of the helicopter crash.

"Hey." Kasey waved and the cameraman responded with his own wave and a smirk as the camera moved up and down her. Eddie now made his way towards them from the gym and Kasey wanted to go now, she only came to tell Buck that he needed to finish his task with her, but of course he got distracted.

"Any side effects of the crash?" Eddie asked as he made his way to them, standing next to Kasey with his arms crossed, giving a slight glare at the cameraman before looking back at Taylor.

"I'm great." Taylor beamed and it screamed news reporter to Kasey so much, the constant smiles made her feel sick sort of, and Kasey knew she wanted out as quickly as possible, she faked a smile and slight nod when the camera pointed at her again. "Thanks to you all which is why I'm here. You guys were so amazing. I want to do a story on the firehouse and the heroes that work here."

Chimney and Hen now was listening to what Taylor was saying, slowing stopping their tasks at hand.

Eddie noticed Kasey's slight discomfort as the camera stayed on her, he stepped forwards slightly to cover a bit of view of her causing the camera to move back to Buck.

"Oh," Kasey shifted her weight to her other foot as her. "You really don't have to that...we're not that interesting."

"No you're not."

"Yeah, but you do traffic." Chimney pointed out.

"I'm not quite ready to go back in the sky, so I thought I'd try my hand at telling a story from the ground."

Hen jumped out of the ambulance, one hand still holding the window of the door as she gave a fake grin. "And use your newfound fame to put your face in front of the camera."

"That, too." Nodded Taylor.

"Smart girl."

"I can't wait to interview all of you. I want to know why you chose this job, the crazy things you've seen, what it's like to face death. I mean Howie, you almost died, right?" She turned to Chimney.

"Actually, nobody calls me that." He pointed his finger up as the camera faced him. "It's Chimney."

"I bet there's a story there."

"Hmm."

"Not one you can tell on TV." Hen said causing Taylor to chuckle softly.

"And Miss fan-favourite nearly died multiple times as well, epically recently right?" Taylor turned to face Kasey and Kasey rolled her shoulders back to realise some tension in them.

"It's part of the job." Kasey told her.

"Not with the one that happened about a month ago, what happened? What did the doctors say and-"

Eddie placed his hands on Kasey's shoulder guiding her away from the red head who was firing questions at her with the camera pointed at her. He took her all the way upstairs, far away from the camera and Taylor as possible.

"New couple alert?" Taylor smirked, raising her brows at the new-found gossip.

"Kasey and Eddie?" Chimney asked with a laugh. "They're just friends."

Buck and Hen gave each other a look.

Eddie was now in his uniform as he sat next to Kasey, both eating brownies and they both mentally groaned when they say Taylor and the cameraman making they were up the stairs.

"Remember, you don't have to answer anything you don't want." Eddie whispered in Kasey's ear as they both watched them from the sofa they were sitting on.

"Tell us about all this." Taylor asked looking at the food that was dotted round the kitchen and dining table.

"Oh. This table is all about the love." Chimney stated.

"Amen." Kasey cheered quickly, stuffing another brownie in her mouth.

"And the carbs." Chimney repeated, nodding slightly to what Buck just said as he stuffed a cupcake into his mouth.

Kasey didn't know how long it took Taylor to get to her, she knows she's talked to the other firefighters and tried to talk to Bobby, and now Kasey was training to find her escape route when she noticed Taylor heading towards her like a women on a mission.

"Everyone absolutely adores you Kasey."

Kasey knew this already due to the news that goes round and always wanting to question her. She also knows this by the awkward encounters she have when people notice her out and about, thanking her for all her service and everything, whilst Kasey just stood there, hands swinging in front of her as she gave them an awkward smile. She wasn't usually awkward but if people come up to you when you're not on shift it's kind of weird...she's not a celebrity or anything so why do they want to remember who she is? All she is doing is her job.

"I guess." Kasey shrugged, eyes cautiously looking at the camera, the camera man, Taylor then the room she was in...she was near the kitchen, and she noticed Bobby standing in the kitchen watching her carefully.

"You guess?" Taylor laughed.

"All I'm doing is my job." Kasey felt uncomfortable at the sight of Taylor's smiling face.

"On one of your calls you saved a-"

"KASEY!" A voice that belonged to Eddie Diaz yelled from downstairs. "I THOUGHT YOU WAS ROLLING THE FIREHORSE BACK UP! I NEARLY TRIPPED OVER IT!"

Kasey was puzzled for a moment, she knew she already put that away, so she wasn't sure what Eddie was talking about, until it hit her, he was helping her to get away from the camera.

"Oh..." Kasey gave an apologetic smile. "A firefighters job is never over." She swung her arm in front of her, it heading towards her other arm but not touching it, like in the of gesture of 'Oh-dear-wish-I-could-stay.'

"Captain Nash." Taylor travelled towards the kitchen whilst Kasey jogged down the stairs.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." She threw her arms over Eddie, embracing him in a tight hug, he leaned back slightly causing the girl to step of her tiptoes to follow his movement, arms wrapped round her waist as he chuckled lightly.

"Constantly saving lives." Eddie squeezed slightly, Kasey not caring one bit if any of her bruises hurt her, they were going down more by the day and soon she be completely back to normal...physically.

She stepped back slightly, and Eddie's hands moved from her back to her hips, but they stayed there when he realised how close their faces were. His eyes flickered for a second down to her lips but before either one could even think what was happening the bell rang, causing them to step away from each other and clear their throats.

"Uh, thanks." Kasey nodded before walking towards the fire engine.

"Anytime." Eddie blushed, hand scratching the back of his neck as he watched her go for a second, before feeling Bobby pat him on the shoulder to tell him it's time to go.

"He's refusing help?" Kasey muttered standing next to Chimney. "This dude must be crazy or something if they don't want help to stop choking."

"Tell me about it." Chimney muttered back as they both walked together, following the rest of the team. Kasey rubbed her eyes causing her to flinch and hiss slightly in pain. "You alright?" He looked at her out the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, yeah...just kind of forgot about the bruises on my face."

Chimney looked more at her face, examining her injuries. "Should be gone soon, they look like their clearing up well."

"Joey Chestnut scarfed down 74 hot dogs in ten minutes at last year's Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest." Buck yelled over the crowds as he spoke to Eddie.

"Bet you could do that with those brownies earlier." Chimney chuckled lightly which Kasey shoved him in response with laughter of her own.

"They were good brownies...you should have tried some."

"Maybe later."

"Excuse me, sir, are you refusing care?" Bobby yelled to the man sitting at a table, crowd cheering him on in front of him.

He waved his hand, dismissing them, whilst a hissing noise came from somewhere under the cloth near Chimney and Kasey, they jumped back when the animal came out.

"Ah, geez!"

Chimney stumbled back into Bobby whilst Kasey stumbled into Eddie who caught her by her waist, keeping her stable so she didn't fall in front all these people.

"Whoa."

"Cute." Chimney muttered bitterly. "Is that thing yours?"

"I thought that was a dinosaur." Kasey sighed with slight relief, Eddie's hands still on her as they both stared at the Komodo Dragon. "Chim's right, it is cute."

"I think he was being sarcast-"

"That's Claude. He's the grand prize." The lady who was hosting this event said.

"All this for a lizard?" Kasey questioned just before the guy at the table threw up.

"Get 'em in, Get 'em in!" Bobby ordered as he and the team ran over to the man, pushing one another to go faster as they stepped on each other's heels. "Give us some room."

"Get this table and chairs out of here." Chimney waved his hand and Kasey was off doing what Chimney wanted.

"That means you guys, too." Bobby told Taylor and her cameraman. "Give us some room. Back up." He waved his hand (along with Eddie) motioning them to get as far as possible from them. "Prep the defib." The team, except Kasey, kneeled down to the choking man.

"Airways are sealing up." Hen informed the group.

"What's happening right now, Kasey?" Taylor interviewed Kasey as she was doing her task.

"Er, right now, I'm moving the table and chairs to give them room...something I think the two of you was ordered to do as well." She grinned cheekily at them before jogging away and back to her team, hurrying down on her knees to help in anyway.

"I need the BBM."

"What was this, like a pepper eating contest?" Taylor asked the host.

"No. Protein."

"His pulse thready." Hen removed the mask of his face as bugs jumped out of the guys mouth, chirping loudly to grab everyone's attention."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Locusts!" Hen waved the mask up and down removing any bugs that were in there.

