#The Chief had already told her she was on suspension

[softquietsteadylove]

For part 4: I've got this idea of mine where Thena blaming Minerva for what happened to Gil and she ordered her that he wants Gil back under her after this mission.

I want you to decide for the rest! I know this is a lot and I am sorry TT, I just wanna say again that your works are beautiful and so are you. Thank you! xoxo

"How'd it go?"

Thena closed the passenger side door with a huff, clipping her seat belt rather aggressively. "It could have gone worse, I suppose."

"So you didn't mouth off and get fired?" Kingo asked as he pulled out of the lot of the agency office building. "I would say I was impressed if you weren't already on suspension for it."

Thena just shrugged. She didn't much care about the suspension, even considering she was a senior agent, and this kind of thing would reflect on her for a very long time to come. It was a well deserved suspension, given how she had screamed in the face of not only Minerva but the Section Chief as well.

All that having been said, Gil had almost died.

The recovery operation was a success. Thena was the best when it came to infiltration, especially after things had already not gone to plan. She and the rest of Special Ops had arrived at the scene and cleaned things up concisely and without mercy.

She had gone further in with Kingo, intent on finding Gil. At the very least they had confirmed that he wasn't one of the reported casualties, but that still left him as potentially injured.

Thena had found him in one of the back corners of the labyrinth of storage lockers. He was barely breathing and there was blood everywhere. If they had been any later, he probably would have...

She had gone in the ambulance with him, Kingo having covered for her absence, with Minerva's help to corroborate Thena's definitely-good-enough reason for leaving the scene.

She owed that much to Minerva, and after she had gotten in her face about the whole thing being her fault. That was unfair of her, and Thena knew it. She knew what being a team leader meant--what it meant to have people's lives in their hands and be solely responsible for it when things went bad.

She was feeling...fragile.

Minerva had taken it like a champ, because of course she had. She didn't reprimand Thena for it, didn't shout back at her, didn't even demand an apology for it later.

The Chief still had her suspended for her behaviour but Thena hadn't cared then and she still didn't, now.

"Did you do what I told you?" Kingo asked as he drove, letting Thena take it easy in the passenger's seat.

Thena crossed her arms, "I displayed...appropriate remorse."

Kingo rolled his eyes, "come on, Boss. I can't do shit with both you and Gil out of commission."

"I know," she mumbled, looking down at her bag on her lap. She really had attempted to appear apologetic for her actions. "I did offer my apologies for it."

"Did you seem sorry?" Kingo looked over at her as he slowed to a stop, "really?"

Thena rolled her eyes and shook her head, "sorry enough."

"So, no," Kingo scoffed and shook his head as well. "If you and Gil get fired, I've gotta get out of this line of work."

Thena smiled, "we're not fired, Kingo. Not yet, anyway."

"Yet," he huffed as he started driving again. He glanced at her, "the transfer?"

"I said that even if I was fired, Gil would be back on Special Ops in exchange."

"Thena-"

"It was the only way I'd go peacefully," she shrugged, repeating it exactly as she had stated it in her probation hearing. "That's all that matters."

Kingo snuck his eyes over to her as she toyed with the bag on her knees. She was fidgeting. "You really think Gil is going to still work here if you don't?"

Thena ignored him. "It's just one more week."

Kingo made a grand show of rolling his eyes at her as he pulled over, "I don't know, Boss. I've already neglected all the paperwork I can. They're going to start asking me to actually do it instead of waiting for you to get back."

Thena gave him a smile as she gripped the handle of the car door, "serves you right."

He leaned down to look at her even as she got out, "just come back soon, please? And tell the big guy I want him back even sooner!"

Thena waved to him as he drove off again. She had to admit, Kingo didn't drive as much like a hellion as she had initially expected he would. And he had very helpfully given her a ride whenever she needed it during her suspension period. She turned, letting herself into the apartment with her key.

"Hey!"

"Hey," she smiled as she walked in, kicking off her shoes by the door and walking into the kitchen. "I'm getting a little too used to not having to wear heels."

"Well, it's not like you need 'em."

Thena rounded the corner, leaning against the wall as she admired the sight of Gilgamesh in the kitchen, on his feet, alive and well. Moderately well, "what's on?"

"Just some easy pasta," he smiled at her from the stove, stirring it with his left hand while his right remained in a sling. She gave him a look and he laughed outright, "relax, nothing strenuous involved."

He had taken a bullet to the leg, as well as endured a shattered clavicle that would have him in a sling for two months. He would still be on desk duty even by the time he was cleared to return to work.

Thena wandered closer, inhaling the delicious smelling sauce. He really was a surprisingly skilled home cook.

He looked over at her, the sizzling of pasta underscoring them. "Get fired?"

"No, but I think Minerva vouched for both of us," Thena sighed. She didn't love the idea of being indebted to her old comrade, but she had to admit that she owed her quite a lot, at this point. "They said that the suspension will be over next week, and after that they'll 'keep an eye on me', so... "

He nudged her with his good elbow gently, "I told you not to speak your mind. Just tell them you're very sorry for what you did and move on."

She raised a brow at him, "is that what you said at your probation hearing?"

"No, I told them that they were old bastards who could go to hell."

Thena laughed, partly from the joke, and partly because it probably wasn't that far from the truth, knowing Gil. For all the shit she got for not minding her manners around their superiors, Gil was a pretty honest guy, even in the worst scenarios.

Gil turned off the stove burner and turned to her, "you were pretty hurt, after that op. I couldn't just let that go."

She looked up at him too, her eyes drifting over the sling holding his arm and then down over the extensive bandaging he had received in the hospital. Even a week after being released, some of them still had to be maintained regularly. "How do you think I felt?"

He smiled, giving her shoulder a squeeze before moving to the cupboard with the bowls, "hey, we got through it--both of us."

Thena moved faster, bumping him out of the way with her hip to reach them before he could, "barely."

He smiled, letting her reach them for herself, instead moving to get them both water glasses. "But we did."

Thena set down the bowls beside the pan of pasta. She had apologised plenty already, and that was after Gil had awoken and told her he didn't have any clue what she was apologising for (and telling her to take it back, too). But seeing him more in the past week than she had in the past month still made her heart clench in her chest.

"Thena?"

She smiled, spooning out plenty for both of them (although that meant that his serving was double the size of hers). "Sit down, Gilgamesh."

He chuckled, obeying the order with a big grin on his face, "yes, ma'am."

She let him see her rolling her eyes at him as she came over with their lunch. She sat down, leaving her suit jacket on the back of her chair. She kept forgetting things at Gil's place, being here to help take care of him so often. She had reminded herself plenty of times already not to get so comfortable here.

"Hey."

Thena looked up, already smiling because Gil was. He twirled some pasta around his fork from his bowl and held up the bite for her. He was cute; she shook her head at him. "I have my own."

Gil shrugged, "you need more. This is why you're so skinny."

Thena's jaw dropped, although it made an opening for Gil to poke at her lip with the pasta fork. She huffed before biting down on it with a glare. "You are still my Agent, Gilgamesh."

"Sorry, sir," he laughed as he pulled the fork back. "Y'know, I thought you were kinda skinny for an Agent when you first recruited me, too."

"Oh, did you," Thena scoffed as she took a bite of her own lunch. "What else did you think?--since you're feeling candid?"

Gil shrugged, his shoulders still moving with his barely contained laughter, "that you weren't nearly as hard to read as everyone said you were."

She rolled her eyes again.

"And that you were kinda pretty, too."

She stopped in the middle of bringing her fork up to her lips. She looked over at him but he was shovelling in another bite, as if he hadn't even heard what he'd said.

"This is isn't bad for only having one hand," he commented as he took a massive bite for himself.

Thena just sighed and took another bite as well. It was moments like this that made her not want her suspension to actually end.

[shelbgrey]

Hi! Could I request some Alex Karev smut? If possible? :)

Dr. Feelgood(Alex Karev)

Paring: Alex Karev x Fem!Reader

Summary: after being forced to plan a 'prom' at the hospital for Webber's niece, Alex and the reader decided to go together. They had nothing better to do, but their desire can't go unnoticed.

Warrings: SMUT, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, pull-out method, sorta public sex?

MasterList ML2

“Everyone goes to the prom!” Webber shouts. “Everybody!”

And that's when we become party planners instead of surgeons, well we became that after the LVAD wire cutting incident, but that's not the point.

And when you have someone like me who never went to prom and someone like Alex who couldn't give a shit to help plane, nothing could get done quick enough.

Camille's friends just wouldn't shut up. Alex groaned and put his head on the table. The girls continued to ramble about colors and lights and Alex groaned louder like they were stabbing him.

“we could go all white” one the girls said, but then stopped when Alex made more noise of anguish.

“are you having a Seizure?” I asked, more annoyed with his groaning than the teenagers yapping.

“Will it get me out of here?” Alex asked, setting up. “Fine. Let's go with seizure”

Then after a while George got Bailey to help. She got every decoration down to a Tee and got everything ordered. I just didn't want to deal with this lovey-dovey crap. I just broke up with Derek Shepherd because I found out he was actually married, everything was just getting to me. Even a dying guy like Denny proposed to Izzie.

I could tell Alex had had enough of everything too. He blamed Izzie for our intern group's suspension and put on decoration duty, he was just pissed. I couldn't blame him, others might but I always saw a side of him no one else was. To be honest he was my person as Meredith would say… even if he looks ready to punch someone.

I let go of an unclosed balloon full of helium, making it fly towards Alex as it deflates. “Are you serious?!” He grabs the balloon. He was very agitated.

“Calm down, I'm just messing with ya” I told Alex.

“No! Don’t mess with me, have you seen these girls? These decorations! And now this!?”

I shrugged, already accepting our fate. I looked around as the hospital slowly turned into some prom nightmare. My high school prom was hell… If I had one, guy asked me and I ever really got the full experience.

“I really don’t want to be here. I can’t believe Webber forced us to do this because LVAD shit” Alex complained.

“No one wants to do this, but it's for the chief's niece” I said gently.

“Yeah, I know, but he forced the whole hospital staff to attend is stupid as hell”

I shrugged. I didn't really care about most things these last few months because of the Derek and Addison crap. I don't know what possessed me but it turned towards Alex. “you wanna go together tonight? need to be around friends” I don't know how I felt about Derek, but I wasn't ready to see him at his damn prom with Addison.

Alex turned to me, surprised. Like he hadn't expected me to say that. He thought about it for a moment and shrugged “Sure, why not?” he said with a smirk.

“Great,” I smiled.

--------(3rd pov)--------

The prom went off without a hitch. Y/n looked up at all the lights and decorations as her and Alex slowly swayed to the music.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is nice” Alex said softly as his hands stayed on her hips, moving to the music. He was enjoying every second of this, all because of her. And he felt like he was getting back at Derek for hurting her. He felt good just being with her, seeing her in a beautiful dress instead of those blue scrubs. Even the decorations weren't pissing him off anymore, just being there with her ment everything.

“Yeah…” I looked away from Alex to look at everything around us, all the lights and colors.

“what's up?” Alex asked, she looked back at him with a soft smile. “nothing… I Just never went to prom before”

“Really?” he was surprised, in his eyes y/n was beautiful and a pretty smart doctor. He assumed she probably had a ton of guys wanting her. And he thought Derek was a complete idiot for losing her.

She shook her head. “no one really wanted to ask me…”

“I would have…” He continued to sway to the music, not breaking eye contact with her. Alex looks into her eyes. She had the prettiest hazel eyes he ever saw and the more he looked the more he could see himself falling for her. He couldn’t help but keep looking, they were like pools of honey. It was a nice way to get his mind off of work and the LVAD wire cutting incident. His eyes were locked into hers. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

“I was one of those nerdy girls no guy was interested in…” she said softly.

He put his hand on her cheek. She was just so beautiful, he had never thought about her like this before. And now the whole idea of her seemed so new to him and it was making him like her more. “That’s ridiculous. Look how beautiful you are. I don’t know why guys did not ask you out… I don't know why shepherd was stupid enough to lose you”

Her heart pounded against her chest when he said that. She hid her burning cheeks and rested her head on his shoulder as he moved to the music. “I got bumped up a couple of grades because I was smart… I played D&D… I was the weird kid because I didn't want to go out and get drunk”

Alex couldn't believe what he was hearing. He playfully chuckles as they slowly danced around oh... “oh, you were one of those geeks,” he said playfully.

Y/n scoffed playfully, resting her head on his shoulder gently “playing D&D isn't the geekiest thing in the world…”

Alex couldn't help but smile at her reaction. He rubbed the small of her back as they danced. “I was on the wrestling team… Who am I to judge”

“Wow, a wrestler” she laughed softly and playfully into his shoulder. “yeah... I was in marching band, school newspaper... All that nerdy stuff”

“Marching band huh?” he teased her, he lifted their arms up and he slowly spun her around before bringing her back to his chest. “you were a band geek, who knew”

“who knew you could dance” she teased back.

He smirked at her, holding her hand and continued to dance with her with zero embarrassment. “Shut up” he said playfully.

“ya know… If we went to the same high school, I would have been proud to go to prom with you.” he had a serious look on his face now. He was not messing around anymore. His friends would have made fun of him but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t care.

Her heart fluttered as she smiled, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the hair at the neap of his neck. “I would have been proud to go out with you too... All of my geeky friends would have been terrified of you though” she joked softly as we swayed to the music

He smiled softly and wrapped an arm around her waist. The other hand is still resting on her lower back. He leaned in to nuzzle her neck slightly. “I was always the scary one.” he whispered. “But you’re not afraid of me now are you?”