Kasey stepped back, standing up as she waved her hands around to protect herself from any of the bugs like her other teammates were doing.

"No, they're actually crickets." The lady informed them.

"Is that meant to make this better?" Kasey cringed when she thought she felt one on her arm, hitting the area repetitively until she was convinced nothing was there, shivering slightly at the sight of them, making her think they were crawling all over her.

"We allowed anything that Claude would eat. We thought it might be fun."

"His pulse is weakening. He's I V-fib." Hen quietly muttered to Bobby. "He's coding."

Chimney hopped to the other side of the man, sitting back on his knees. "Starting compressions."

"Damn it, the blockage is too big. He's not getting any air. Let me try something."

"Come on buddy."

"Buck, give me the Magill."

"Come on."

Buck handed her the scissors crossed twisters combination to the medic, she opened his mouth with her covered hand as the other hand held the tool guiding it into the man's mouth to pick up the blockage at the back of his throat. She placed it in the napkin Bobby held out for her with disgust before she went back to placing the mask back onto the man's face, him gasping to get air back into his airways.

"He's back."

"I've got the sinus rhythm, pulse action rising. Let's get him up."

The second he sat up he started to reach; bugs continued to fly out of his mouth.

"Even Bear wouldn't eat this." Kasey voiced quietly with so much disgust in her tone as she stared at the scene in shock.

Eddie leaned forwards to the man with a serious face. "All this for a lizard, huh?"

"Hey! That's my line!"

"A monitor lizard and 500 bucks."

"Let me get in there!" Kasey yelled happily at the amount of money.

"NO!" The team yelled at her causing her to stop jumping up and down with clapping hands.

"And I just lost."

"Yes, you did! Yeah!" A women at the table said with a mouthful of insects before she spat out roaches.

"Oh fuck no." Kasey shook her head repeatedly at the new sight.

"Claude I guess you're staying with me." The host said to the lizard who just hissed in response which made the cameraman and Taylor jump back with a gasp. "I guess he likes you. He likes redheads."

"How about you start from the beginning?"

"The beginning of what?"

"The first thing you remember."

It was a sunny day in New York, she was playing with her brother happily, both of the age of 4, it wasn't the first memory she remembers, but it was the first memory to signify the start of her downfall. Kids around the age of 7, marched up to them, like they owned the park they were in. They're parents were sat on a bench in a conversation of their own, not knowing that these older kids were yelling at their very own children, telling them how they weren't allowed to play in the sandpit because it belonged to them. The 4-year-old girl stood up in defence for her brother when she saw the bottom of his lip wobble in fear due to the loud screams. She yelled at them just as loud, and the bigger kid of the group pushed her down into the sand, causing it to fly everywhere whilst the girl just glared up to him, kicking him just below his kneecap causing him to tumble down into his friends, the girl pulled her feet closer to her body, pulling her brother with her to make sure he didn't get hit by the kids who tumbled down. Her older brother sat behind him, hands firmly on her shoulders as he watched the scene. The kids burst into tears, and she yelled at them for being bullies, but everything ended when her parents came with furious faces and arms crossed.

They shouted at her all through the journey home, not listening to her side of the story. Not listening to how they yelled first, ordering them to get lost, how they gripped her brother's arm once, how they nearly made him cry, how they said only they could play in it as they 'owned it,' not listening to how they pushed her first and she didn't even know all the kids were going to fall over by a soft push. No, they never listened, her brother was crying through all the yelling, she was angry at her parents who were full of rage and disgust of her behaviour for making the other kids cry for apparently not letting them play on the sand pit and for making her brother cry because she caused them to yell at her.

She was grounded for two weeks after that, she couldn't remember what her punishment was, but she remembered she hated it because she didn't deserve it.

"You was in the right, you know?"

"Nah, I wasn't, I just made it into a bigger thing."

"You really think that?"

"I know...I know because it's all I've ever done."

"Maybe we could do a time skip to your teen years...that's where the biggest gap has-"

Silence.

"Can you hear me?"

Silence.

"Maybe you just want to continue from the beginning if it's easier, build up to those years, and let me-"

Door slammed.

Long strides, 20 long strides it took to get to the ladies toilets, locking the first empty cubicle she found and sliding down the closed door. Harsh breathing as she gripped tightly onto the sleeves of her hoodie. Hands shaking once again as raked them through her sweating hair.

Breath in...hold....breath out...

But her laboured breath continued and she hit her head against the cubicle door, wanting to be somewhere else that wasn't in her mind. Maybe some therapist were right, she needed a happy place...but how could you find one when your entire life was full of darkness?

So the girl just sat there until the storm in her head passed, then she would walk out with a mask upon her face like nothing happened.

But the storm was no where near finished when the phone rang, and she knew she was going to have to wear a much stronger mask.

But the question was, how much longer can she wear this broken mask before it shatters completely and everyone finds out the truth?

And she feared that it was going to be very soon as she doesn't think she can keep herself together for much longer.

"LAFD. Clear path." Bobby told the people in front of them as he and the fire-crew travelled down to the scene, sunglasses on their faces, and followed closely behind was Taylor and her cameraman.

"Looks like extreme hyponatremia." Buck stated as he looked at the bodybuilder who was clenching his muscles tightly, and unable to move.

"How do you know that?" Kasey questioned, placing her gloves on.

"He's got a charley horse." Hen said.

"He is the charley horse." Chimney added.

"What does that even mean." Kasey mumbled in confusion.

"What's your name?" Bobby asked the man.

"Charlie."

"Okay, Charlie, when was the last time you had any fluids?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Flushed yourself out for the competition today?" Chimney asked which Charlie nodded at.

"And for the weigh-ins, to make the veins pop."

"Well, you're defiantly popping."

"All right, Charlie your potassium and your sodium have bottomed out and that's why you're seizing up." Bobby bent down slightly to examine the position he's in and Hen wrapped a blood pressure wrap round his arm. "Now, before we start replenishing your electrolytes, you got to answer me honestly: are you dosing?" He asked looking into Charlie's eyes.

"N-no steroids, if that's what you mean. I'm total clean."

"You sure buddy?" Kasey asked as she looked at the way his body was, especially his muscles. And it wasn't just Kasey who had this thought as the rest of the team including Taylor and the cameraman looked at one another in disbelief. When Kasey turned to look to her side, she immediately noticed the camera and the man holding it awfully close to her, the man smirking as his eyes looked at her and the camera pointing at her and back to the bodybuilder.

"Okay, you two need to back off." Bobby said to the camera. "Get the camera out of here, please."

Eddie sighs.

"Cap needs room to work." Eddie told them, ushering them away.

"I'm working too." Taylor said defensively.

"You can work further back, especially you Mr Cameraman."

"Charlie, I just need you to know that of you're not being straight with me, and we start giving you saline and you have been dosing your kidney could start to fail, okay? And that be on you." Bobby told him.

"I'm on steroids."

"Who would've guessed." Kasey exclaimed in fake surprise.

"Okay, that's better. Are you taking anything else?"

"I took a diuretic last night to shed some water weight."

"That explains his low blood pressure. 70/40." Hen pointed out.

"All right, let's get him transported." The team went to different sides of the man. "On three, everybody. Ready? One, two, three." His head was in red brackets as they lowered him onto stretcher that was wrapped around him with a yellow strap.

"Am I-am I gonna be okay?"

"We're gonna get you through the day."

"You'd think he'd earn a trophy for holding the pose so long." Chimney smiled elbowing Kasey.

"Right?" Hen agreed, smiling in Kasey direction but she never responded, instead her eyes stayed on the ground. "Kasey?"

She suddenly look up and looked at them through her sunglasses. "Right." She smiled slightly before heading towards the fire engine.

They sat in the red truck without Bobby, Kasey was giggling like a small schoolgirl, Eddie was scrunching his face and Buck was looking out the window.

"Man. Allergies are going crazy today." Eddie sniffled.

"I didn't know you had argies." Kasey giggled.

"It's allergies." Chimney corrected, looking at Kasey weird of mispronouncing a word he knew she could say.

"That's what I said, silly." She giggled. "I feel so good today."

"The index wasn't elevated this morning." Buck told Eddie and Kasey.

Kasey sneezed. "Huh? Maybe I got argies too."

"Allergies."

"Do you think it's a new kind?" Buck asked.

"New kind of what?" Eddie shook his head.

"Of pollen."

"Is it poisonous." Kasey hurried to cover her mouth and nose with her hand and the two boys copied her.

"A new kind of pollen?" Chimney asked in disbelief and the three of them nodded their heads, still covering the bottom half of their face. "Poisonous pollen?" They nodded again.

"You're not feeling this, Chim?" Eddie asked removing his hand which the other two copied.

"No, I do not."

"I can see the pollen." Buck said looking up. "I can hear it."

"This is ridiculous. She's the one who cheated." A lady yelled at Athena handcuffed her. "She and her demon seed. That little girl is 11 if she's a day...I want to see the birth certificate."

The 118 entered through the glass doors one by one and when Kasey went to go through it, her face was meet with something hard causing her to stumble back with slight confusion.

"Huh? I thought a door was there." She scratched the top of her head, looking round the area. "Where did the door go?" Eddie walked back out, grabbing her hand to guide her through the door he just walked though. "There's the door!" She looked around, tugging at Eddie's arm excitedly. "Oh my god, it's a party!"

Chimney turned around to face her with pure confusion before heading towards Athena.

Kasey, Eddie, and Buck stayed by the door, looking around with their mouth apart, smiles tugging at them as they opened.

"Hey! Strand! Diaz! Buckley! Let's go!" Chimney called as he kneeled in front of the victim with a high heel going through her cheek.

"Did these beauty queens shrink, or are we suddenly giants?" Buck asked slowly.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum." Kasey said in a deep voice, stomping her feet as she stayed in the same spot. The boys leaned into her as they laughed at her imitation, but they suddenly stopped when the children turned to face them causing them to gasp and step back.

"Can I get my shoe back?" The women yelled as she passed the trio.

"Can someone please bring me the rest of my gear?" Chimney yelled in desperation. Athena turned to look at him before facing to look at Kasey, Eddie, and Buck who was just in pure shock at the children dressed as princesses.

"I think he means you, guys." They slowly looked up at Athena.

"She's a giant too?" Kasey muttered out through the corner of her lip.

"Hey, Athena." Buck greeted. "They're, like, the tiniest ladies I've ever seen." He looked down at them before back at Athena, pinching his fingers together and spoke in a high pitch voice to say: "Teeny-tiny. Just..."

"Excuse me?"

"So tiny." He whispered.

"Henrietta." Athena called at the firefighting-medic who was staring at herself in the mirror, looking round widely at who called her name.

"Thena." She waves her hand and as she gets closer she sniffs the air. "Oh, 'Thena, you smell like love."

"Chimney? Need you over here." Athena called as she looked at Hen in alertness. "727-l-30, requesting immediate R.A. backup." Athena spoke into her radio, watching how Hen sucked in the air through her nose. "At Beverly Wilton Hotel, Pacific Ballroom."

"Where the hell is my lido..." Chimney paused as he saw the state his team was in.

"We got a problem here." Athena told him. "You guys be tripping."

"What? Guys, look at me. Do you know where you are?"

"We're everywhere, man." Eddie told him as he appeared through the balloons. Kasey turned around and Eddie blinked in surprise. "Wow...you're pretty."

Kasey giggled.

"They're on drugs." Athena barked at Chimney.

"You're very pretty too." Kasey batted her eyelashes at Eddie.

Hen laughed in gasp as she hugged Chimney, him patting her back with a groan. "Oh. Oh, my God, it's the brownies."

"Brownies?"

"We got a new batch today."

"Did you know you're eyes were green?" Eddie said to Kasey as he attempted to lean against the wall to look cool.

"They are?" She asked with such excitement, hands covering her eyes as if she be able to see it.

Eddie let out a soft whine. "I can't see your eyes now."

"We've been getting a lot of stuff lately, especially since the earthquake." Chimney continued to pat Hen's back.

"You guys eat that stuff?" Athena asked in disbelief. "We just throw that stuff right in the trash."

"We're firefighter. Everybody loves us."

"Oh..." Athena couldn't believe his comment.

"So...you come here often stuff-hot?" Kasey titled her head.

"I think I live here?" Eddie questioned, eyes looking around.

"Hey, look at me." Kasey whined and when he looked back at her she cheered happily.

"What's going on?" Eddie cried as the handcuffs tightened round his wrist. "I don't like this."

"Ooh, you made him cry." Buck pointed out.

"Believe it or not, this isn't the first time I've been in handcuffs." Kasey said innocently looking down at her feet as she pointed them in and out repeatedly. Athena looked at her along with the other first responders who stood behind her with questioning looks. "Don't know why you're judging I heard about-"

"All right!" Athena said loudly interrupting the blabbering girl. "Just breathe, okay? You're gonna be okay."

"Did you make my man cry?" Kasey furrowed her brows as she looked at Eddie before looking angrily at the man behind him.

Eddie breathed out deeply.

"Somebody dosed you with a hallucinogen." Athena told them, ignoring what Kasey said as she knows she just drugged up. "We don't want you to hurt yourself or anyone else."

"You've already hurt my man." Kasey huffed.

"Yeah, my girl better not be hurt." Eddie glared out at Athena.

"Kasey? Are you hurt?"

Silence.

"Kasey?"

Silence.

"Eddie's girl?" She tried and Kasey looked up with a big smile and Athena rolled her eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah." She giggled, and Eddie sighed with happiness.

"You're adorable." He grinned at her through some tears that were prickling his eyes.

"No, you're adorable."

"You're more adorable."

"No-"

"You both are adorable!" Athena interrupted the pair who frowned that she interrupted them.

"Thena you're head is beating like your heart." Hen told her, looking at her as if she was an angel.

"Is it?"

"Did everything kind of sparkle?" Eddie asked, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Uh, I'd say it was more glistening, like the whole world was covered in dew." Hen told him.

"I can't really remember anything I said." Giggled Kasey.

"Neither." Buck shook his head.

"You think this is why people go to Burning Man?" Eddie asked before sitting next to Kasey who was next to Buck.

"We seem them every day," Taylor began on the TV, "on the streets of Los Angeles, running into burning buildings, pulling people from wrecked cars and collapsing high-rises and even saving this reported from a helicopter that spun out of control."

"Where's Cap?" Eddie asked as he took a mouthful of popcorn.

Buck looked around.

"He's not watching with us?"

"No, said he had other things to do." Chimney told him, handing Kasey the popcorn bowl so everyone could reach for it.

"I think his words were he'd rather do anything other than this." Hen laughed a breathy laugh.

"They are the brave men and women of the Los Angeles Fire Department, and it was my own brush with death that inspired me to share their story so you can all see what it takes and what it means to be one of them."

𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 ◁ II ▷𝑁𝑒𝑥𝑡

(AGAPE SERIES)

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silkenstarlight · 3 years

Text

wild cherry sweet (part two)

Summary: Reader is distracted as she and Bucky prepare to embark on their mission at the GRC’s private gala. Bucky decides to help ease her tension.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ only, minors dni!); public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, kissing, brief mention of sugar daddy

Word count: 3.9k

Find part one here

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Author’s note: i didn’t plan a part two for this, but tbh bucky is not the type to let a woman pleasure him without even trying to reciprocate on her

Do not repost! Likes and reblogs are welcome and encouraged :))

“Glasses? Really?”

You pressed your lips together tightly, scrutinizing Bucky’s lackadaisical efforts at putting together a disguise: wayfarer eyeglasses with a thick tortoiseshell frame that pressed awkwardly against his brow bone. You leaned across the center console of the car, and when you reached up to his face, he smiled dopily at you, expecting some loving, gentle caress. But, when you ripped the tag off of the glasses he had just bought at the pharmacy, his jaw clenched, lips turning downward into a chagrined frown. You settled behind the wheel again.

He seemed strangely excited about the prospect of donning a costume for the mission, so unlike his usual disgruntled self. Even so, his efforts at disguise were last-minute and low-effort. Earlier, before you had left the apartment to drive to the gala’s discreet venue, he had flattened his hair onto his forehead in an uncharacteristic style, reminiscent of the neatly-combed 60’s mop-tops donned by the likes of Ringo Starr. And, when you were slinging on your heels, ready to walk out of the door, he had asked you to dust some eyeshadow below his eyes. He explained that exaggerated dark circles would help to draw his face down and make him appear slightly older.

You obliged, trying not to let the breath stall in your throat as you traced a cool taupe shade below his eyes in faint crescents. You couldn’t ignore the fact that his eyes were trained on you the whole time.

The way his eyes followed your every move had made you suddenly shy and docile, even though just minutes before, you had been on your knees in front of him, his cock shoved down your throat. After he came, he had brought you up from your knees to a standing position, and had kissed you with the fervor of a man who was just getting started.