She ran her fingers through his hair as he nuzzled her neck. “I never was”

He smiled against her skin and kissed it gently. “Good.” he whispered before pulling back to look at her. His eyes searching hers for something, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what though. There was just something about her that he hadn't seen before, it drew him in and made him want more.

Y/n smiled as she stared into his chocolate brown eyes. Deep down she always knew there was more to him than him just being a surgery hungry asshole intern that slept around with nurses.

“Would you believe me if I said I always had a thing for nerds like you?” he said in a playful tone, he wasn’t joking. He genuinely liked her intelligence. She was beautiful and smart and that's what Alex liked in a woman.

“I don't know,” she said in a playful tone. Alex lifted her arm up and gently spun her around then pulled her back to his chest.

He leaned in to nibble on her earlobe softly, they both continued to sway to the music so their conversation didn't look suspicious. “I’m serious.” he whispered before trailing kisses down her neck. He could feel her pulse racing under his lips.

Alex smirked against her blushing skin. He loved how responsive she was to him. He lifted his head slightly to look at her once more. His eyes searching hers. "Do you want me to stop?”

She looked him in the eyes and shook her head. “N-no…” she said softly.

Alex's smirk grew as he felt her hesitation turn into desire. He leaned in once more, his lips pressing against hers with a soft yet hungry kiss, making her heart pounded against her chest . His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss as her hand held his jaw.

The loud music masked the small moan that slipped past her lips as Alex's hands slid down her back, gripping her ass. Alex pulled her even closer, his tongue slipped into her mouth, dancing with hers in a heated duel. He could taste the sweetness of her lips and it only made him want more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, they were barley dancing now and the 'prom' was forgotten.

Alex groaned into the kiss, loving how responsive she was. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, making him hard against her body. He pressed her closer to him, rolling his hips in a small motion, making a small moan get caught in her throat. Y/n slowly pulled away from the kiss and rested her forehead against his, trying to catch her breath.

Alex closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he felt her against him. He wanted her so badly but he knew they couldn't do this here. “We should go somewhere else,” he murmured against her lips before leaning in to steal another kiss.

“Let's get outta here,” she said quietly.

Alex's hands never left her waist as he led her through the crowd, making their way towards an empty examination room. Once inside, he locked the door and pushed her against it, forcing a moan to escape past her. She tugged on his hair as his lips crashed into hers again, his tongue slipping past her lips as he devoured her mouth.

Alex's hands roamed up her thighs, hitching her dress higher. He could feel how wet she already was and it only made him harder. He slid his hand between their bodies, rubbing against her swollen clit through her underwear. “Fuck,”

“Alex” she moaned, her head falling back against the wall as his fingers danced around her most sensitive area.

Alex growled low in his throat, slipping a finger under the elastic of her panties to slowly push them down her thighs as he fell to his knees in front of her. He replaced his finger with his tongue, lapping at her folds and tasting her sweet nectar. She let out another moan, tugging at his hair and arching her hips off the wall.

Alex hummed against her folds, loving the way she responded to his touch. He suckled on her clit, flicking his tongue over it as he circled his finger around her entrance. He groaned when he felt how wet and swollen she was for him.

Her legs got wobbly and she arched her hips, moaning. “A-Alex…”

Alex kept sucking and flicking her clit, driving her wild with his expert tongue. He hummed against her, loving the way she squirmed underneath him. He placed his hand on her thighs, squeezing gently. "Shh...I got you, baby.”

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest as felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. “A-Alex, I'm c-close” she moaned as her head fell back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut.

Alex wanted her to come undone for him. He lifted up her leg and set It on his shoulder and sucked harder on her clit, swirling his tongue around it as he thrust his finger deeper into her wet heat. “Come for me,” He growled, not relenting until she did.

“Alex!” she moaned louder, tugging at his hair as she came undone on his tongue.

Alex hummed around her clit, enjoying the sweet taste of her as she came undone. He kept sucking and flicking until he felt her muscles start to relax. “Fuck, Angel” he groaned, pulling away slowly and kissing his way up her body as her fingers trailed down his body.

Alex kissed her deeply, she could taste herself on his lips. He pulled her closer, grinding against her as he grew harder. “I need you,” he whispered against her mouth. He quickly pulled the zipper of her dress down, making it pool to their feet. He lifted her up, pushing her onto the examination table.

“Take me” she grabbed his tie, pulling him between her legs. He slammed his lips against hers, the kiss was messy and rushed as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

Alex looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. He positioned himself at her entrance and slid in slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered against her lips before thrusting deeper.

She moaned, arching her hips against his as the pain quickly turned into pleasure. “oh, fuck”

Alex groaned, feeling her walls clenching around him. He started to move faster, his hips slapping against hers as he took her hard and fast. “That's it,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Shemoaned against his neck, digging her nails into his back. “A-Alex!” she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside her.

Alex cried out, feeling her tighten around him. He lost himself in the sensation, thrusting harder and faster as they became one. His hips slapped against hers in a rhythmic cadence that echoed through the room. “God, you're so fucking tight,”

She tugged at his hair. “Alex, I'm gonna cum!” she cried out desperately and tugged at his hair.

Alex groaned, feeling her inner walls pulsing around him. He slammed into her one last time, she cried out and bit his shoulder. He slammed into her one last time before pulling out, shooting his hot seed across her stomach and chest. “Fuck,” he panted.

Alex collapsed on top of her, their bodies sticky with sweat and each other's fluids. He nuzzled into her neck, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “That was... intense,” he murmured with a chuckle.

“A-amazing” she moaned breathlessly.

Alex grinned against her skin before slowly pulling out of her. He reached down and gently wiped some of his seed off her stomach with his tie, chuckling softly. “You're a mess,” he teased as he knelt down and picked up her jumbled up dress.

“It's your fault” she teased as Alex helped her step into her dress.

Alex laughed softly, his eyes trailing down her curves as he zipped the dress back up for her. “I suppose it is,” he agreed as he placed a kiss on her neck. “But I'd do it again in a heartbeat.” He smirked, pulling his shirt back over his shoulder, before he buttoned it back up he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alex pulled back and smiled back at her, his gaze softening as he studied her face. “You're beautiful,” he murmured before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. He savored the taste of her on his tongue, wishing this moment could last forever.

She pulled away, smirking. “who knew Alex Karev was such a softie”

He let out an airy chuckle. “only for you” he smirked, kissing her on the nose.

[isagrimorie]

[initial reactions] Criminal Minds Evolution 17x09 - Stars and Stripes

Hot damn. Criminal Minds writers are really delivering the goods, the last few episodes have been fantastic. The whole gang needed that breather episode to reset.

The Goldstar conspiracy extending and becoming bigger beast than the BAU can tame. And, apparently, Phil Coulson Director Madison was protecting the BAU the whole time.

If next season the BAU’s main enemy is AIDA/Frank Church, I won’t be surprised. also, okay, so Emily is just Unit Chief now, right? I suppose after her suspension the Director nixed her Section Chief job from her… which I wish we had a scene for because I know Emily didn’t want the job but still, I wish there was a scene.

I love the scenes with Jill Gideon again… and then her kiss… Is the show retiring David Rossi? Is this, a kiss before dying or just a kiss before retiring?

There must be a reason why the show brought on a ‘new’ BAU founder.

I know they’re already filming season 18, so I’m really excited what’s coming next. I’m not worried for Emily in that bomb scene, Paget is not leaving this show again. Joe Mantegna, on the other hand, if they cut his hours, it would make sense.

Speaking of, the moment the paramilitary dude told Emily she wasn’t allowed to enter, I knew she would. Because she would and it’s been established several episodes ago, being told not to do a thing only inspires Emily to do a thing.

It’s not smart but it is true to her character. She would charge regardless of danger to herself. So whatever will happen to Rossi, who she looks to as a kind of father figure, it would hit Emily hard.

Also: I love Emily’s subtle reaction to Fucking Brian! Who knew her nuisance neighbor would cause her so much grief!

Anyway, the kids on this show and Jade, especially really sold the tragedy of the whole thing. I love how they’re ending episodes with such high key emotions, and we only really get there because we were able to see these characters for several episodes.

As for Voit, as charming as Zach Gilford is, I don’t really want to see him again. The BAU needs a win against him. I hope next episode is the last we see of him.

I… have a feeling that the season finale the BAU might be disbanded because the Northstar/BAU connection is going to leak and the BAU will have to disband or reassigned in order to save the Bureau.

[silverghcst]

❝ leave it alone. you are out of your depth. ❞  

Prompt - @iknowwhataradiois

The cracks within Raccoon City were already beginning to appear, paper thin and yet sharp all the same. A looming threat hanging above the clouds, threatening to thunder and shatter the glass. Everyone had just about cleared out for the night, Leon one of the only exceptions, finishing up some last minute reports before running to deliver them to the chief. Except, the chief was preoccupied, voices carrying down the stairwell he had been climbing. Heated shouts bounced off of wood walls and high vaulted ceilings. Umbrella, the Arklay Mountains, suspension, wrapped up in neat little bows, tying a question to each end.  

Firm intent to sweep all of it under the rug, to never have the public hear a word of it. Take time off. It sends his mind reeling. Leon, even with his brand new badge and uniform, the rookie in training, had his eyes rudely opened to how amiss the police station had become. There’s the slam of a door, hurried steps clicking against marble, and he sees her, one of the S.T.A.R.S officers, Jill Valentine.  

He had to be fast to catch up to her, even faster to explain himself, only to be told to stay out of it. He was out of his depth. And she was right, with only having a week of experience to his name. A wolf in sheep’s clothing was implied to lurk within the herd. Appearing more as a shepherd, as the guiding light for the city, the cure for the disease. If what he overheard was the truth, how could he ever hope to fight against that?  

But it just wasn’t in him to leave it alone.

“I can’t do that. I’m not going to just walk away and pretend I didn’t hear anything,” Staying firm, not backing down from the clear warning, from an officer who knew more than him, “I didn’t mean to pry, but I heard enough of your conversation with the chief. If you could even call it that. It... Struck me the wrong way, of how dismissive he was of your case.” 

There was more to this story, something much bigger than the both of them waiting to strike from the shadows. Eyes dart around the near empty station, suddenly all too aware of anyone who could be listening, as his voice lowers considerably for her ears alone. 

“I want to know what the hell is going on around here, why he shut you down like that, why the incident in the Arklay Mountains is being buried.” 

“I just... I just want to help.” 

[causewhywouldnti]

My thoughts on season 25 of svu and season 4 of OC:

25x01, I forgot how annoying commercials are, when you watch an episode live. There are some choices here… like what’s up with the blinding light at the end of the tunnel? Tiny Cast. So Benson is just supposed to know when someone is being kidnapped? Please tell me that is not a Standard we are setting up here. So that detective is definitely joining the squad, right?!? We do voiceovers now? So the case will be resolved at the end of the season…

OC 4x01, Stabler called her!!! (Gotta take the little wins, because I doubt that there will be any big ones) Stabler has no survival instinct, but at least Bell is looking out for him. I really don’t want Reyes and Jet to happen. Dude is still married, right?!? That was the softest look from Stabler when he saw Benson on TV.

25x02, I think it's really weird that Benson wears the Maddie Bracelet. On this whole episode: Seriously?!?

OC 4x02, Warner! That hug was so sweet. Stabler with the Baby. I like the Stabler brothers.

25x03, at least Liv is getting therapy. And she held the compass, crumbs that almost make up for a boring episode.

OC 4x03, the Final scene with the Stabler brothers was really sweet.

25x04, well we at least got an Elliot mention. I think this was the best episode of the season so far, which isn't a high bar… so, how does it work with a captain not working as a captain on another force?

OC 4x04, I really, really like OC this season, from the case and overall story, to the Stabler family. To reiterate, I love the Stabler brothers! Lizzie is still the kid that gets no line and no attention, justice for Lizzie. I'm sorry, but that salad has absolutely no dressing on it, no wonder the witness‘ daughter doesn't want to eat it. Stabler is totally gonna blame himself, for whatever is about to happen… that suspension is freaking stupid!

25x05, this Maddie plot line is so weird. At least now we can move on…

OC 4x05, barely into the episode and I already like it more than SVU, I mean we get a call from Benson! No, Elliot does not consider him a part of the team… Jennifer Ehle!!! The team has Stabler’s back! Their disappointment when he tells them not to follow him was funny.

OC 4x06, I’m starting to like Chief Bonner. Not sure how I feel about Stabler burning his necklace. There are a lot of instances of people comparing Elliot to his father this season, I want to know what this leads to.

25x07, I liked the throwback to 911.

OC 4x07, Stabler has warmed up to Vargas so much, he is already taking his clothes. I like the subtle comedy in OC, it’s either intentional or due to me watching this at an unreasonable hour. Stabler really got injured again, this brings back memories. Poor Chief Bonner having to kill her own brother. Cragen! Also call back to the brotherhood. And again, poor Chief Bonner. But man, OC is soooo good this season!

OC 4x08, Cragen! Cragen and Elliot make a great team. “Heart attack?” “I thought it worked” Lol. Bell out here fighting for Stabler, and I am here for it! Must be weird to see, how they’re gonna make it look like you killed yourself, good on Bonner to save herself. After this arc is over, I’d like a spin-off with Bonner. Bonner is a badass!! Just handing out guns. He dead? I did not expect them all to be dead, like expected one to be, but not all of them. Bonner is gonna need a LOT of therapy after this! That was a sweet ending to a great story arc.

25x09, you know what I’d like Benson to do with Noah starting to ask questions about her job? Call Stabler. I’m sure he must have some experience with kids asking those questions. Velasco looked so lost, when Benson told him he had to come with her.