But, you had a mission. Which you were already late for.

You had fixed your hair and lipstick quickly after he had tucked himself back into his pants, a brush and a damp tissue working wonders to conceal your tryst. And then, you were both out of the door, climbing into your car and plugging the gala’s location into Google maps.

But, first, he had insisted on making a stop. You groaned, clutching the wheel tightly as he directed you through traffic towards a pharmacy a few blocks away from the venue. You parallel parked and he jumped out of the car, jaunting into the store with bouncing, confident steps. You left the engine running, eager to get to the gala. The sooner your mission was over, after all, the sooner you could both return to the apartment and resume where you left off.

The thought made you ache, the wetness pooling in your underwear momentarily making you forget the jittery tapping of your foot and the sweat that slicked the creases of your palms. Your stomach flipped when you remembered the blissed-out expression on Bucky’s face as your mouth had bobbed up and down his length, lips popping with a lewd smack as you pulled back--

The passenger door opened and Bucky climbed in with a plastic bag in hand, interrupting your daydreaming and making you jump.

He noticed, settling in his seat and shutting the car door behind him.“Pre-mission jitters?” He asked knowingly.

“Uh-- yeah.” You blushed, choosing not to elaborate.

He simply gave you a smirk, as if he could read your every thought, and pulled his purchase from the plastic bag. A pair of reading glasses. He slid them on, and you scoffed.

“Glasses? Really?” You lightly whacked his arm, laughing. “Who are you, Clark Kent?”

He shrugged. “Well, it seemed to work for him just fine.”

“Alright, just don’t come complaining to me when the magnification in the lenses starts giving you a headache.”

“Noted.”

You pulled out from your parking spot and rejoined traffic, hoping to find a parking space closer to the venue. You didn’t want to use the valet, just in case things went south and you needed a convenient means of escape. So, when you were two blocks away, you parked.

You both climbed out, stepping up to the sidewalk and locking the car as you began to walk. You smoothed your hands nervously over the skirt of your dress, breath slightly shaky. Missions like these were a part of the job description, but you would never get used to the nerves they gave you.

Or, maybe, the possibility of impending doom wasn’t what was giving you nerves.

Maybe it was the man walking next to you.

You bit your lip at the thought, turning your head to look at him.

“What?” he asked, still facing ahead, surveying the streets around them for possible exit points they could use if the evening went south.

You just shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It wasn’t safe to get distracted like this, on a night as potentially dangerous as this one. Instead, you surveyed his body language, noticing that he had adopted a slouch to accompany his floppy hair, gaunt makeup, and glasses.

You snorted. “You look like an old man.”

“I am an old man, thank you very much.” His eyes slid to yours briefly, before facing forwards again.

“Never said it was a bad thing,” you smirked, trying to get a rise out of him before the serious portion of the evening officially began.

He grabbed your wrist suddenly, pulling you flush to his side and wrapping his arm around you.“Oh, I know that you like it,” he whispered, lips brushing against your hair. You felt your throat constrict, and he squeezed your waist before letting you go. “But we’ll have to save that part of the evening for later.”

“If you insist,” you sighed, lacing your voice with faux disappointment, knowing that if there was even a whiff of foul play at tonight’s event, you would both be cool, composed, and on the job, lewd thoughts far from center stage. But, it was fun to tease him, to hope that the gala would be tame, just so that you could go home sooner and do some not-so-tame things with each other.

The venue was a stocky cement building, gray and brutal and unassuming, the windows surprisingly dark. The only indication that it housed a private event was the presence of two guards, their bulky, muscled figures situated on either side of a nondescript metal door. You grabbed Bucky’s hand, fingers intertwining with his, and took a deep breath before you approached the guards.

You cleared your throat. “We’re here for the GRC event.” You clenched your jaw as both guards swept their gazes up and down your’s and Bucky’s bodies.

“Last name?” The one on the right asked gruffly, not bothering to look at your faces, pulling a tablet computer from behind his back to check the guest list.

“Jancovik. Daria Jancovik.” Your voice was steady despite the nerves, the fake name rolling off your tongue.

The guard raised his eyebrows and looked up, stepping to the side and gesturing to the door. “Ah, of course. Miss Jancovik.”

You smiled warmly. Your plan had worked. The real Daria Jancovik, a foreign informer who reported migrants to the GRC, leading to eventual deportation, was on… vacation. You had paid her an earlier visit, advising her to leave the country, to return home and visit her family instead of attending the gala. Bucky had advised you against this approach, claiming that it was too risky, that it would be better to just find a way to sneak in. But, you told him, it was better to enter where the GRC would least expect: the front door. And, it looked like the real Daria Jancovik took your advice-- she obviously wasn’t here.

“Thank you, sir.” You nodded slightly, leading Bucky behind you, hand still clutching his.

“Wait, Miss Jancovik.” The guard barred your entry with an outstretched arm. “The guest list doesn’t say anything about you having a plus one.”

Fuck. You tried not to let your brows furrow, tried to quash the electric feeling of panic that traveled down your spine. You bit your lip and broke into a shy simper, staring up at the guard through fluttering lashes.

“Oh, so sorry, sir,” you drawled slowly, voice dripping with apology. But, your voice shook, a slight tremor belying your confident tone and drawing a suspicious glare from both guards. You hadn’t planned for this. Your palms began sweating again, and your thoughts ran wild, searching for any plausible alibis that would explain your companion. But you couldn’t focus, thoughts erratic and shapeless. Your mouth dropped open, ready to babble some thoughtless, on-the-spot response, when Bucky cleared his throat next to you.

“Sir, I am what you may call a… generous donor.” He enunciated his last words carefully, adopting some strange, implacable and vaguely European accent. His words lilted and swirled lightly in his mouth, further elaborating his mysterious presence.

In spite of this, the guards weren’t convinced. “If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in.”

Bucky simply stared back at him and squinted, deciding to try a more blunt angle. “I have a previous arrangement with this young woman. I… help her with personal causes. Of a financial nature. And, I was hoping to witness her fine employer in action tonight. I am… willing to spread my generosity to its cause, if I find it to be convincing.” You tried to conceal the awe that threatened to spill on your face at his quick save. And, you wanted to laugh at the insinuation that Bucky was your sugar daddy, some stuffy, lonely old man with heavy pockets brimming with cash. In reality, he struggled to pay rent and didn’t own a bed frame. It was comical, watching him trying to swallow his inner protests at the idea, managing his microexpressions with a steady, slightly uncomfortable stare.

You both paused, letting the guard’s mind wander.

His eyes flickered to his partner briefly before settling back on you.

The guard considered for a moment, and then simply nodded, avoiding further elaboration from you about your relationship. He stepped aside again. “Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly at him before stepping past him and opening the door, tugging Bucky behind you.

“Wow,” you muttered as the door creaked shut behind you. A looming, dark passage stretching out before you, the dimly lit, bright red door at the end your final barrier to successfully infiltrating the gala. The thrumming pulse of music seemed to make the walls vibrate. You looked at Bucky, and he dropped your hand, flexing his fingers. “The plan actually worked.”

He laughed, and you both started walking toward the red door. “Only because my old man costume came in handy.”

“Well, like you said earlier,” you hissed. “You are an old man.”

He just shook his head slightly at your recall, and when you were both a foot away from the red door’s threshold, you paused. You did a mental check on your weapons, ticking them off on your mental checklist one by one. Handgun in thigh holster, check. Knife in ankle strap, check. Baggie of poison tablets in bra, check--

“You ready?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your last-minute internal review, and you turned to face him. His concerned expression ignited a whole new kind of nerves in your stomach, warm, fluttery electricity travelling down your limbs like lightning. It was a delicious feeling, and you longed to lean into it, to allow yourself to be cocooned by its enticing, buzzing embrace. To allow your tense muscles to relax, to press your body against his, melting into the muscled, statuesque contours and comforting stability of his body.

You were most definitely distracted, but that’s because you hadn’t had a proper outlet for your pre-mission jitters. Sucking his cock, watching him devolve into a euphoric, aroused state, had only gotten you more worked up than you usually were before missions. You felt embarrassment bubble in your stomach, a deep red blush travelling up your neck at the thought that you couldn’t control yourself in this moment. Your judgement was clouded, all because you couldn’t fucking function around a man like Bucky Barnes.