OC 4x09, Elliot refusing to break and enter is kinda funny. The Stabler bros are sooo good! And then Elliot breaks and enters… the ending of the intervention scene was funny, “could have been worse”. Did we finally find out what Elliot’s rank in the marines was?!? Stabler barely arrived and is already beating people up. Jet and Reyes undercover as travel influencers is something I didn't know I needed! Oh Elliot…

25x10, I just want to never hear about Maddie again.

OC 4x10, would have liked Bashir to stay. The way Stabler told the team about Bashir was heartbreaking but so well done. We actually get images of what Stabler went through in the Marines! Did I mention I love this show?!? Stabler pulling up his zipper after “making out” with the ATF girl was funny. I'm starting to really like Vargas. If Joe is responsible for Bashirs death, I don't think Stabler will get over that anytime soon.

OC 4x11, kinda forgot to write anything down. But the episode was good! Especially Stabler saving the FTA agent!

OC 4x12, the team’s look when Jet and Reyes tried to hide arriving together was on point. The Stabler bros kidnapping Joe Jr was fun. Man, Stabler is such a softie! Vargas looks sooo excited being in the field. Randall making Eliott pay for the caretaker is a moment of levity I needed after that server scene. Stabler gonna have to renovate again…

25x13, seriously?!? She gave up the compass?!?? Well, we at least got a phone call…

OC 25x13, Eli Jr really coming after his father. Good on Randall to refuse to tell Elliot the news. I did not expect the FTA agent to go for Vargas. Stabler and Jet are sweet and funny together (in a very non-ship way). Joe is in way over his head. Of course Elliot just new about the pregnancy, dude has enough experience with that.

SVU was just a let-down this season… I wasn't a fan of the Maddie storyline, and didn't much care for any of the other stories. I think the ending of the last season set it (this season) up for a very different story than the one we actually got. Considering it was a landmark season, there wasn't really anything to show for it (except Maria). Here's hope for a BIG improvement next season! (It kinda has to because we can't even watch it for the compass anymore…) OC on the other hand has been on fire! I was really looking forward to each episode. And they actually show the family and relationships of their character, which is something SVU is definitely lacking. I wasn't sure about Vargas at the beginning, but I started to really like him. One thing I will give SVU over OC: I preferred the phone call at the end of the finale over the Cemetery.

Favorite Episodes: the whole season of OC

Favorite Lines:

“What are you doing?” “Being unreliable.” Bell and Stabler OC 4x02 (in regard to the AI meeting)

"Until the age of 25, the male brain is as useful as an electrified meatball." Bruno, 25x04

“Everyone is fighting for you, except you” Cragen to Stabler OC 4x08

“Go peel potatoes.” Stabler OC 4x10

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.” “Close, it was your brother” - Joe Jr. and Randall OC 4x12

“What am I, ten?” “In my mind, you are.” - Joe Jr. and Stabler, that is such an older sibling thing to say OC 4x12

[ailtrahq]

Amid the implementation struggles of crypto project Worldcoin in Kenya, Worldcoin CEO Alex Blania has been accused by the Kenyan lawmakers of data fraud saying the project’s arrival to Kenya looks like “a gang of criminals who are coming to harvest data from young people.” Worldcoin Faces Scrutinization From Kenyan Lawmakers Kenyan lawmakers and authorities continue to scrutinize the controversial Worldcoin project in the country, resulting in Worldcoin CEO Alex Blania having to answer to lawmakers on Wednesday, September 6, 2023. Blania’s questioning comes amidst the suspension of Worldcoin activities in the country by the Kenyan government on August 2, 2023. The CEO had to appear before the Kenyan parliamentary ad hoc committee, a 17-member committee set up by the Kenyan government to investigate the operations of the American-based Cryptocurrency firm Worldcoin, to respond to allegations of illegal operations and data mining in the country. The project sparked concerns in the country when the Kenyan authorities discovered that it was not officially registered and over 350,000 Kenyans had signed up for Worldcoin and scanned their eyeballs with the project in exchange for free $49 worth of WLD tokens valued 7000 Kenyan shillings.  However, CEO Alex Blania responded to these allegations claiming that the project has been connected with the Kenyan’s Office of the Data Commissioner Immaculate Kassait since April 2022, having the firm registered as a data controller, not a limited company. In addition, he stated that the firm was under no obligation to get registered under Kenyan laws, so the firm had to work with local partners who had that obligation. Blania further defended the project saying Worldcoin is solving a critical challenge on the internet: proof-of-personhood and that the project had abided by all the country’s data and registration requirements. “We wish to emphasize the Worldcoin project’s long-term commitment to Kenya. Our commitment to the people of Kenya is genuine, and we have at all times endeavored to operate honestly, compliantly, and above all, transparently,” Blania opined. “All the personal and biometric data collected in Kenya is securely stored on servers either in the US, Italy, Germany, Poland, or South Africa.” Worldcoin’s chief legal officer Thomas Scott also told the Kenyan parliamentary ad hoc committee that Worldcoin was not mining data from Kenyans for malicious activities after the committee implied that worldcoin was duping Kenyans into surrendering critical identifying Information without guarantees on the use and Security of the data collected. However, Kenya’s regulator has given the firm a one-year ban, and the company only be allowed to operate again once it undergoes a Security audit, allows the government access to the collected data, registers with the Business Registration Services (BRS), and establishes a local representative. WLD token Price falls to $1.04 | Source: WLDUSDT on Tradingview.com Worldcoin’s Iris Scans Sparked Health Risk Fears As is widely known, Worldcoin uses iris-scanning orbs to capture and verify an individual’s unique biometric data. However, earlier this month, Kenya’s health Secretary Susan Nakhumicha Wafula warned that Kenyans who took part in iris scans for tokens are potentially exposed to health Risks. Susan told her fellow lawmakers that initial inquiries found the company’s iris scanning technology potentially exposed hundreds of thousands of Kenyans to health Risks.  She further added that there may be Kenyans out there already experiencing different complications or changes in their bodies after undergoing the scan. Therefore, she recommends that individuals seek medical help if they develop any abnormal conditions. Following the revelation, one X user stated that he was shocked to hear that Kenyans who took part in the iris scans are experiencing health problems because he was scanned in October last year and he experienced zero health issues. I

am shocked to hear that Kenyans who had their eyeballs scanned by Worldcoin are experiencing health problems. As someone who was scanned in October last year, I have no idea what that woman is talking about. I thought she would say that next grant should at least be 10 coins! — Ja Loka (@_fels1) September 1, 2023 Worldcoin is a Cryptocurrency project that aims to create a network of users who verify their humanness and proof of personhood to eradicate Bots or AI Algorithms to build the world’s largest human identity and financial network. The project was founded by ChatGPT’s founders Sam Altman and Alex Blania.

[maybege]

... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

*

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

*

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

*

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

*

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

[sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter]

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

--

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

--

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

--

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

--

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

--

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

--

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

--

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

--

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

--

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

--

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

--

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

[clonewarsarchives]

CLOAK OF DARKNESS (#103, SEP 2008)

The Clone Wars animated feature—and the television series to follow—provides new insight into Anakin’s heroics and the wartime abilities of the Jedi generals and their clone soldiers. Fifteen-year animation veteran Henry Gilroy is a chief writer of the new tales. Here, he tells Insider how The Clone Wars is different from other animated series, how many of the story ideas came from George Lucas, and which member of the Jedi Council is going to be your new favorite.  Words: Dan Wallace

Insider: What can fans expect from the movie and series? Having already seen glimpses of The Clone Wars in Revenge of the Sith and the final, treacherous way that Darth Sidious brought an end to that conflict, how do you handle writing characters with predestined fates?

Henry Gilroy: Have you ever missed an episode of your favorite serialized TV show and refused to watch the 411 current episode until you’ve seen the one you missed? We’re going to see the reasons why Anakin misses Padme so much in Episode III. We’re going to see why Grievous hates Jedi so much. We’re going to see why the Jedi are so war weary and determined to end the fighting.

In Episode I, Qui-Gon Jinn told Padme, “I can’t fight a war for you.” In Episode II, Mace Windu says, “We are keepers of the peace, not soldiers.” Dave [Filoni, director of the movie and supervising director of the series] and I wanted this theme to permeate everything, because while the Jedi are forced into the role of military generals and must command clone armies, they are doing something that is opposed to their ideals. It really set the stage for interesting stories that have relevance today about how easy it is to be drawn into wars that maybe we shouldn’t [be].

How did you come to be writing for Star Wars: The Clone Wars?

Back in April 2005, I met with producer Catherine Winder. I brought her a one page pitch of what The Clone Wars could be with a logline that read, “Star Wars meets Band of Brothers.” I don’t think anyone ever saw my pitch, but I think she was impressed that I knew the universe well enough to have something prepared. I also had written several Star Wars comics [The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones] as well as having a decade of experience on various animated action-adventure series [Batman, Justice League] that made me a good candidate. I think another big reason I got the job is that I love to collaborate with other creative people, and being able to do that well is a necessity on a project like this. After weeks of writhing in agony and suspense as Catherine met with other writers, I got the thrilling news that I was ‘the chosen one’ and here I am three years later.

How did The Clone Wars go from script to finished animation?

The initial 15 or so story ideas were generated by myself and [director] Dave Filoni. We’d develop the stories into one- or two-page premises, then meet with George Lucas and he would input his ideas. Once George liked a story, we’d go through the outline process to figure out the specific character and plot arcs, and then we’d turn that into a script. Once we were happy, we’d send that back to George for his input. When George liked it, the script went final and the story would go into production, which means characters, ships, and locations are designed by our terrific design team. Then the script is pre-visualized, or storyboarded, by our awesome story team.

When the script goes final, it’s not really ‘final.’ The final script would be the end of the writing process on 95 per cent of animated television series. But at Lucasfilm, George uses movie-like pre-visualization and editorial stages as a big part of the writing process. The great thing about working this way is that you can really refine the story visually, adding and subtracting story elements to build drama and tension. Even though The Clone Wars started as made for television, George wanted a process where he could be involved creatively at every step. So making The Clone Wars series is more like making an animated feature except that every single episode is done this way! As Dave and I came from TV, George would regularly remind us, “We’re not making television here. We’re making cinema.” And that’s why it wasn’t really a surprise when he decided to release The Clone Wars first as a full-fledged animated feature.

It sounds like George Lucas was involved every step of the way.

George is the Alpha and the Omega, and is involved in the story from beginning to end. On The Clone Wars, that means from the initial story idea until the final sound mix. I knew from the moment I got the job that The Clone Wars was going to be George’s show. My job was to execute his vision and I have always tried my best to do that.

Who are the other writers involved?

My chief collaborators were Dave Filoni and George Lucas. Every story idea I had, Dave would hear first and once we got it to a place we liked, we would submit it to George who would bring his own magic. After about the first batch of stories, George got so excited about the show, he started writing his own story outlines! He’d send them over and we’d craft them into scripts. As time went on, George became more involved and wrote more stories and just about every story now comes from ‘The Maker’ himself.

The primary freelance writer I worked with was prolific animation veteran Steven Melching, who was invaluable because he is a great talent and really knows the Star Wars universe well. Then about a year into the project, I got some much needed help at Skywalker Ranch in writer Scott Murphy, who brought his experience as a live action TV story editor to the production for a few months. A couple of other writers I’d like to mention who did solid work on the series were George Krstic, Paul Dini, and Katie Lucas. [The screenwriting credits for the movie go to Gilroy, Melching, and Murphy.]

Are there any characters from the prequels you really wanted to explore?

I really enjoyed writing Obi-Wan Kenobi. Early on, I pushed for a story that gave us a little window into Obi-Wan’s past that added a new dimension to him. I think it really deepens this character that we already love. I had a personal goal to realize every member of the Jedi Council on the screen as a memorable personality that we would want to see again and again. I want to credit Lucas Licensing and the novels and comics creators for laying the groundwork for those characters, which we tried to stay true to. As for original characters in the series, I really enjoyed working with George and Dave to develop Anakin’s relationship with his Padawan, Ahsoka. Their snappy big brother/little sister interaction was a blast to write and I have high hopes for Ahsoka as a character who will soften the heart of even the most skeptical Star Wars fan. Jedi Master Plo Koon was the biggest challenge for me. I have to give all credit to Dave Filoni for really defining his voice. I think Plo is going to be an enduring favorite of fans for a long time.

So how readily did you and Dave Filoni collaborate?

In the early days of the studio, somebody created the nickname “Filroy Gilroni” because we were always together. In the very beginning of development, Dave and I used to meet at this coffee shop in Burbank almost every day and talk Star Wars, and we still talk Star Wars every day. We discuss the films, novels, comics and the stories we are developing and how to execute them thematically and visually, and how the characters interact and grow. Did I mention that the coffee shop is right next door to a Toys “R” Us? After our story meetings we’d go nerd out and see what latest Star Wars goodies were available. Anyway, it’s always been a lot of creative give and take, where I might pitch Dave an idea for a character or a story and the next day he’d email me this amazing concept painting for it. Or he would pitch me a one sentence idea for a story and I’d write it into a two page premise—Plo Koon, hint, hint.

Once I get the stories onto paper as premises, outlines, and scripts, Dave reads everything and his collaboration helps me get it ready for George, as well as production. Because Dave sits in editorial so much with George, he knows better than anyone what George wants. As time went on, George gave us boundaries and then took them away. He challenged us all the time to make it better than just good. One of his favorite quotes as he would finish our meetings was, “Dare to be great!”

We’re excited about the movie, but can you also give us any hints about episodes from the series?

I always tried to give the episodes titles that sounded like they came from the pulpy adventure sci-fi serials of the 1930s that inspired George. Here’s a few that don’t give anything away: “Rising Malevolence,” “Cloak of Darkness,” “Lair of Grievous,” “Downfall of a Droid,” and “Ambush in the Outer Rim.”

Keeping the right tone is critical to having something feel like Star Wars. How do you do that without getting bogged down in formula?

As far as the kind of stories we could tell, George told us that Star Wars could be a forum for any kind of tale. So even though the movie and series are set against the backdrop of The Clone Wars, there are dramas, romances, mysteries, horrors, comedies, and more. The biggest challenge was making the universe feel as large as it is in the existing Star Wars movies within the limitations of an animated movie and TV series, meaning we couldn’t go to three new planets every episode or have 10 new characters. We tried to include new characters in every single episode, extremely difficult on a weekly CG animated TV show. There is the time limitation—the original attack on the Death Star took 20 minutes of screen time, but our entire episodes are only 22 minutes, so it was great to be able to start with a full feature-length movie. It’s always a great challenge to squeeze in all the stuff we love about Star Wars: exotic planets and aliens, epic space battles, exciting lightsaber duels, plus the solid character development that brings it all together into our limited screen time.

How do you capture the voices of characters that fans know inside and out from watching the movies?

I was working directly with George and he created these characters. No one knows them better. The fun part for me was putting the characters we know from the live-action movies in new situations to explore how they would behave. I think Dave and I got it right most of the time, then George would come in and add bits of action, dialogue, and humor that only he can to give it that classic Star Wars feeling.

WHO’S HENRY?

As well as scripting the Dark Horse comic-book adaptations of The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, writer Henry Gilroy has had plenty of experience writing for animated TV series and movies made for DVD release. Here’s a selection of his pre-The Clone Wars credits:

Transformers: Animated (2008)

Justice League (2004)

Lilo & Stitch: The Series (2003)

Bionicle: Mask of Light (2003)

Atlantis: Milo’s Return (2005)

Timon and Pumba (1995)

The Tick (1994)

Batman (1992)

WRITER’S ROOM

What have the other writers on The Clone Wars done?

Steven Melching

Legion of Super Heroes (2008)

The Batman (2004-05)

Scott Murphy

Flash Gordon (2007)

Angel (2001-02) [writer & story editor]

The Nightmare Room (2001)

[i-am-distressed]

RIDE ALONG: Part 1

Prologue-Part 2

Warnings: none

You thanked the officer that held the door open for you, nodding to one you recognized as ‘Nanami’ as you made your way to your destination, Captain Yaga’s office. When you committed the misdemeanor, you were 3 days away from starting your first day as a rookie for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. When you punched your ex, a few of the higher ups deemed your actions as ‘inappropriate’ and ‘out of line’, and they put your admission into the unit on ‘pause’ while they figured out what to do with you, but they weren’t the ones who decided what would happen to you.

It was the man who would hopefully be your new boss, Masamichi Yaga. The Chief, who apparently trained Yaga first hand, decided whatever he decides will be best, so this is your one shot to get this right. The other new recruits were starting today, so they put you on a ‘3 day probation to think about what you did’. You walked up the flight of stairs, letting your eyes wander as you did. The station was in nice condition. It had been remodeled a few years ago, so it was really sleek and new looking. It had an open concept layout, and most every room had plenty of windows in it, keeping the station open and light. It was much different from the 30+ year old academy you had spent that past 5 months training in, where every time you stepped into daylight your eyes spent a good 5 minutes adjusting to seeing an adequate amount of light. Already, this was a promising change, you just needed to not screw this up any worse than you already did.

You got to the top of the stairs and proceeded down the hallway the dispatcher you ran into had directed you to, Miwa? She was nice, much better than the other 2 girls who were sitting at their desks throwing balled up pieces of paper into a far off trash can. Walking down the hallway you found the second floor was much more closed off and professional than the first. It had more closed doors and private offices, not surprising since you saw a few doors with ‘Sergeant’ and ‘Lieutenant’ on them. You got to the end and stopped when you found the door that had ‘Captain Masamichi Yaga’.

You stopped taking a deep breath before you squared your shoulders and knocked. Just before you did, you heard the captain talking to someone, you didn’t recognize the voice, but it was clear it belonged to a man. “Come in.” You turned the knob before stepping in the door. “Go ahead and close the door, please have a seat.” Yaga motioned over to the second chair he had sitting in front of his desk, diagonal to the chair the unknown man was sitting in. You nodded as you closed the door, making your way to sit in the chair, keeping a professional posture and a steadfast expression.

“I don’t believe either of you have met before, no?” You looked over at the man. He had pinkish hair with a dark undercut, his eyes were dark red and sharp, even with how lazy his gaze seemed, it was intense. You could feel his eyes wandering you, not in a creepy perverted way, but in a scrutinizing judging way. And to be honest, you couldn’t tell which one would tick you off more. Beyond having hair that was definitely too long to be within regulation, he was also covered in tattoos. Maybe he was a C.I? “Never seen her in my life, can I go?”

Your eyebrow raised as you turned back to look at the captain, who had an almost visible tick mark appearing on his forehead. “No.” Sighing the man leaned back in the chair, crossing his notably muscular arms over his chest. You couldn’t tell since he was sitting down, but you guessed he was in the 6’0 range, probably taller. He was very fit, that much was for sure. And he definitely was no professional, that much was also for sure. Whereas you came in wearing a very nicely fitting pair of slacks and a silk button up, he came in wearing a tight white t-shirt and dark wash jeans, he was wearing what looked like a black flannel over his shirt, it being left open and the sleeves rolled up. It definitely didn’t meet the uniform standards, but it didn’t exactly look bad either.

Yaga cleared his throat and you directed your attention back to him. “I’m sure you’re aware of the possible consequences of your actions, yes? Your record shows good grades, good conduct, and overall a spotless record. Nevertheless, what you did could get you in serious trouble a few years down the line, you’re lucky he didn’t decide to press any charges. I should tell you to go find another career, since it’s clear you don’t process emotions well.” You looked down at that, your arms had crossed over your chest and you held your tongue, he had a point.

“But, My wife happened to be there, and when I confided in her on what to do about the situation, she told me if I treasure my marriage I should show you some mercy. Our daughter was cheated on, so I can’t say I hate what you did. In light of that, a punishment is still in order,” He paused to lean on his elbows, gaze serious, and honestly intimidating as he stayed quiet for a moment.

"For the next 3 months, You, Y/n L/n will be doing a sort of probationary trial with this man sitting in front of me." The man's head shot up, his crimson eyes wide open as his face contorted into a scowl. "Yeah, no, she won't be. I don't take passengers." Yaga sat up, his glasses casting a menacing gleam, "If you'd like to keep your job, Corporal, you will be." The ‘corporal’ in question ‘tsk’d’ before sinking back into the leather chair, leg crossing lazily over the other as his hand gripped his bicep. He was muscular alright…

”Ms. L/n, this is Corporal Ryomen Sukuna, he’s just recently been taken off of suspension and is in a probationary period of his own. If at the end of these 3 months the two of you are deemed fit for duty, you will proceed on with your careers with no problem.” You looked over at the man, his red eyes finding your e/c ones as he raised an eyebrow, your own narrowing slightly at him before you smartly returned your gaze towards Yaga. “Do I make myself clear?” You both responded with ‘yes sir’ and he dismissed you.

You both stood from the chairs, him grabbing the badge that was slid over the desk while you made your way to the door. “Your first day is tomorrow, don’t be late,” Yaga turned to Sukuna, “I hope you understand, it doesn’t matter how good of a cop you are, this is your last chance, mess this up and you're done. Please cooperate.” Your eyebrows raised at that before you felt yourself cringe, great, the ‘probation officer’ they assigned you was some kind of delinquent? You opened the door and stepped out, Sukuna passing by you without a word, going his own way as you sighed, shutting the door and making your way back out of the station.

On your way to the front desk to sign out, you heard your name being called. “HEY! Y/N!” You stopped and turned, finding two of the new recruits who had graduated with you, Yuji Itadori and Megumi Fushiguro. They were nice, and good at what they did, so you were happy when you heard they’d be going to the same unit as you. You watched as Fushiguro smacked Itadori upside the head, “We’re inside, idiot.”

Your lip tugged up at that, watching as Itadori rubbed his head with a pout before turning to you, giving you one of his smiles. “Anyway, what did the Captain say? Are you gonna be able to continue with us?” You nodded as a small smile made its way to your face, “With conditions, yes.” Fushiguro nodded as Itadori gave you a thumbs up and ‘nice!’, “You’re lucky you didn’t get cut, the higher ups can be really cut throat when they want to be, i’d watch my back.” You nodded at Fushiguro, remembering the stories your dad had told you about people being let go for trivial things, although back then it was mostly family politics.

Fushiguro was from the Zen’in family, who was known for being exemplary cops, and had a strong presence in the station. From what you knew, there were at least 5 of them in this unit alone. “I will, they’re letting me join, but for 3 months i’ll be doing a probationary trial with one of the corporals.” Fushiguro nodded at that, Itadori’s eyes lighting up, “Which one did you get? We get assigned our T.O’s (training officers) tomorrow.” You felt your eye twitch as you thought back to the disrespectful and presumably problematic individual you had just met.

“Ryomen Sukuna. From what I know he just got back from suspension, so this is a punishment for him too.” Your eyes narrowed in confusion when Itadori’s widened in shock, “wAIT!? Does he have hair like mine?” You nodded, “Tattoos??” You nodded again, “Really bad attitude and terrible social skills-” “I think she gets it, what’s your point Itadori?” You almost laughed at how tired Fushiguro looked, despite being friends all throughout high school, and going to the academy together.

“Dude...her probation officer is my cousin Ryomen.” You watched as Fushiguro’s eyes now widened, his lips fighting a smile as he turned around, grabbing the collar of Itadori’s uniform as he dragged him off with a wave, “Good luck then, you’re gonna need it!” Your mouth opened to reply before you decided against it, just shaking your head and finally making your way to the front desk. ‘Ryomen Sukuna...I’ll ask dad about him later, I swear i’ve heard it before..’

**20 minutes ago in Yaga’s office before you arrived**

“Corporal, please have a seat.” Sukuna walked in, sitting down on the chair and bringing his elbows up on the arm rests, hands clasping together in front of his mouth. Sukuna had been on a 2 month suspension after yet another misdemeanor. The only reason he hasn’t been fired is because he’s truly good at what he does, and the department really doesn’t want to let him go but…”You’re aware of how we handle discipline in this department. So tell me how it is you’ve been dealt 7 out of the 8 disciplinary actions and you still have yet to change?”

The department had a sort of system for disciplining it’s cops. 1. A verbal warning (which Sukuna had ignored), 2. A written warning (Sukuna had thrown away), 3. Performance Improvement Plan (He had on multiple occasions ditched his supervising adviser), 4. Temporary Pay cut (He practically lived at the station, it didn’t phase him much), 5. Loss of privileges (see #4), 6. Suspension (recently completed), 7. Demotion (...up until 2 months ago it was Sergeant Ryomen Sukuna…) and 8. Termination. He could handle everything else but...termination meant he was done, and he was anything but.

“I told you captain, it’s not me who needs to change, the departments way too stuck up.” Yaga took a breath before he sighed, leaning back in his swivel chair, “I know the higher ups don’t always act accordingly, but they’re still your higher ups, and I can only defend your job beyond so many offenses.” Sukuna glared at the ground as his arms crossed against his broad chest. *Knock knock* “Come in”

TAGLIST: @alohablue 💙

[seijorhi]

asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Part 3

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: panic attack

Words: 1.5k

Summary: to everyone she knew, [y/n] was a peasant, destined to be a servant just like her parents. To Zuko, however, she was his best friend. After losing his agni kai and being exiled, [y/n] was devastated. She thought she would never see him again. Three years later, she almost wished he never came back.

A/N: wasn’t quite sure how to write this part, and I’m not sure how I feel about it...but I’m just gonna post it anyway :)

Part 2 <- Part 3 -> Part 4

Series | Masterlist

This dark, dusty hallway seems to never end. It feels like I've been wandering for hours, yet it feels like no time has passed. It feels familiar, like a fragment of a memory, yet it feels fabricated. It feels like a lot of things, but I feel…nothing. It's so surreal, yet so natural.

I watch myself from above. My body is floating, light as a feather. Am I spirit? No. How do I know? I don't. But I can see myself right there, standing on the floor next to my friend. I think it's him. His face is a blur, but I can see just enough to be sure.

We're talking. Nothing being said makes sense, yet it all makes sense. He's getting closer to me. Now I feel something, an urge, a whim. He's leaning in, closer and closer, and…

[Y/n]’s eyes fluttered open. She was curled up under the covers of one of the guest room beds. It must have been late morning, because the sun was peaking brightly between the curtains.

For a second, everything was okay. Then, she frowned upon realizing what just happened. Kissing Zuko, what a dream. Really, it could never be a reality. Last night, when they got to the beach, him and Mai made up and got back together. They even kissed right in front of [y/n]. It hurt to watch.

Fortunately for her, they were returning home today. [Y/n] could forget about this trip and go back to living her normal, boring life, something she never thought she would miss. As she packed her bag, she once again thought of that moment from last night. The memory was burned into her brain. No matter how hard she tried to push it away, it kept coming back. And every time, she wondered if what she saw was real. She sure wished it was.

Even if he really did, he could’ve been acting in the heat of the moment. He probably would’ve regretted it afterward. Yeah...why would he kiss his best friend? And a commoner at that? And while he clearly still has feelings for Mai? That would be ridiculous.

[One week later]

Knock, knock, knock.

[Y/n] propped herself up on her elbows and wiped her groggy eyes. It wasn’t unusual to have visitors—her family and neighbors often did favors for each other—but it was rather early in the day for one.

“Just a second!” [Y/n] called out. She tossed the covers aside, quickly threw on a robe and put her hair up in a messy bun.