Bucky grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You felt bad, noticing the genuine concern behind his eyes, but figured it was best to tell him. You didn’t want to lie and endanger the rest of the mission with your preoccupied thoughts. “Umm-- this doesn’t usually happen, but… I’m a bit… distracted.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You huffed a laugh and bit your lip, trying to gain the courage to tell him the truth. “Uh-- I guess I’m still… still stuck on what happened earlier tonight. Before we left the apartment?” You said it like a question, sentence nervously trailing up in pitch at the end.

His expression was unreadable, the pressing dark of the hallway leaving his face in shadow. But then, his teeth flashed in a broad smile. “I remember what happened,” he said fondly, as if you two were reminiscing on a shared memory before entering battle together. “But what’s holding you up about it right now?”

You took a deep breath. Time to come clean. “I’m just still a bit worked up.”

He raised his brows slightly in surprise, then nodded, face settling into an expression of understanding. “That makes sense. You didn’t get your release.”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke around the single syllable, your blush now flooding your cheeks.

“Well,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin and tracing his fingertips lightly along the curve of your neck, trailing them down your spine until settling at your waist. He squeezed slightly, making you gasp. “How quickly could you cum? If I helped you right now?”

You blinked in disbelief, shocked by his vulgar words, but when he just continued to stare at you expectantly, waiting for a response, you realized that he was serious. You scoffed. “I-- I don’t know. Probably pretty quickly.”

“Good.” He pushed you back, your exposed skin meeting the cool cement of the wall, pounding beats and indistinguishable lyrics pulsing through you to your very core. He stared at you for a moment, drinking in your neediness and saving the image of your blown-out pupils and parted lips for later. And then, he bridged the gap between you, resting his forehead against yours before pressing his mouth lightly against yours.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, despite your admission to a desire so pressing, so consuming, that you couldn’t focus on your job. And then, his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, catching it in a faint, erotic bite. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, nipples peaking and wetness pooling in your underwear. You felt his lips curve upwards into a smug smile. You simply pulled him closer, sliding your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He took that as an invitation to push the kiss further, his tongue sliding against your swollen lips, softly prying your mouth open. He was sweet, so gentle and patient, but a sense of urgency drove his actions. He wanted to help you, so that you could release that burning tension coiled inside of you. You had treated him so nicely earlier that evening. He hoped to return the favor. Well, that and he also wanted to watch you cum.

You shuddered another moan into his mouth and he pulled back a fraction, hands tracing down your sides. He grasped the slinky fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up until it was bunched around your hips, exposing your thin underwear to the cool air and solid press of cement behind you. He let out a low whistle at the sight, the delicate black lace and your soft skin.

You grabbed his wrist, sudden doubt blaring in your brain. “W-wait. What about the mission?”

He simply met your gaze with his, maintaining eye contact while he slowly sunk to his knees in front of you. He twisted his wrist out from your grip, wrapping his hand around one of your ankles and lifting your leg, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Yeah? What about the mission?”

You could feel his hot breath against your clothed pussy as he answered, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You pressed your head into the wall behind you, trying to fight the urge to twine your hands through his hair and beckon him to where you needed him most. Despite your weak protests, you desperately hoped that he would continue his actions. “Shouldn’t we--”

Your words trailed off into a long, loud moan as he quickly moved your underwear to the side and licked a long, wet stripe up your aching slit. He pulled back slightly to look up at you, and he hummed, pleased at your desperation, your knotted brows rosy cheeks.

“It’s alright, darling.” He scraped his fingernails teasingly up your other leg, chuckling as it buckled under you at the unexpected stimulation. And then, he settled that hand on your inner thigh, pressing his thumb against the soft skin and circling it lightly in a teasing massage. “We’ll make it quick.”

He waited for you to consent before continuing. You just nodded, not trusting yourself to form words, and he smiled wickedly before dragging his fingers against your wetness and plunging two digits into your center.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, his thick fingers igniting a pleasant ache as they pushed inside of you, stroking your tight walls slowly until they relaxed around him. When he leaned forward, closing his mouth against your clit and flicking it with his tongue, you sighed. He lapped at your wetness eagerly, lips making an obscene smacking sound. You felt your muscles relax, that enticing, stirring warmth quickly travelling through your body as he teased you into a state of relaxed arousal.

He pulled back yet again to look at you, and you wanted to moan at the loss of his tongue, but he replaced it by circling the pad of his thumb against your sensitive nub. He noticed your hands, balled tightly at your sides, and he laughed.

“You can grab my hair if you want, baby. I don’t mind if everyone in there sees that I have sex hair.” He jutted his chin towards the door as he increased the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you.

That permission was all you needed. You reached forward and twined one hand through his hair, bringing his face closer to you and inviting him to continue his earlier ministrations. Your other hand remained rooted against the wall, a necessary point of balance as he made you fall apart at his command. He replaced his mouth at your center, making you shudder.

It was warm, it was rough, and it was everything you needed. You tried not to think about the risk of intrusion, of the guards outside letting in other guests and getting an eyeful of a private moment. Or, if someone opened the red door and wandered in, they would be right on top of you, close enough to smell the musk of your arousal and see the pebbled peaks of your nipples pressing through the satin of your dress. It would be humiliating. Bucky would never let you live it down, forever reminding you on future missions about the time when you were caught with your legs wrapped around his ears. But, if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of someone walking in and witnessing you, drenched and dirty and moaning all because of him, only served to turn you on even more. A loud moan erupted from your lips, wetness squelching as he curled his fingers inside of you and sucked lewdly. You pulled his hair tightly, urging him on as you came closer and closer to completion.

In response to the sharp tugging of your fingers, he moaned, echoing the shameless sounds that were tumbling from your lips. The faint vibrations, the low, gruff sound of him as he lost himself in the endeavor of giving you pleasure, made you clench around him. A glowing pool of warmth began to form in your stomach, tension building and building. You bit your lip. The feeling of his mouth, sliding and sucking against your clit, and the sensation of his fingers spreading you open and coaxing sweet, high-pitched moans from your lips. It was almost too much. You slapped the wall with your free hand, twitching with pleasure as a deep, burning tension began to build.When his curled fingers rubbed against the spongy, sensitive spot inside of you, that was it.

With a high, keening cry, you fell over the edge, your orgasm wracking your body. A copious gush of wetness flooded from your center, likely drenching his face, and your legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath you. He sensed this, his free hand pressing your hips roughly against the wall, still thrusting his fingers inside of you and suckling your clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, wringing every last ounce of warm, dripping pleasure from your body, not slowing down or stopping until a dull, tired ache bloomed in your center and you had to pull him back by his hair. He grinned up at you, making eye contact with you through his lashes, a slick wetness clinging to his upper lip. He huffed a laugh at the reluctant sucking sound your pussy made when he slipped his fingers out.

You rolled your eyes and he guided your leg off of his shoulder, making sure it was planted firmly on the ground before moving your underwear neatly back into place. He rose from his kneeling position. As he grasped your waist, your skirt fell back down around you in a dramatic curtain, and he pulled you close, kissing you lightly. The taste of you on his lips was intoxicating.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, and stared at you with a half-lidded, deeply satisfied expression. He had liked making you come apart just as much as you had appreciated the release.

“Uh oh,” he whispered, grabbing your chin and examining your face. “Looks like we ruined your lipstick again.”

You laughed, a raspy, tired sound, and smacked his chest lightly, stepping back. “Well,” you sighed, smiling up at him. “I don’t mind. I’ll go straight to the bathroom to fix it. Brought an extra tube of lipstick in my purse for any… potential touch-ups.”

He raised his eyebrows, smoothing a hand over his mussed hair and straightening the cuffs of his sleeves. “Sounds like you planned for this to happen.”

You shook your head. “Only subconsciously.”

He grinned, and you both turned to face the red door. Despite the fact that just moments before, you were writhing around his fingers, wanton moans swallowed by the diffused thump of techno music, you felt serene, ready to jump into action. No more distracting thoughts clouded your mind.

“Ready?” He asked, reaching for the knob, waiting for your confirmation before continuing.

You nodded in affirmation and smiled, eyes crinkling.

“Ready.”

He turned the knob and swung the door open. You walked through the doorway side by side, partners in crime, ready to meet whatever awaited you beyond its threshold.