Damn, I was really hoping to sleep in today. I hope it’s not someone important.

She opened the door.

“Hello, [y/n]!” A teenaged boy in a regal tunic with a scar on his face stood before her. He smiled brightly and waved his hand. [Y/n] felt her heart skip a beat.

“Oh! Um, hi, Zuko,” she replied.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” Zuko chirped, “I thought we could hang out today, if you want. Your mom told me you have the day off.”

He wants to spend time with me? Just us? [Y/n] was delighted by the opportunity. Then, reality set in: Zuko was still dating Mai and only saw her as a friend. She couldn’t hold his hand, she couldn’t cuddle with him, she couldn’t kiss him, she couldn’t be with him the way she wanted. Clearly, [y/n] hadn't gotten over her crush. If she was going to continue being his friend, she would need to do so. She needed to give herself space.

“Um, I'd like to," [y/n] said slowly, "but...I don’t feel well today.” She placed a hand on her stomach to feign illness. The fact that she had just rolled out of bed helped her cause.

Zuko’s cheerful face morphed to one of sadness. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Is there anything you need? I could bring you medicine or food.”

[Y/n] shook her head. “No, thanks. I have everything I need.”

“How about I brew you some tea?”

“Er, no, it’s fine. I just need rest.” She scratched the back of her neck nervously.

“Okay. Well, I hope you feel better,” Zuko said earnestly.

“Thanks. Maybe another time,” [y/n] said.

“Yeah.” He trailed off, nodding slowly as he backed away from her apartment. They said their goodbyes and waved to each other. [Y/n] closed the door and leaned against it. She dropped her head into her hands. Already, she regretted her decision. She wanted nothing more than to be with Zuko, even though she knew it would cause her heart to ache.

Why do I have to have a crush on him? Why can't I go back to liking him as a friend? I don't want these feelings. I just want our friendship, I just want what we had three years ago. I don't even know if I can be his friend anymore. It's ruining us. I just lied to him too. It was a stupid lie, but still, what kind of friend does that? Why couldn't I just say no? I’m so pathetic.

A few days had passed since then. Zuko didn't reach out to [y/n], and she didn't reach out to him. Once again, she was back to her day-to-day routine of things…somewhat. There was one day when all the residents on the main land had to be evacuated. [Y/n]'s mother said it was because Firelord Ozai was preparing for an attack during an eclipse, which would weaken our people.

When they returned, they saw the damage. The city's harbor had taken a serious beating, but the palace appeared to be okay. [Y/n]'s parents were quite relieved to know that they wouldn't have any extra work for themselves.

The day after they returned, [y/n] walked into the kitchen to eat breakfast. She saw a messenger hawk sitting on her window sill. Had Zuko finally reached out to her? She hesitantly untied the letter from the bird's leg and read it.

To: [Y/n] Summons Notice to Appear Your presence is required by his majesty Firelord Ozai immediately. Failure to appear in one (1) week will result in criminal charges against you and your family. From: Chief Advisor Xin

A bolt of fear struck [y/n]'s body. She froze. She backtracked the past several days and weeks, trying to think of what she could’ve done to warrant a summons. Nothing came to mind. Then, she wondered if her parents were involved in something treacherous. She couldn’t imagine them doing such a thing...perhaps they were being wrongly accused of a crime. Perhaps she was being wrongly accused of a crime. Her mind jumped to conclusions as rapidly as her heart was beating.

Finally, [y/n] broke free of her paralysis and fumbled for her things. She hastily headed to the palace. Breakfast could definitely wait. On the way, over and over, she begged and prayed to the spirits for her and her family’s safety.

At the palace, [y/n] approached the guards at the gate and presented the summons with shaky hands. They nodded, and one of them escorted her to the throne room. The guard slipped inside to announce her presence to Firelord Ozai. Meanwhile, she waited outside for permission to enter.

This would be her first time being in the presence of the Firelord, let alone talking to him. She was terrified to say the least. [Y/n]’s mom told her all kinds of stories about how scary he was. From the paintings she had seen before, his looks alone were intimidating. Her heart raced faster with every second she waited. Sweat coated her forehead and palms.

The guard returned, making [y/n] nearly jump out of her skin. He gestured for her to enter. And so she did.

The first thing [y/n] noticed was how warm the throne room was. It was massive and wide open with tall, ornate pillars outlining an aisle running down the middle. Straight ahead was the throne, where Firelord Ozai sat surrounded by large, hot, dancing flames. He wore a severe expression, looking just like he did in all those paintings. On his left sat a girl: Princess Azula. The seat on his right was empty.

Where’s Zuko? [Y/n] wondered, but only for a fraction of a second. That didn’t matter right now. She gulped nervously and approached the throne.

“F-Firelord Ozai. Princess Azula,” she shakily dropped to her knees and bowed. She had never felt so small before. “I received your message and came as soon as I could.”

“Why don’t I take this one, father?” [Y/n] gingerly peaked up to see Ozai quietly nodding to Azula. The princess rose from her seat and walked to [y/n]. [Y/n] slowly straightened up.

“Don’t be scared, [y/n]. We just want to ask you a few questions.” Azula patronized her.

“Have you seen or spoken to Zuko recently?” Azula inquired, pacing back and forth. Her heels clacked against the marble floor.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“A few days ago.”

She stopped and turned on her heels to further interrogate [y/n]. “What did you two talk about?”

[Y/n] nervously explained what happened when Zuko stopped by the other day. Azula sighed dramatically and pinched her nose.

After a long, suspenseful silence, [y/n] daringly asked, “Princess Azula...do you mind if I ask what this is about?”

Azula glanced at her with the side of her eye. "Well, since you asked, my dear brother, Zuko…he's been missing the since the attack."

Taglist (open!): @aangsupremacy @kaylove12 @celestialentitiesss

[i-donot-forget]

4 Days

My Candy Love - Love Life

Eric - Candy/Sucrette - Nathaniel

Words 2373

Spoilers Ep 12 - 13

So I was thinking about the days between the kiss with Eric and our date four days later, but from his perspective.

I don't speak english very well, so this is like 90% google translate

DAY 0

I ran away like a coward after what I had done, what was I thinking? How did I let it happen? But they weren't my imaginations, she reciprocated, right? The more I tried to remember the details of that slip, my mind could only think of one thing, her and the softness of her lips, steal her breath, her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks despite my misdeed, I couldn't help but smile because the reality was more delicious than anything I had imagined. 

The loneliness of my apartment took me out of my reverie, now I had to deal with the consequences of my actions, the only question was when? surely as soon as she got home she would tell him how I took advantage of the situation, maybe Nathaniel was on his way here right now to beat me up, which I deserve anyway ...

I still felt the light touch of her perfume on me and it was driving me crazy, I went to take a cold shower with the horrible sensation of hearing a knock on the door, a product of my tormented imagination. I could not think and I had no one to talk to, I was going around the place like a caged lion, I looked at the clock again helpless when I saw that even time was making fun of me, I changed with the idea that there was only one thing that could distract me now, go for a run. I was going fast, lost in my thoughts with the uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed, stopped at a traffic light I was left blank when I saw a blond guy in a white jacket on the other side of the sidewalk, I knew it was not him and even so I could not take my eyes off him until I was 100% sure, I trotted past him receiving the smoke from his cigar fully on my face, By the time I got to the other side of the street, I needed a cigarette more than I needed oxygen. 7 years in the trash, I thought as I ripped off the plastic and opened the box, that first puff was the only thing that managed to calm me down a bit and before I knew it I was on the second.

I walked home calmer or the fact that my head was spinning absorbed some of my attention but when I closed the door the adrenaline and excitement had passed, now I was on the floor, I saw the time and resigned that tonight I could not sleep I dropped into the chair in front of the table that was overflowing with reports, I opened the laptop and gave myself to the escape who had rescued me from Melissa for the last year and there I could see an e-mail from Ben that I should have checked that afternoon if I wouldn't have been in such a rush to get to a certain cafe at 8pm.

DAY 1

By the time the sun rose I could no longer bear the thought of not knowing what to expect, so I called Nathaniel against my logic and common sense, put the phone on speakerphone, and put it on the table as I clung to the wood tightly. Each ringtone fed my paranoia. I expected the worst, screams, insults, threats, at the very least, and then he answered, I stammered incoherencies until I realized that he didn't know, she hadn't told him… yet. I told him about the information Ben had sent me feeling slightly relieved, I hung up the phone calmer but not better, this secret was a time bomb and I felt like garbage. 

I froze as I tightened the doorknob, because by inertia my feet would take me straight to the Cozy Bear, like every morning before work and every afternoon at closing time, but I couldn't go back there like nothing else, I was a criminal returning to the scene of the crime simply couldn't break into her space after what had happened, not without her authorization. I walked towards the station in the company of a cigarette and for some reason I could not remember when was the last time I had done this, I was tense, distracted, I could not concentrate even on the simplest idea my mind was restless and I simply could not ignore the why, I would have to look at his face and act like every day, I had to be convincing and it felt horrible. I hesitated before entering and after crossing the entrance I stopped for a few seconds to look inside, searching quickly, I took a deep breath out of inertia thinking I still had a few minutes left.

- I am glad I am not the only one who is affected by the investigation . -

A friendly slap on my shoulder caused me an exaggerated start but Nathaniel passed by directly to the Chief's office, I saw how he stopped at the threshold, looked at me and gestured for me to enter. I explained the progress in the investigation with few details until our superior resumed the meeting, luckily without a field operation on the agenda I could keep my distance without raising suspicions. The day was eternal and tortuous but it was already after 10 o'clock at night when I went to vent to the gym, 3 hours later I was at home, another night awake.

DAY 2

-  It is the second day you arrive smelling of cigarettes instead of coffee. I believed that with age your habits would improve, not worsen. Is the wisdom of old age a myth? -

Nathaniel joked as the sound of his fists on the punching bag filled the air, I set the dumbbell I was lifting on the ground before giving him a look.

- Yes, yes, I want to see in what condition you will be when you are my age, young man. -

- But seriously, two days without coffee? That's a record, the Cozy Bear will go broke without you. -

- Yes, well I'm changing the coffee for the gym. With the whole move in I realized that I am not in such good shape. -

- Have you already adapted to your new apartment? -

- I finally have a bedside lamp so even though I don't have a TV, or real china, I was able to finish the last book you recommended. -

- Great. Did you start something new? -

- Yes, in fact I'm already halfway there... it's something different, more suspense with some science fiction. -

- Boring… -

- Whatever you say... to tell the truth... I had discussed it with... Candy. -

- Oh yeah? -

- Yes, now that I think about it... she asked me for the reference, I saved an article from the internet with several titles of the same style. -

- Would you send it to her? will you do me a favor. -

- Sure, mmmh I don't have her number. -

- My phone is in my jacket, the pass is 4444. -

- Don't you know her number by heart? -

- Mmmm no. -

Upon unlocking the screen, the background photo was like a kick in the stomach, it was her with a beaming smile, which I did not remember ever seeing, I imagine that smile is only for him. I looked for the contact, "Honey" of course ... I sent it and put the phone quickly as if it burned in my hands.

I avoided the excused lunch with an imaginary date with a divorce lawyer, I drove through the city with no clear destination, away from those streets where by any chance of life I could come across her, I parked at a gas station when it became apparent that no matter how long I was behind the wheel I would not find the right words and finally I called her, dial tone and after a few minutes, mailbox. Come on again, she must be tending the cafe after all. Second try, back to the mailbox, this is more difficult than I thought. What if she doesn't want to answer me? No, how could she know it's me, maybe she has my number. But what nonsense are you saying? Of course she doesn't have your number, let's go once again the third time's the charm. And I was defeated, after the third attempt I did not have the courage to call again and the uncertainty began to fill my head, I drove back to the station with a thousand ideas going through my head and in all of them I am the villain.

I was collapsed on the desk in my office after the afternoon meeting when the phone rang, seeing her name on the screen made my heart race, I closed the blind on the door window and I hesitated for a moment before locking with key.

- Hello, Candy? Thanks for calling me back. I think we should talk ... -

- Eric? I don’t remember giving you my number. -

Yes ... I simply continue to deceive Nath to calm this uncertainty that is killing me, I continued to accumulate crimes and although I believed that I was prepared to face the consequences, I was surprised at myself, at what I was willing to do to find out. 

- Ahem... I asked Nath for it. I told him I wanted to share the name of the book we had talked about with you but… we both know that’s not the reason. I wanted for us to talk... about what happened between us, the other night. -

- And ... You couldn't have just stopped by? On the phone, it's a bit ... -

- I agree! But I wasn't sure that you wanted to see me. Well, anyway… -

- Okay, well, you know where to find me, right? I don't close before 8, if you haven’t forgotten… -

- Well ... I'm busy today... And tomorrow. I thought…… Maybe we can get a drink together in two days? I promise, it won't take long. -

- Uh… Okey, see you after tomorrow, then! -

When she hung up I felt that the world was turning again, that everything had stopped just with her voice, in the middle of all this a part of me was glad to hear her again. Little by little the plea that had almost stuttered became clearer,she could still hate me, disown me and want me as far as possible from her life. Maybe that was what I deserved, maybe that was for the best.

That night I slept fitfully waking up with a start until dawn, a single nightmare repeated itself in a loop, she laughing in my face for having been so stupid as to believe that there was something between us, that I was mistaken her sympathy for interest and I don't know how I could even dream of her leaving him for… for someone like me.

DAY 3

Jogging accompanied by the morning dew helped me wake up after not resting, somehow a choppy night's sleep was more harmful than a sleepless night, this lack was beginning to take its toll and it was already more than evident in my face that I was not having a good day. Today I would have a little field operation, nothing more to watch in case I saw anything suspicious, although I definitely couldn't see anything if I could barely keep my eyes open.