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fizzyxcustard · 3 years

Note

In case you’re in need of new prompts… 😈 Remember the Scott White request with “It is all a dream, isn’t it?”. I know I do. And I bet @linasofia does too 😈😈😈

Can I ask you for a continuation of this fic? Pretty please? 🥺🙏

Scott White and “This is still a dream, isn’t it?” 😏 Get wild with this sentence! :)

Fandom: Sleepwalker (2017)

Pairings: Dr Scott White x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Questioning sanity, anxiety, language, smut references (slight), slight angst

Summary: You have no idea what is real and what isn't. Scott, the man in your dreams, is becoming more and more real. Part 1 can be read here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists (either the Follow Forever or for a particular character/fandom, please let me know) If you don't know what ASMR (it's something that's mentioned in this fic) is, then by all means ask. Or even better, have a look on Google. :) It can describe the phenomena way better than I can.

You stared at the card between your fingers. Your steady gaze moved through the weaves, joining them into a plait. Scott's ring. Surely this was just a coincidence? But who would be sending you flowers? Roses, in particular. You didn't have a recent ex. The only ex you did have was from many years ago, a fiancé. Your life now was mainly lived in solitude. Scott's presence in your dreams had ignited a longing for someone. Before Scott, and you didn't care about being alone. Now it was all you felt.

You couldn't help but think this was all a joke. Had someone from work, one of the buff, arrogant guys who worked as a tech specialist, decided to do this just to play up to one of the girls he wanted to bang?

You could feel a tremor in your hands as you tried to comprehend everything that was happening. It was one of two things: you were losing your mind, or you were being bullied by someone from work. It could only be those two possibilities. A secret crush was something you never dared imagine. Any hint of interest from a guy and you shrugged it off with a cynical laugh.

For the rest of the evening you sat in your living room, tucked up in a blanket.

You gripped the card between your fingers. What kind of card was this? It was like no business card you had ever seen. A simple symbol on one side and pure white on the other.

Every small sound put you on edge: the ticking of the clock on your wall, the tapping of your pet guinea pig drinking from its bottle.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I must have seen that symbol somewhere before, at a company, or even the florists, and subconsciously made it up.

Podcasts kept you company for the rest of the evening. They were simple ASMR audio; someone whispering into the microphone, followed by someone tapping on a computer keyboard. The tingles scattered down the back of your head and neck, flickers of pleasure mixed with relaxation. Whispering always made you lose yourself in the sensations.

Teetering on the edge of consciousness and sleep, you suddenly saw a bearded man standing in front of you. It was Scott. Your eyes shot open, your heart thundering in response. You gasped his name, but his form disappeared. The clearer your vision became, the less of him there was. It was as if he were pixilated, and the closer you got to consciousness, the less of him remained.

You couldn't help but break down into tears, overcome by your want for him. He was beautiful, romantic, kind. The perfect man. But still a figment of your imagination, created by the facets of personality you admired in the opposite sex.

The darkness followed you around, shrouding you as you got into bed. It was like the darkness you had seen in your last dream with Scott, all encompassing. Until he appeared, bathed in the light of the streetlamp. He brought light with him.

As you lay on your back, you stared at the shadows on the ceiling. A very gentle breeze brushed across your face, one you did not question. It lulled you to sleep, like a mother cradling her child. Soothing.

You were back in the dark street. This time you could feel everything in the moment, the texture of the jeans against your legs. The pressure of the overcoat around you. Everything was so real. Dirt crushed beneath your feet as you walked, heading for the streetlamp. You called for Scott. The words so real on your tongue. This felt like the real world, not the one you were used to living.

Scott was nowhere to be seen. Warm and wet, the tears fell down your cheeks. So real.

Why have you left me? I need you. Of course this is a dream. It would never be real. Why would anyone want me the way you say you do?

You walked the street, recognising buildings from your youth. Your school. Your original family home. All the places that you played on your own; small wooded areas, parks. Everywhere was from a memory.

It was still dark as you came back to the waking world, looking up at the ceiling. Immediately you sensed a presence, a pair of eyes watching you. "This is still a dream, isn't it?" you asked, never even looking to see who was watching you. It still felt like a dreamworld. Woven memory and fantasy, joining.

"No," a baritone voice whispered. "You allowed me to become real."

You turned your face to the side, and saw Scott slide into the bed beside you. He kissed you, slowly at first, and then the passion built. He rose up over you, his hips tight against yours.

You moaned his name which spurred him on all the more, his lips nipping at your neck and down to your breasts. His beard was warm and strangely soft.

You stiffened as the realisation hit you, pushing through the ascending arousal. "Please don't. You're not real." You opened your eyes and looked up at him, his silver blue gaze locked on you. His hand was tight in yours, your fingers laced. Upon your words, his grip tightened.

"You have made me real," he said, smiling. "You have brought me to life."

You shifted away, pulling yourself from him. "No, you're not. And you never will be. You're in my head."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @narniaandthenorth @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @meganlpie @linasofia @knitastically @brokennerdalert @clumsy-wonderland

Richard Armitage tag list: @sketch-and-write-lover @cryptichobbit

#Richard Armitage #Fic #Lathalea #Prompt Request #Prompt #Fic Request #Scott White x Fem!Reader #Scott White x Reader #Scott White x You #Sleepwalker #Sleepwalker (2017)

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

Pre- relationship. Amy having a wet dream about Jake, and then she being distracted at work.

He's leaning over her while she sits at her desk, and he's weirdly close. Too close. She can feel his breath on her jaw, and she bends her head a little to get away from it, and then she feels his lips against her neck, kissing and sucking and nibbling their way up and down, and she gasps and leans back into him. His hand is tangling in her hair that has come undone from her bun, holding her head in place at just the right tilt that he wants, biting dark red hickeys into her skin in places even her blouses won't hide, and they're at work, in the middle of the bullpen, where everyone could see, where everyone could hear her little sighs and whines-

On monday, he leans over her to look at something on her computer as they talk about a case, and her heart stops for a second. He's much further away than he was in her dream tonight, but she can still smell him, his cologne mixed with whatever it is that makes Jake smell of Jake. It was a very prominent scent in her dream as well, and she can feel her thighs tense involuntarily as he leans forward some more to jab a finger against her screen and talk about something she doesn't really hear.

It was just a dream, one silly little dream, where nothing much even happened, so she's not going to put any weight to it or try to find any meaning. Just because she woke up panting and sweating, with the intense need to touch herself being immediately ignored, doesn't mean she has to let it affect her work. So she pretends she's heard what Jake just said, and throws in her own opinion on the case.

The metal sides of the evidence shelves are hard against her spine as he presses her into them, his hand cradling her neck so she doesn't hit her head as he kisses her. Her lips part for barely an inch, and she feels his tongue slip into her mouth, feels it tangle around hers that is so eager to reply. They're slow and sensual in their kiss, breaking apart only to breathe a little before diving back into it, while his free hand roams over her pantsuit. Wraps around her breast and rubs her hard nipple even through her bra. Slides down her side to splay against her butt, nails digging in as he squeezes. Moves on to the front, between her legs, to press his flat palm against her as she moans into his mouth-

She doesn't think about it on tuesday, until she's standing in the evidence locker alone, staring at the boxes on the shelf looking for the case number printed on the files she's holding. The memory of her dream hits her out of nowhere, her face flushing immediately as the feeling of... everything rushes back. It all felt so real that she thinks can still taste him on her lips, but that's just her imagination running wild - she doesn't know what he tastes like, and she doesn't want to know - probably just unbelievably sweet from his sugary breakfast, with a hint of coffee with too much cream in it, and- When the door opens and she hears his voice, she doesn't mean to throw the stack of files straight at his face, that's just where they hit him before he stares at her like she's grown a second head, and she rushes to pick them all up and then run out of the room, completely forgetting the evidence she wanted to check.

The couch of the breakroom is far less disgusting than she remembers, while she leans back and feels large, strong hands pull her hips to the edge of it. Her pantsuit slacks are gone, so she feels his hot breath on her through only her panties, as he rubs the tip of his nose along the gusset. She shivers from top to bottom, which he takes as a prompt to pull the last bit of fabric aside and lick a wide stripe up her heat. She keens when he lands on her clit, swirls slow, perfectly pressured circles around it, two of his wonderful long fingers playing with her folds before pushing into her. He wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, hard, and she screams while his fingers stroke inside her-

She needs coffee on wednesday, but Jake is lying on the couch in the breakroom going over a difficult case with Charles seated at the table. He's just lying there, legs splayed wide, tossing his stretchy bands ball in the air while he talks, and she cannot walk past him. Not without bursting into flames from the heat on her face. Not without staring at his mouth, those soft lips her imagination has created a definitive feel for now on any part of her body. So she goes without coffee, despite being awake since 4am because she couldn't fall back asleep after that dream, clenching her thighs and pressing her face into her pillow to ignore her ache. She'll get over it. (He brings her a cup of coffee half an hour later with a smile and a wink. "5 yawns in ten minutes is a new record, Santiago" he says as he walks on, and she hides her blushing face behind the cup as she empties it.)