I hadn't been able to escape lunch today and Nath had already been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

- Everything is fine? -

Hearing that question aloud I hesitated, as if I was no longer physically capable of following this lie, I thought of confessing everything to him, not just the kiss, but this forbidden feeling that I had allowed myself to cultivate, how traitorous and scoundrel I was, but then I thought about her, and how I couldn't take away from her what belonged to her by right, if someone had to be the great antagonist it was me, the only one who would have to pay for deception and lies.

- Yes ... Although I think my attempt to give up coffee for something healthier is ironically killing me, I think I'll go back to my old habits. -

- Take care Eric, I still need you around for a while, someone has to stick up for this department. -

Who would say that words could cause physical pain felt like his words were digging into my back and blocking my throat. I could only smile. Sitting alone in an incognito vehicle my mind was blank, no, not blank really an idea had been fixed in my head as a clue that appears after rereading for the tenth time ... I could not, I simply could not do that to Nath, this had all been a huge mistake, a confusing and totally out of place situation, and it had to end as soon as possible. 

That night I couldn't sleep either, I spent the hours thinking about her, saying goodbye in some way to the moments that I had collected in my memory, I had kept this absurd fantasy for too long and I couldn't continue lying to myself.

DAY 4

This morning I was calm, despite being the day of our meeting, but perhaps it was not tranquility but resignation, today the suspense ended, this story that should never have existed ended.

The hours passed quickly because I had already made a decision, if I wanted to end this forever there should be no doubt, I had to tell her absolutely everything, so when she rejects me and denies each and every one of my hopes, I could turn off that light that still wants to see her, that not even the fact that she is with someone else has been able to extinguish, it must be her and it must be brutal.

I was surprised at how quickly the orange glow of the evening began to creep in through my office window, it seemed that after all I did not really want to go to my “date”. My discouragement was turning into nervousness with each step I took, by the time I realized I was outside the cafe.

And then I saw you through the window and I smiled without being able to contain myself because only when I saw you did I realize that I missed you and that I had not liked spending so many days without seeing you and that everything even seemed a little brighter... 

Oh… Shit, I'm really screwed...

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Twenty) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Sir kink. Name calling. Brat taming. Fingering. Oral (female receiving). Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, ladies, gents, and nonbinary sibs!). Impregnation kink. Cock warming.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 7289

Timeline: Right after part nineteen.

When Hotch came back from Wisconsin, he scooped me up in his arms before I could say or do anything, and he spun me around until I started feeling sick. I asked him what he could possibly be so happy about, and he told me between lengthy kisses that Strauss gave him his job back because of how well he performed during the case they just got back from. My eyes went wide with joy, and I immediately kissed him back. He spun me around a few more times before deciding that he needed to lay me down before he would get too dizzy and accidentally drop me. 

 Jack was already in bed, and I was almost tempted to go wake him up just so that he could see his dad. But Hotch insisted that he just wanted to have some more time alone with me, so I obliged.

We sat on the couch as he explained everything to me. After he left the house, Hotch went to go talk Emily into going with him to Wisconsin since she also hadn’t officially left the unit yet, and he was hoping that it would convince her to stay. Emily gave in, and they flew to Wisconsin together and met up with the team at the Milwaukee Police Department station in the heart of the city. Strauss wasn’t at all happy with their sudden, uncalled for appearance, but she decided to let them stay and reprimand them later for their insubordination.

I kissed Hotch and pulled him over me as he said that. I wished that I could have been there to see the look on Strauss’s face when she realized that they were there and there was nothing she could do about it. Hotch told me that she was shocked but also pissed, and even the falsified image of what she looked like in my head was enough to make me smile ear to ear.

While I fiddled with his belt, Hotch told me that they found the Unsub after the next body was found just after him and Emily landed in Milwaukee. He told me that my profile was what helped them narrow down their search, and they found the guy through his son at the school and the connections he had to all of the mothers. When he got my shirt off, he told me that Strauss didn’t want to send the team into the Unsub’s house, even though they knew that he had another victim inside. Hotch stood his ground. “Just like you taught me to,” he whispered against my neck. And he told Strauss that he was going to send Emily into the house in order to get reasonable cause to send the rest of the team in and make the arrest.

Hotch kissed his way down to my breasts and continued to tell me how Strauss came up to compliment him after made the arrest and I moaned. It was a relief to know that she finally saw that he was actually good at his job and he was a necessary part of the team. He pinched my nipples, which were still sore from playing the other day, and he told me that she offered him his job back right on the spot. He took it, but on the condition that I would get to come back to the BAU. My fingers tangled in his hair and I brought his lips back to mine as I told him how much I love him.

He wasted no time thrusting into me the second my shorts were pulled to the side. We were going to go back to work. We were going to have our jobs back. Our lives were going to be normal again. I was so relieved. All of the worry that we had been drowning in since my initial suspension last week was finally being washed away with every passionate thrust he gave me. We were going to be okay. I didn’t have to be mad at him anymore, though we would still need to talk about him lying to me. But he did everything I could have asked of him, which was to prove that he was the best unit chief the Bureau had. Getting our jobs back just happened to be a nice addition to the reward of putting Strauss in her place.

I sighed as I reached the top of the steps with the laundry basket in hand. Hotch had been so busy with getting back to work over the past few days that he didn’t have time to keep up with the house like we had been getting used to over the past week or so. I was so proud of him, though, so I had no room to complain. He went back to work the day after his suspension was lifted, and he went to go talk to Strauss about reinstating me. She said that the committee’s investigation into my conduct had already started and was too far in to stop, but she insisted that it looked good for me, and that we could be expecting a call to have me reinstated within the next few days.

Hotch and I had talked about him going behind my back to ask for a transfer from Strauss. Though everything ended up working itself out for us, it didn’t erase the fact that he lied and betrayed my trust. I was honest with him about how I felt about him quitting on the BAU for me, and that the stressor was me sub dropping. I told him that his actions only hurt me compared to his intention, which was to protect me. I told him that I felt betrayed because we spent days telling each other that we would talk about it, but we never ended up getting to it. It was his promise that we would talk about it, and it was his promise that he broke.

It took a lot of apologizing and a lot of convincing me that he thought he was doing the right thing to finally get me to understand and calm down about it. I knew that I couldn’t be mad at him forever for something so small, but he also needed to learn that I wouldn’t just let him get away with lying to me like that. He told me that he would never lie to me again because that was how his marriage with Haley fell apart. He didn’t want us to end up like that. He learned from his mistake and it wasn’t going to happen again. I had to trust that he meant that.

Trust was everything, especially in the kind of relationship we had. It was absolutely imperative that I could trust Hotch in every aspect of our relationship. Romantically, sexually, and professionally. If I couldn’t trust him professionally, then there was a domino effect that would crash into our romance and sex. I needed to know every time we started a scene that he knew my limits and that I could trust him to never hurt me. There had to be complete trust, and he broke that for a bit when I was already vulnerable. So when I explained that to him, I could tell that it stung to hear, but he needed to know. Because how was I any different if I didn’t tell him the truth about how I felt?

Despite how hard it was to have that conversation with one another, it was a necessity. Once it was over and done with, though, Hotch understood entirely how I felt about it, and we were able to move past it. He went up to work on a case in his chair in our room, and I went to do the laundry. We needed a second to ourselves to just sit with what was said and how we were going to move forward. Both of us were mature people who loved each other wholly, and this wouldn’t come between us. We just needed to think. And that was okay.

So as I stepped into the bedroom with the clean laundry load that had just finished, I spotted that Hotch moved from his chair to the bed. He was leaning against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed over each other, a case file in his lap. He looked up to watch me as I walked into the room. I had changed out of my shorts because they needed to go into the next load in the washer, so I changed into one of Hotch’s blue flannel pajama pants. Like I said, it was my new obsession to wear his clothes around the house, and he still hadn’t opposed it.

I put the laundry basket down on the dresser so that I could sort through what needed to go in which drawers and what needed to go into the closet. When I looked up, I could see Hotch watching me through the mirror; but every time I would catch him, he would look back down at his report like he wasn’t doing anything. I smirked to myself as I folded a pair of his socks together and put them in his drawer. I loved him, even when we were supposed to be mad at each other.

I looked back up again and caught Hotch biting his bottom lip while staring at my ass. I rolled my eyes and bent down a little dramatically in order to put a pair of my socks away. Hotch shifted on the bed, bringing the file up on his lap to cover his tightening pants. When I stood back up, I continued doing the rest of the laundry without looking at him or making another move like that.

“Thank you, by the way” Hotch smiled at me through the mirror. I turned around with confusion written all over my face. What on Earth did he have to thank me for? I had been so… useless and grumpy since being put on suspension. I didn’t deserve any praise of any kind. “You’ve been so patient and understanding throughout all of this, even when you really didn’t have to be. You stepped up to make the best of the situation, and there aren’t enough words to express how much that has helped me.”

“Aaron… I…”

What was I supposed to say to that? I didn’t even realize that was how I had been or how Hotch felt about it. I was just being me. “Stepping up” didn’t even feel like the right way to praise me. There were about three to four days where all I did was mope around, and then when I found out that he lied to me, I practically threw a tantrum. I had been the worst throughout all of this, not the best. But he seemed so adamant on complementing behaviors I didn’t even realize I had.

He crawled to the end of the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.

I dropped what I was doing at the dresser and warily approached him. He was being weird, right? Aaron Hotchner just got his job back, and he was being… calm about it— heck, he wasn’t even racing to get back to the office yet. He was just sitting there, watching me and talking to me. There were a million and one reasons to be worried, then. Not only did Hotch know about my behaviors, but I knew about his, and this wasn’t at all what I expected from him.

I slid onto his lap, my legs bracketing his thighs, my arms snaking around his neck while he held my waist tightly to make sure I wouldn’t fall off. Hotch pressed into me as he kissed my lips deeply and passionately, both of us sucking in a deep breath through our noses while still connected. While he slid his tongue into my mouth to claim dominance, my fingers started running through his dark hair, tugging gently every so often whenever I felt myself need him more.

Before I knew it, though, Hotch brought a gentle hand up to my neck and pushed me away from our kiss. I tried to catch my breath the best I could while staring down at him. The two of us were worse than a pair of rabbits, there was no denying it, but I didn’t expect this from our morning. I thought that, if anything, he would have taken me out of the house to get breakfast to celebrate or something. But I guess that I shouldn’t have been too surprised, either, considering how frequently we needed to feel each other. If there was ever a fleeting thought of possibly fucking one another, there was a great chance that it would happen shortly after. Hotch probably saw me standing at the dresser, had one of those fleeting thoughts, and decided that he was going to have me. I wasn’t about to stop him.

“You’ve been so good, baby girl,” he leaned back in and kissed the clear space on my neck above where his thumb was gently pressing into my skin. My eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. “I want to give you a reward. Anything of your choosing.” He kissed the other side of my neck. “Let me thank you.”

I nodded eagerly against his touch, and then the next thing I knew, he was standing up, carrying me in his arms. He spun around, still kissing my neck and jawline, then he carefully started laying me back down on the bed. My head hit the comforter carefully and I smiled up at him. A realization hit me like a train: I loved him and trusted him. He only wanted what was best for me. He thought that getting a transfer so that I could get my job back was good for me. I couldn’t blame him for that. It was like making a call in the field. He did what he thought was right, and he learned from the mistake he made. If I trusted his calls in the field, I could trust him now.

He ran his cold hands under my shirt to keep them warm as he asked me, “What first?”

“Your shirt,” I didn’t hesitate.

I wanted to see him so bad— all of him. Usually, Hotch spent the majority of his time focusing on getting my pants off, and that was about it. That was unless he was tying me up. But Hotch was normally an eager person, so when it came down to clothes, he would work around them to get what he really wanted. Then this reward came along and I knew that I wanted to see all of him so that when he was inevitably going to be hovering over me, his eyes glued to mine, his hips bucking against mine until we were both a moaning mess, I wanted to see him flexing as he got close or as he focused on pleasing me.

Hotch leaned up, sliding his hands out from under my shirt, and he slowly started pulling his navy blue nightshirt over his head. I gulped at the sight of him. He wasn’t Superman ripped, but did that matter? Hotch worked out almost every day to make sure that he was fit for the field, and that he could “keep up with the youngins”. He wasn’t even that fucking old and he acted like he was already at the age in need of a walker. So because he had it in his mind that he needed to work harder in order to keep up with the rest of the team, and more so with me and Jack outside of work, Hotch made sure he was fit as he could be… and… Wow. I always took notice of it, but there was something about staring at him when I knew what was about to come.

I reached out and ran a hand over his chest, feeling how hard he tensed under my touch. He was always so much more sensitive than I was. Even the lightest of innocent touches could set me on fire, but Hotch… if his eyes even lingered for long enough, he was a goner. Touching him without having my hand torn away and pinned over my head was a complete miracle.

“What now?” He shivered and hovered back over me so that he could stare right into my eyes.

His hands slid back under my shirt, and this time it was my turn to shiver. I leaned up slightly and kissed him as hard as I could while fidgeting with his pants. Usually, it was at this point that Hotch would move away from me to make sure that I wasn’t getting too eager, but this was my reward, and he wanted whatever I wanted. If I wanted to get into his pants as fast as possible, no foreplay, then he was going to let me. That made me want him more, in the strangest way.

“My shirt,” I begged through our kiss, “and my pants. Please.”

He took my plea as more of an order. The hands that had been hiding under my shirt worked their way up, scrunching the bottom half of the fabric up at his wrists. I suddenly moaned into his mouth when he cupped my breasts and started massaging them lightly. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I wanted him to strip me of my clothes, but, fuck, I wasn’t going to stop or correct him.