He's so hard against her lips as she kisses up and down his shaft, hard and hot and wanting. He groans when she swirls her tongue around his tip, moans an obscene noise as she takes him into her mouth fully, her nose pressing against his lower belly. She can hear the old office chair creak below him as he shifts his hips, tries not to buck into her mouth when she begins to suck and bop her head. "Oh god, Amy, fuck, Ames-" she hears from high above her as she unravels him. One of his hands finds its way into her hair, holds on tight but not forcefully, while the other grabs her hand resting against his thigh, entangles their fingers and squeezes with every moan she pulls out of him. "Ames" becomes almost a mantra, repeated again and again and-

"Santiago." Holt's voice pulls her out of her drifting thoughts on thursday, and she jolts up to stare at him behind his desk, Jake seated next to her. His chair had creaked when he sat down opposite the Captain, and Amy's brain had turned to mush. He's sitting there now, in just the way he did in her dream, casually leant back, his knees jutting out to the sides, as if he was in some bar instead of their superior's office, and God she hates that inquiring look with a raised eyebrow he's giving her right now. She licks her dry lips, cursing the fact that her imagination has not only invented what his lips against her feel like by now, but has gone for the other way around as well. "I'm sorry, sir." She forces herself back to reality. "I didn't hear the last thing you said. Could you repeat it, please?" Both Jake and Holt are giving her that look now, but she's going to power through it. She's a professional.

She's in the interrogation room, and the metal of the handcuffs is cold around her wrists as she stares at the mirrored glass in front of her. The door opens and Jake steps in, his face unreadable as he looks through a file, a view she's seen many times before, but never from this angle. Never from the suspect's chair. "What the hell is going on?!" She barks at him, pulling at the chains wrapped around the metal bar in the table. "That's what I'm wondering." He replies as he drops the files on the table and circles around it until he's beside her, instead of sitting down in the chair opposite. "You've been acting strange all week-" he continues, and oh God, he's noticed... "-and I think I know why." His hand is in her hair, again, and this time it pulls, tilts her head back until she's staring at the ceiling and her mouth opens for him as he bends down to kiss her hard and intense. She's panting when he pulls back, and his eyes are dark and unreadable. "Stand up." He says as he lets go of her hair, and she can't do anything but obey. The cuffs around her hand make her bend over just slightly, unable to straighten her spine, and she leans on the table instead. He undoes the button on her pants, pulls down her zip, and then his hand is between her legs, finds her wet and aching already. Two of his fingers part her as he whispers in her ear. "This what's got you so distracted?" He nibbles on her earlobe. "Thinking about me instead of doing your work?" He kisses her before she can answer - not that she could, the way he's circling her clit again, her thighs burning from standing at this angle. "Let's help you get your mind settled and back to business." She hears before his hand leaves her crotch and she whines at the loss of pressure. He pulls down her pants entirely as he walks behind her, and she hears the chair's legs scuff across the floor, and the clink of a belt buckle. His hands swipe up the back of her thighs, massage her butt and spread her for a second. "Sit down." He commands again, and she does so slowly, feels the stretch of him as she lowers herself on his cock, feels the ache burn deep in her stomach as she clenches around him. She's breathing hard as she adjusts to his size, and her handcuffs are gone in a flash when he pulls her back to lean against his chest, spreads her legs wider across his lap. One hand is wrapped around her still cloth-covered breast, the other already working on her clit again as he begins to thrust into her from his seat, and she meets him with a twist of her hips with every move. It feels so good, exactly what she needs, what she wants, and she's not going to last long, she's going to-

She's sitting in the interrogation room on the right side on friday, a perp staring at her from the other seat, and she's blinking hard to keep the thoughts away. Jake is on the other side of the mirrored glass, she knows that, she knows he's watching her back, probably wondering why she's barely spoken to the drug dealer in front of her so far. She's trying so hard not to think about the most vivid, most detailed dream she's had so far. Tries to ignore the burn in her crotch as she presses her butt deeper into the seat. Tries just as hard not to think about how she just couldn't resist anymore when she woke up at 5am again, slipping her hands into her pajama bottoms first and then yanking open her bedside drawer for her vibrator. She thought it would finally stop the nonsense. Settle her mind so she could get back to business. She hears that last thought in Jake's voice, though, and before the perp in front of her can even say anything, she taps out with the little signal they've agreed on years ago for interrogations.

-*-

"Hey." Jake's voice as he comes up to her in the hallway, after booking the drug dealer into holding, is so soft and kind, so different to the voice that's been swirling around her head ever since she hurried out of the interrogation room as he passed her to go inside. She'd stood in the hidden room behind it as regulations demanded, to be a second witness, but she didn't hear a single thing either of the men in the room said. "Are you okay?" He asks, and she should've expected it, considering she's only ever tapped out of an interrogation twice, and the situations had been far worse then, the reason for her discomfort clearly obvious. "I'm fine." She grinds her teeth, tries not to look at him for fear of what memory her brain might supply. "You've been acting strange all week." He quotes himself from her dream, but it's far less sultry, far more worried. It does not help settle her back into reality, though. "Just... been sleeping real bad. Having a lot of... nightmares. For some reason." She mumbles as an explanation, and he stares at her just a second too long before he nods.

She decides to take a lunch break outside of the bullpen for once and doesn't invite him to come along like she usually would, even as he steps out of the building with her for some reason. When she comes back an hour later, Jake is already gone again on a field call, and she tries not to feel too glad about that. There's a little box on her desk with her full name on it, as much as she can decipher it from his chicken scratch, and her heart hitches. She looks around if anyone is watching before opening it, but everyone's head down into their work, and Charles is probably out with Jake. A small, silver dragon plushie hides inside the box, with green marble eyes and glittery spikes along his tail. She both smiles and furrows her eyebrows when she picks it up in wonder, finding a small card attached like a collar.

I eat nightmares it says, in the same wonderful chicken scratch she knows so well. She dreams about a knight that night, come to rescue a princess from her tower, only to discover that she and the dragon are actually best friends, having an exorbitant feast for lunch. He apologises for the misunderstanding, takes off his helmet and asks if he can join them, and when he throws meat strips for the dragon to catch later, he turns over to the princess and smiles at her, that wide, wonderful grin only a Peralta could give. And if the princess leans over to kiss it off of his face before Amy wakes up, well, she doesn't mind it for once, hugging her dragon plushie tighter to her chest and drifting back to sleep.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #smexy times #that tag has to hold out until I find something better #Title of my s*x tape

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spencersstrawberryjello · 3 years

Text

Shitty Slasher Film (Spencer Reid + gn!MC - platonic)

Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8 (and minor season 7 spoilers but I figure if you’ve seen season 8 you’ve probably seen season 7 already lmao) MC and Spencer decide to go see a slasher film, but it takes a turn for the worse when the killer begins to stalk his victim.

Content: Hurt/Comfort (because literally what else do I write at this point)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, depressive thoughts, and swearing

MC’s name and pronouns: Neither explicitly mentioned

Word Count: 2285

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The plan was simple.

We were going to see a new horror movie in the theaters - it seemed similar to a slasher film that Morgan, Garcia, Reid and I had seen like six or seven months ago, so I didn’t think anything of it when we booked the tickets. Morgan and Garcia couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately, but we still elected to go on our own, thinking it would be a fun little outing. That was, until the film started.

The lights came up on a woman, walking through a back alley alone, at night. Typical. I even glanced over at Spencer and rolled my eyes a bit, and he grinned at the stereotypical horror movie trope.

She died, of course, and for the first half of the movie I genuinely thought it was going to be exactly what we assumed. We were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, with the stupid special effects and the subpar acting. But everything went off the rails after the first half of the movie.

The killer had revealed his primary target, his endgame, and - much to my horror - he had begun to stalk her.

Scenes of her creating a disguise, moving houses, throwing away her phone, spun a dark web that I didn’t ever want to think about. But I had more pressing things to worry about than my fear at a movie that was literally intended to make you scared.

I glanced over at Spencer, and I could tell that his breathing had picked up. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles as white as his face had turned. I put a hand over his, and his attention snapped to me.

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked him. It was a stupid question, and one I already knew the answer to, but it was the first thing I could think to say. He looked like he was weighing his options for a moment before he shook his head.

“Do you want to leave?” I followed. He nodded, eyes wild, and we quickly grabbed our bags and left, just as the stalker had pulled a gun on his victim. Spencer took one last look at the screen, watching with wide eyes as the victim begged for her life. It was like a trainwreck; he couldn’t take his eyes off the movie, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as the stalker pulled the trigger, and the woman crumpled to the ground. He practically jumped out of his skin when the gunshots fired, and I grabbed his arm to usher him out.

I didn’t realize the full extent of his panic until we made it out of the theater, bursting through the doors into the significantly brighter lights of the hallway. He immediately sat down on the couch near the doors, head in his hands, breathing rapidly.

“Ok, you’ve gotta breathe, Reid. You’ve gotta breathe, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth, can you do that?” I adjusted my breathing to fit the pattern, and saw that he had started to slow his as well. “Good, ok… we can sit here for as long as you need to, just focus on your breathing.”

He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, continuing to breathe slowly before lifting his head from his hands. His eyes were red, and it was clear he’d been trying to fight off tears.

“Reid, I’m so sorry -”

It was at that moment that he cut me off with a hug, tucking his head in the crook of my neck as I felt his body lightly shake with sobs. After a second I hugged him back, not used to physical affection from him, but not opposed as long as he was ok with it.

“It reminded you too much of Maeve, didn’t it?” I asked, trying to ensure that the story I had in my head was correct. He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps again, and I hugged him a bit tighter. “Reid, I’m so sorry, I never would’ve suggested this movie if I’d known the turn the story was going to take.”

He shook his head, sucking in deep breaths before finally attempting to speak. “No, no, it’s ok, I know that you wouldn’t have done this on purpose. It’s just…”

He trailed off, but I knew what he was trying to say. “I was there that day, Reid. I know how much she meant to you.”

“The girl in the movie kind of looked like her. You know? Same hair, same face shape… when I saw the fear in her eyes, all I could imagine was Maeve, terrified, with a gun to her head. The woman I love - loved. The woman I loved. Scared, and alone.”

“Oh, Reid… you know it’s not your fault, right? You did everything you could to save her.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I should’ve closed my eyes, I should’ve tackled Diane - hell, I should’ve shot that bitch the minute I walked into the room! Instead I stood there. I stood there while the woman I loved died in front of me, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“Spencer.” I put my hands on his shoulders, pulling back from the hug to look into his eyes. “You absolutely cannot blame yourself for this. What happened to Maeve was horrible, but it was not your fault. And you can’t live your life with that on your conscience.”

“Maybe I deserve to.” His voice was soft as he tucked his head back into the crook of my neck, and I put my arms around him, one hand lightly rubbing his back. My heart broke for the man in my arms - my best friend - as he sniffled, a few stray tears still trickling down his face.

“You don’t deserve to live with that kind of guilt, Spencer. Guilt for something you didn’t even do. And I’m so, so sorry that you feel that way. And I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it go away,” He argued, his voice muffled by the fabric of my t-shirt, “Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”

I heard his voice hitch when he said it, and I held him a bit tighter. “I know it doesn’t.”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice thick with tears begging to be released. “I just wish I could bring her back.”

It was as if saying it broke something in him, and I felt his body shake as he cried again, consumed by grief and guilt unlike anything I could ever imagine. He was usually so closed off about his emotions that having him crying in my arms was a rare occurrence, even after years of friendship. The last time he was like this was after Emily’s… “death,” and even that wasn’t near as intense.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat on that bench, the orange lights of the movie theater hallway creating a strange liminal sensation as I held Spencer, finally releasing the emotions he’d clearly been pushing away since Maeve’s death.

Eventually, he stopped crying, his breathing returning to something close to normal, and he pulled away from me, his eyes red from tears.

“I’m sor -”

“Nope, do not even start to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He closed his mouth, contemplating saying something else for a second before nodding, hugging me again.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Reid. Do you want to go back to my place? We can order a pizza, and watch a movie - something we know this time. If you need to be alone, I understand, but -”

He shook his head. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady my own breathing after everything that just happened, “Good. Are you ok to walk to the car?”

“Yeah… I’m not sure how talkative I’m going to be tonight though…” He kind of trailed off, clearly drained, but not wanting to be alone.

“I understand; you know there’s no expectations with me, Reid. If you want to just wrap yourself up in a blanket and eat junk food, I get it. I just want to be there, to make sure that you’re ok.”

He gave me a small smile, and I grinned, grabbing his hand to help him off the bench. We made our way out to my car, and I climbed in, starting it before turning on the radio.

Spencer was pretty much silent the entire drive back to my apartment, the noise in the car mostly consisting of the music and my less than stellar singing. When we finally pulled into the complex, we headed upstairs to my place.

“I’m gonna order the food. Do you wanna find something on Netflix you like?” I asked as I unlocked the door. He nodded, and I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, putting in the pizza order on my computer. I saw him grab a blanket from the basket in the living room, wrapping it around his shoulders and plopping down on my couch.

I expected to return to the living room to see whatever movie we were watching cued up on the TV. Instead, I saw Spencer, staring at the wall across from him, remote untouched on the coffee table.

“Hey,” I sat down next to him, gently putting one hand on his shoulder, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

He was silent for a moment, and I could see the mental battle he was fighting. Eventually, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid that if I allow myself to grieve, if I allow myself to think about what happened, I won’t be able to stop. It’s been almost four months, I thought the pain would be gone by now. But it isn’t, it’s… I just miss her. I miss her so much.”

“I know, Reid. I know.”

He leaned into me, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him, the thoughts of pizza and a movie completely abandoned in my mind. Instead, all of my attention was on Spencer as he spoke again.

“On the last case, Rossi talked to me. I told him that I wasn’t sleeping because whenever I did, I would dream of her. Of Maeve. And everytime I saw her, I felt nothing but relief flooding my mind. I told him how she would always ask me to dance, and how I always said no. I never even got to hold her when she was alive, and I was scared that if I gave into the fantasy, I would be lost forever,” He took in a shaky breath before he continued, “And he said I should. He said, ‘just let it happen, Spencer.’ So I did. I danced with her, I held her, and when I woke up, she was all I could think about. The way it felt to wrap my arms around her, the way her head fit perfectly into the crook of my neck while we danced. It took another day before I could think about anything but her, before I could stop wallowing in my grief enough to function. And since that night, I haven’t allowed myself to give into the fantasy again, the fantasy of having her back. I think… I think that if I let it happen again, I won’t be able to come back from it. It’ll just consume me.”

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. He just shook his head, telling me I didn’t need to say anything as we sat there on my couch in silence. He wasn’t crying, he hadn’t cried since we left the theater. He was just… hollow. Everything that he’d been trying to repress - to compartmentalize - had finally caught up to him, in the form of a shitty slasher movie that we’d gotten cheap tickets to see.

I held him tighter, wishing that I could figure out something to say to comfort him, to take away his pain. But I knew there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could do but just be there.

“Have you ever considered talking to someone? Like, not someone from the team - a professional?” I asked.

“I’ve thought about it. But… we’re experts in human behavior, you know? What’s a therapist going to be able to tell me that I can’t already profile myself?”

“Well, it might be helpful to have a licensed professional to talk to about this stuff. Someone who can actually give you advice on how to handle your emotions. Because as much as I am absolutely here for you no matter what, I’m afraid I’m not great at mental health advice.”

“Yeah… maybe.” He sounded dubious about the idea, and while I wanted to encourage him further, I didn’t want to push him today. So I settled for just gently rubbing his back as he laid in my arms, staring at the wall. Eventually, the doorbell rang, and I got up to get the pizza, bringing it back into the living room and setting it down on the coffee table. By now, he’d sat up, the blanket still pulled around his shoulders, but at least a bit more present.

“Thank you,” He said, for the second time that day. I just smiled at him.

“Of course. I love you, Reid. And I’m always here, whatever you need.”

“I love you too,” He gave me a small smile back before turning his attention to the coffee table, “But I also love food - I’m starving.”

I laughed as I handed him a plate, joining him on the couch as we both dug in.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #best friends with spencer #platonic spencer reid #platonic hurt/comfort #angst #hurt/comfort #gn!MC #gender neutral mc

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