When I managed to untie the hem of his pajama pants, I started pushing them down his body, yearning for what was waiting underneath. Hotch hissed slightly as his erection sprang free, and I could briefly feel him grinding up against my thigh for more. This wasn’t at all his speed, and it was obvious. Hotch had two settings: so fast and hard that I wouldn’t be able to walk right for a few days, or so torturously slow that I made a mess of the bed and I was nothing but a broken record of pleas and moans for hours. If it were up to him that morning, I probably would have been cuffed to the headboard, gagged, and blindfolded as he had his way with me for hours. While that thought was definitely appealing, and that would have to be an afternoon event, I just wanted him to shower me with the love he so clearly wanted to give me.

Hotch pulled my shirt off the rest off the way, and as my hands went directly back between us to palm his erection, he moved away ever so slightly. I groaned, bucking my hips around, but he pushed me onto the bed with more force than I was expecting, making me yelp slightly. I bit my lip as I relaxed in order to watch him pull my pants off slowly.

“You have to stop wearing my clothes,” he whispered before kissing my exposed thighs once the pants were to my knees.

“Why?” I moaned, grabbing onto his hair.

“Because it drives me wild.”

“That’s not a bad—” I gasped as his fingers ghosted over my clit as a slight punishment for talking back, but I didn’t relent. I wanted to push my luck as far as I could. “That’s not a bad thing.”

Hotch hid a grin by kissing my calves after pushing my pants to my ankles. When my pants were entirely off, and they had been thrown to the far side of the room, Hotch inched his way back up so that his face was even with mine.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked quietly, tucking some of my hair behind my ear.

“You.”

“Be specific, baby girl, or it doesn’t count.”

His fingers were slowly running lines up and down my thighs and all I could think about was how they would feel inside me. They were so long, and so, so fucking thick… The veins on his arms and hands always made me feral, and thinking about him flexing his arm every time he pumped his fingers into me… I… Fuck.

“Your fingers,” I begged. “Please. I want your fingers.” I bucked my hips up, earning a rough smack on my thigh to push me back down. “Please,” I begged again, staying as still as I could.

Hotch smirked, “Try to stay still. Use your manners, moan however much you want and as loud as you want— I want to hear you screaming for me.” I gulped. “And ask for permission to cum. Do you understand?”

I nodded, “Yes, Sir.” It was going to be damn near impossible to not move without restraints, but I had to try my best. Besides, restraints weren’t a bad idea if it came down to it.

One of Hotch’s hands grabbed mine, and he intertwined our fingers, then gave me a gentle squeeze. I stared at his dark, lust filled eyes, and kept my focus right on him as his other hand inched up my thigh and towards my dripping pussy. I was already a fucking mess for him and he had hardly even touched me. No one else could compare in that way. No one else in my life ever made me that desperate, and no one else could do it without even touching me. Hotch was so special in a thousand different ways, but it was always a thought I had, especially when I would suddenly feel how wet I was for him.

“You’ve been so good,” he whispered, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing small, gentle circles. I threw my head against the bed. “And you’re already so wet for me… I bet if I just…” He slid two fingers into me with ease. He chuckled, “I figured.” He pushed into me all the way and immediately curled them to find my g-spot. I gasped, whipping my head back up, and instinctively grabbing his wrist. Just like I said, the veins were right against my touch as he flexed his arm to keep fucking me with his fingers, despite the fact that I had a grip on him. “I told you to stay still,” he let go of my hand so that he could pry off my hold on his wrist. “Give me the other one.”

I internally screamed, cursing myself for moving at all. However, I still did as I was told, giving my other hand to Hotch. He kept curling his fingers inside of me, just slower now, while he collected my wrists together, then pinned them over my head. Despite this all being about rewarding me, he knew that he still had to show some form of domination because that was what made us— and specifically our sex— special. Besides, he knew that I liked it, so, technically, he was still rewarding me.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl,” he insisted again.

“Make me cum, Sir, please.”

He grinned, knowing he had won some kind of game he put together in his head. He was rewarding me, but it was still a perk for him to hear me begging for what I wanted most. Still grinning like a mad man, though, Hotch ducked down and licked my clit slowly and gently.

“Sir,” I moaned quietly.

He licked again and started working his fingers in and out of me at a faster pace. My hands found the pillows above my head, and without mobility to grab onto anything else while Hotch pinned me down, I grabbed onto the fabric of the pillowcases as hard as I could. Hotch’s grasp around my wrists tightened as he fucked me harder with his long fingers and his mouth locked around my sensitive clit, turning me into the moaning mess he was hoping for.

“Just like that, Sir,” I encouraged. “Please.”

Hotch’s fingers curled up inside of me, hitting my g-spot again, earning a loud moan that echoed through the house. He wanted to hear me scream for him, and we were slowly getting to that point. If he didn’t let up soon, I was going to cum, and I was going to scream his name until I lost my voice. That was what he wanted, though, right? He wanted me to lose control and just be his again. He wanted to remind me that despite any bumps in the road, we could work through anything because he loved me more than anything. There was passion, there were kisses, there were a million ways to say “I love you” to each other, but nothing compared to hearing each other moan one another’s names. There was something about knowing that you gave them so much pleasure that all they could think about was your name gliding off their tongue again and again that made it worth the bumps in the road.

His tongue flicked over my clit, sending another shiver up my spine. I tugged at his grip on my wrists, but he didn’t let go. So, I decided to play the only card I had: my reward. “I want to touch you. Please…”

Hotch groaned against my pussy, making me clench around his fingers. He released my hands, and they immediately shot to his hair. My fingers tangled in the long strands of his black hair as I tried my hardest to keep him close. I craned my neck up to get a look at him, and he stared at me through his lashes, still smirking against my clit. Asshole…

“Don’t stop,” I begged, squeezing my thighs around his head as I began to feel the familiar knot tightening in my stomach. “Sir—” He spread his fingers inside me slightly, stretching me just like his cock would. “Aaron!” I screamed, pulling on his hair. He moaned against me and worked harder to make me scream his name again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Just when I caught on that he was spelling his name with his tongue on my clit, I felt how close I was and knew that I was going to cum soon. “Sir, may I cum, please?” He eyed me through his lashes and nodded slightly. I pulled at his hair again as I felt myself tipping over the edge. “Aaron!” He kept lapping his tongue at my clit as I came around his fingers, helping me ride out my high as I bucked around and held him close. My legs shook, my thighs releasing his head, my moans turning into breathless gasps.

When I calmed down, Hotch slowed his movements, waiting until the last second to slowly pull his fingers from my core. He brought his fingers up to my mouth, and I took a moment to notice the vein running down his arm and how his muscles constricted as he curled his fingers against my tongue. As I tasted myself on his fingers, Hotch licked my slit, up and down, over and over again, cleaning up the mess he made of me. My grip didn’t let up until he finally retreated from me entirely and I could catch my breath.

He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and replaced the touch with his lips pressing against mine with desperation. I tasted more of myself on his tongue, making both of us moan nearly simultaneously. He grabbed my hands again with his and held them against the mattress as he ground his hips against mine again, his erection pressing against my slit.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl,” he said again.

I squeezed his hands. “Fuck me.”

His lips were back on mine in an instant. I let out a breath through my nose since he got me so off guard, but then I started kissing him back with even more force. “Fuck me, what?” he asked when he parted from me suddenly.

“Fuck me, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Without using his hands, he guided his length to my entrance and slowly slid into me. It wasn’t like the other day when he first rediscovered the box, or the days after that where he wanted to try everything else in there. During those days of exploration, Hotch had fucked me rough and fast to make sure I was a mindless, moaning mess. But this time, he went slow to make sure I felt every inch as he whispered in my ear that he loved me. And I really did feel every inch. After my first orgasm, I was still tight and sensitive, and it made him groan in my ear to feel me clench around his girth.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my lips. I echoed his words as he bottomed out inside of me, giving me every inch of him all at once. “You’re so tight,” he whined, pulling back. I squeezed his hands as his thrusts started getting sloppy. “All mine…”

“I’m yours,” I moaned. “Yours, Sir.”

He moaned with relief upon hearing my desperate moans and agreements. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Aaron Hotchner. All yours. Only yours.”

“Every inch of you is mine.”

I nodded before kissing him again while grinding my hips against his to encourage him to keep going. His thrusts kept getting sloppier, a sign that he was getting close. I looked down between us, catching a glance at his chest holding tight as he focused on hitting every spot inside me that we both needed. His biceps were flexing as his hands continued to pin mine down, our fingers still intertwined and squeezing. This was exactly what I wanted. This was my reward, and I couldn’t think about anything other than how much I loved him.

“Claim me as yours,” I begged. He knew what that meant, and it drove him absolutely wild. An animalistic groan left his throat as he tried fucking me harder in order to chase both of our orgasms. “Make me cum for you, please—” Before I could even finish asking, Hotch let go of one of my hands and brought his fingers down to my clit as he continued thrusting into me with newfound speed and strength. I tightened around him, bucking my hips around as euphoria overtook me. “Sir!” I cried out, screwing my eyes shut. His fingers were working hard and fast on my clit, taking advantage of the fact that it was still sensitive from my first orgasm. “I’m close…” My hand, which had been freed by Hotch, shot up to the headboard, and I grabbed on for dear life as the knot started to build.

Hotch moaned, working faster somehow. Maybe it was a good thing that he worked out as often as he did. Maybe I needed to start training with him—

I moaned again as he hit my g-spot on purpose.

“Cum on my cock,” he encouraged. “Cum for me.” He leaned down and forced my mouth open with his tongue. “Cum,” he moaned into my mouth. The order he gave me sent me over the edge. My knuckles turned white against his grip on one hand and the headboard in the other. I thrusted up, meeting his hips, riding out my orgasm, squeezing my walls around him. “Fuck—“ he groaned, giving me one hard thrust. “Fuck, fuck—“ He gave another one. “I love you—“ He snapped his hips forward one last time as he came inside of me. 

I draped my free arm around his neck, holding him close to me as he hid his face in the crook of my neck while he came down from his high. He bucked his hips slightly, just trying to feel more of me as he finished cumming. He buried himself in me entirely as he let his hips slump against mine. I smiled at the ceiling as I played with the ends of his hair, thinking to myself that we could stay like that forever and I wouldn’t mind a single bit.

“Mine,” he whispered against my skin.

I didn’t realize that Hotch was so possessive. I mean, I should have guessed since he was so protective and controlling, and he liked marking me as his whenever we fucked; but I didn’t realize that his possessiveness had reached this point. I loved it. I liked meaning enough to someone that I was only theirs. I liked knowing that I could trust the man I called mine. I liked trusting and loving Aaron.

Hotch collapsed on the mattress, finding just enough space beside me to safely land before pulling me into his arms. I hugged my arms around his bare and sweaty chest before adjusting to rest my head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head and held me close. We were both still panting, but it was nice and calming, somehow. I found that the more I relaxed against his rising and falling chest, the more peace I found in the silence hanging in the air. I felt at home while his arm body comforted me and he rubbed gentle circles on my back with his fingertips, and his cock was still sitting deep within me.

I kissed his collarbone, dragging my hand up and down his chest to feel how he kept tensing under my touch. His muscles were so tight, so sensitive, so perfect. I silently wished that we could stay like that forever. I wanted to be trapped in his arms, both of us still catching our breaths, sweaty, tense, and sore. I wanted him to stay buried inside of me forever so that I could always feel full with his length and cum. I wanted the constant reminder that I was his and that he was mine, and that we loved each other.

Hotch and I both groaned as my phone on my bedside table started ringing. It definitely wasn’t work, so I silently begged him to not pick it up because there was no reason to see who it was. Habits were habits, though, and Hotch had to answer every call we got, no matter what— even if it was on my phone. So he reached over me and answered the call since I was too stubborn to do it.

“Agent Greenaway’s phone,” he greeted with a smile meant just for me. As he waited to hear what the other side of the call had to say, he leaned in and kissed my neck until I finally broke into a giggle and pushed him away. “Chief Strauss—” He pulled out of me and sat up in an instant. I whined quietly at the loss of his cock inside me, and lightly hit his arm to let him know that I wanted him back. “I— Yeah. Let me put them on for you.” He took the phone away from his ear and looked at me with fearful eyes. I bit back a laugh. It wasn’t like Strauss wasn’t aware of our relationship, but it was funny to see him freaking out about picking up a call from our boss on my phone. “It’s about your reinstatement.”

My smile faded and I snatched the phone from him. “Chief Strauss,” I greeted. “Sorry, I was busy doing dishes.” I looked at Hotch and shrugged, wondering if that lie was sufficient enough. He also shrugged, though, which wasn’t fucking helpful.

“I have good news. Your evaluation has been completed earlier than expected. The committee has decided to reinstate you.”

My smile reappeared and I hid my face in Hotch’s chest to hide how ecstatic I was. “That’s great news, ma’am. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Agent Morgan,” she said sourly.

I raised a brow against Hotch’s chest. “Ma’am?”

“Your reinstatement was not my decision. I happened to be out voted because Agent Morgan went over my head to talk to the committee in order to fight on your behalf.”

Derek Morgan, you son of a bitch. You glorious, magnificent, loyal son of a bitch. Friday night, I was going to take him to the bar, and I was going to pay for every drink he wanted. There weren’t enough words in the world to express how grateful I was of him. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to risk his own career in order to fight for mine. I swear, if I wasn’t in bed with Hotch still, I would have found Morgan and kissed him.

“A word of the wise, Agent Greenaway,” Strauss continued, “keep your head down. Make sure you’re the only one answering your phone. And don’t give me another reason to suspend you.”

I rolled my eyes. She was such a thorn in my side, I swear. “Thank you, Chief Strauss.”

“I hate to ask, but is Aaron still there?”

“Yeah,” I answered, leaning back from his chest to point at the phone, a signal that she was talking about him. He raised a brow and I shrugged again. “Would you like to speak with him?”

“Why else would I ask?”

I rolled my eyes again and handed the phone to Hotch. He watched me carefully as he brought the phone back to his ear. I searched his face for any hint of what they were talking about. I was just trying to gauge if it was good or bad news, or if it was just something simple about work. When Hotch perked up and smiled, I immediately recognized that it was more good news outside of our reinstatements.

“Thank you for letting me know,” he told Strauss as they began wrapping up their call. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to talk to Dave tomorrow.” He kept nodding. “Alright. Thanks. Bye.”

After hanging up the call with Strauss, Hotch stretched to put my phone back on my bedside table. My eyes still followed his, trying to understand what was going on. Who was Dave? Why did Hotch seem so excited about what Strauss said? My mind was racing with endless questions, but also with the fact that I was getting my job back… Morgan went out of his way to help me, and I was going to be back at work before I knew it. Things were looking up again after being so shit for the past week.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“You first,” he insisted, wrapped me in his arms again.

I rolled my eyes slightly, playfully annoyed by his teasing. “I get to go back to work tomorrow because Morgan went to talk to the committee without Strauss there to stop him. Now you.”

“Have you ever heard of David Rossi?”

Oh, my fucking— “You mean, like, the David Rossi?” I asked while pushing myself back out of his arms.

My shock was clear, but Hotch seemed giddy. His smile was so bright, and he looked as excited as I had ever seen him. Of course I knew who David Rossi was. He was a great agent back in his day, he even helped start up the BAU. From what I understood, him and Hotch were old friends,-- just like my dad was with Gideon, but I had never met Rossi. Despite my efforts to get into every one of his guest lectures at the Academy, I could never get in, even with my dad trying to find an extra seat with his connections. David Rossi was a legend, there was no doubt about it.

I pressed for more answers, “What about him?”

“He’s coming out of retirement. He’s rejoining the BAU because Gideon’s officially out.”

“I—” I didn’t know what to say. Things were really, really, finally looking up for us. With our reinstatements and the addition of Rossi to the team, it seemed like things couldn’t get better. There wasn’t much I could say as words seemed to fail me; but there was one thing that made sense to express how happy and relieved I was that things were coming together and siding with us for once. “I love you.” I leaned in and kissed his lips.

Hotch tangled his fingers in my hair as he held me close for a moment until we needed to part in order to catch our breath. “I’m going to have to talk to Morgan about going over Strauss’s head, but… I’m glad someone was able to do something.”

Morgan… That beautiful son of a bitch that I was indebted to forever.

I escaped Hotch’s arms again, this time hearing him whine at the loss, and I grabbed my phone. Hotch propped his chin on my shoulder, watching as I pulled up my texts and found Morgan’s contact. I clicked our messages and started writing to him: “Asshole.” Hotch chuckled in my ear, surprised that I was so upfront and hostile with Morgan; but that was how we were. We teased each other in a mean way, but it was all in good fun. Hotch knew that Morgan and I worked well together and that we were close, which was why he paired us up the most. If I wasn’t with Hotch for one reason or another, I was probably with Morgan, and if that weren’t the case, then the last resort was Emily. My field partner through and through, the one who always had my back no matter what, was Derek Morgan. I trusted him with my life out on the field, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t give him a rough time for being a total tool and asshat sometimes. Someone needed to give him push back when Garcia was giving him all the attention he craved. I wasn’t afraid to bite back.

My phone buzzed as Morgan responded. Hotch and I read it quickly. “What did I do this time?” he asked. He was always so guilty, geez.

I typed back, “You’re such an idiot. You shouldn’t have gone over Strauss’s head.”

“But it worked. Didn’t it? ;)”

“A wink?” Hotch inquired, grabbing my phone from me.

I laughed and reached to retrieve it, but his long arms held it just out of my range. I put my hand on his upper thigh to catch him off guard, and it worked. Hotch tensed up and groaned at how close my hand was to his crotch, and his arm instinctively fell out of the air. I grabbed my phone before he could reposition or push me off.

“Are you jealous, Agent Hotchner?” I teased. He scoffed and shook his head. “After what we just did?” Hotch wasn’t laughing anymore. I doubled back with a gulp. “Okay, so you remember how you said that this was about rewarding me—” Hotch still didn’t smile. “I love you?” I said warily. He squinted. “So… I’m going to call Haley, see if we can drop Jack off with her tonight while we go celebrate at a fancy restaurant…” I started sliding off the bed, but Hotch caught me and pulled me close.

He stared at me for a moment before whispering, “I love you more than anything, Y/N. You know that, right?”

I nodded. “Of course I know.”

“Call Haley. We’re staying in, though.” He leaned forward and slowly… tenderly… lovingly kissed my lips. “And get the box.”

I gulped, hesitating another moment as our lips stayed so close to one another that I could feel his breath on my face. “I love you.” I pecked his lips with another kiss before escaping off the bed to get dressed, call Haley, get Jack ready to go to his mom’s house, then grab the black box for Hotch.

[matildaofoz]

Happy Deathday Pt. 1 (Vampire!Michael x Reader)

Morgan Freeman Voice-Over: "...and while she had had every intention of finishing the chapter, she didn't. Inspiration is a fickle thing and our dear author knew that such things could not be rushed."

A/N: You heard the man. To further heighten the suspense, I decided to post the first part of this for now. The second part will be coming, don't worry but I need more time and maybe another rewatch of AHS...

Warnings: Mentions of Smut, Angst, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Alcohol

Word Count: 5.1K

You woke up gingerly, the morning sun peaking through your blinds, tickling your nose as you turned to the other side, in a desperate attempt to continue your slumber. It was your birthday and ever since you had gotten to know Michael Langdon, Vampire extraordinaire, several years ago, birthdays had begun to mark an ever growing sadness. Truth be told, the first two years were spent in a dizzying bliss, unable to quite comprehend how someone as powerful and magnificent as Michael could be enamored with somebody of your...well insignificance. A chance encounter at a gala dinner hosted in the name of some holier-than-thou philanthropist you were sent out by your editor-in-chief to cover, had lead you unwittingly into the arms of the most dangerous being on this planet. That philanthropist turned out to be Michael Langdon.

How he hadn't killed you and drank you dry when he had caught you sneaking into one of the private offices upstairs in the hopes of digging up some dirt, he never revealed. He only said that your brazenness, your fire to find the truth and your unapologetic nature had caught him off guard and so instead of disposing off you as he knew how, he had invited you over for dinner the following weekend. You caught on relatively quickly that there was something otherworldly about the man with hooded icy blue eyes, set in a face so magnificent it was hard to look at him too long. He was irresistible in appearance and character, always a witty remark thrown your way when you tried to pry information from him over a dinner you would never forget. You had needed to satisfy your curiosity and solve the puzzle he presented and Michael needed, no wanted to spend time with someone who didn't eat up his every word out of his plump lips like they were starving for his approval. You did none of that and it made Michael feel almost human to have an adversary of sorts. Your little cat and mouse game culminated in you walking in on him uninvited several weeks later, or so he let you think, while feasting on a recently elected young and energetic politician, straddling her convulsing form on the dining table. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched, teeth sunken into the woman's neck to the bone, as you stood, simply watching with wide eyes. He could see you put the pieces together in that exquisite little brain of yours, lips apart and your heartbeat so deliciously erratic at the scene he had painted just for you. He was rather dramatic, you had to admit.

When you whispered out despite the horror coursing through your veins: “You're a fucking vampire, I knew it!” He groaned, tearing the woman's jugular and coming to sit back on his knees atop the table, the lifeless body of the politician straddled between his thighs, his erection straining painfully against the tight fabric of his black pants. Your gaze on him, indulging the beast he was underneath the angelic appearance, made him harder than he had ever been. Oh he wanted your blood, so sweet, pumping so deliciously beneath your skin but he didn't want to drain you like he had the woman just then who's name he had already forgotten. He wanted you and had for some time now and the urge became overpowering. He grinned at you, blood dripping down his chin, knowing that he had at last found what had been missing from his eternal monotony for so long.

Ever since that night, where Michael had pressed you up against the edge of the dining table after you had solved his little puzzle as he wanted you to - and after very little hesitation on your behalf - had fucked you raw next to the corpse, you had been lost to Michael Langdon in more ways than one. There must have been something very wrong with you to begin with, you often mused in the weeks and months after that fateful encounter but every time Michael's number lit up your phone after a long day in the office and every time he touched your burning skin, made your body sing in a way you never wanted anyone else but him to do, you cared less and less of what the world might think.

Your unholy relationship evolved as the seasons came and went and you came to imagine a life with him, as pathetic as it may sound. You knew that you were painfully mortal and your life was but a brush on the canvas to him. Michael knew, and he did everything to spoil you, taking you on vacations to places you had never dreamed of seeing, showering you in expensive gifts and finery. You always told him that while you appreciated his gifts wholeheartedly, what you ultimately wanted was him, the beast and the man and his unbeating heart constricted as he knew that what you should want, nay deserved was the one thing he could not give you.

The topic of how vampires were created came up last year around your birthday, you remembered, rolling around in your bed, thinking back to the conversation:

“So, if one wanted to create vampires, how exactly would one go about that? Purely journalistic interest,” you questioned feigning innocence, your fingers curling a lock of the blonde vampires hair around your fingers. You were seated across Michael's lap on one of his big plushy velvet red couches in the living room, a silken bed sheet draped across your abdomen, a fire blazing in the firepit on the far side of the room the only illumination. It was rare the two of you got to spend a weekend together and you made the most of it by letting him defile you on every surface in the penthouse at his leisure, not that you complained. You were still aching from round 4 of that evening. His fingers drew lazy patterns over your bare shoulder, a smirk making its way across his kissable lips.

“Purely journalistic, of course” he chuckled reiterating your words, his hand coming to cup your cheek in his large palm, the cool metal of his rings a welcome reprieve against your flushed skin.

“That's nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Michael whispered, lips close to yours, ghosting over the sensitive flesh. The words made your stomach drop. Whenever you vaguely hinted at the process, the possibilty, he tried to steer the attention away from the subject, using your neediness for him against you. Not this time. With a huff, you disentangled yourself from his chiseled form, pulling the sheet up around your bare chest and walking over to the fireplace, watching as the flames licked at the wood logs.

Michael watched you, his mind racing behind his stoic facade. He didn't want you to bring up the delicate topic but not for the reason you thought.

“You know, it's cruel what you do to me,” you whispered.

“Cruel? How am I cruel to you, (Y/N)? Do I not satisfy your every need, every desire?” Michael retorted, his demeanor changing from one second to the next at your words, stinging him deeply. You were the cruel one in that moment, using his heightened emotions against him knowingly and you regretted it as soon as the words passed your lips.

In an instant he was behind you, hands grabbing your hips to whip you around to face him. The tension had been building up over the last weeks and you both knew that sooner or later they would come to explode. A little voice in the back of your heard feared he might just end your life right then and there that you had finally pushed him too far with your incessant prying. He was positively feral, icy blue eyes swallowed by darkness, inky black veins marbling his cheeks. His true form still made your heart beat furiously, that primal nature in you screaming to run. You had long stopped listening to that side you of. You were the moth and he was the flame and he could burn you to a crisp.

“Yes and no, of course you give me everything I want, more than I want or even ask of you. You know damn well what I mean, Michael!” you shot back, angry tears you didn't know had been hiding behind your (Y/E/C) eyes shooting into the corners, threatening to spill. You breathed hard against his broad chest, not willing to back down, staring down the monster before you, tempting the beast.

“Why must you ask of me what I cannot give you, Angel?” he said, black eyes staring into yours, his iron grip on your hips becoming painful. It didn't stop the lust begin to pool between your thighs and Michael could smell it, taking a deep breath, his eyes falling shut at the intoxicating aroma and his forehead came to rest against your own.

“I swear you will be the death of me. Why you have the hold you do on me, I do not know but I don't ever want to let you go,” he rumbled, his cock twitching against your belly in response to your arousal.

“Then don't, Michael,” you whispered, lifting your hands to clutch his face and making him open his eyes to look at you.

“You know when I lie. Tell me I'm lying when I say I want to be like you,” you continued, sensing a break in his impenetrable exterior when it came to the matter of him turning you. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head, his golden locks tickling your collarbone.

“I know you mean what you say, Angel. But how can you be so sure when you don't even know what it is you're signing up for?”

“What, the blood, the killing? I think I can handle it,” you countered, thinking back to the many nights you watched him stalk, hunt, eat and sometimes kill his latest victim. It never became easier but you got used to it. It was simply the way things were in Michael's world and it had become a part of yours, for better or worse.

“No, not the killing. I know you'd be a natural,” he smiled, fangs gleaming in the warm glow of the fire.

“It's what gets taken from you. Once I make you like me, you will stay as you are now, frozen in time. You will never feel the joy of having a family, the people you love around you slowly wither away and die,” he explained, pain evident in his voice.

“So you'd let me wither away and die, Michael? It's just not fair!” the tears that you had held back flowed freely down your cheeks now, your hands pushing at his chest. The thought of you growing old and dying, while he stayed as ethereal as he had been for the last 4 odd centuries made your heart constrict. You didn't want to be a blip on his eternal radar, you wanted more. Your feelings had blossomed from a pure animalistic lust and a near certain death wish at the hands of the blonde vampire before you if only it meant he would fuck you like he had that first night, into a deeper admiration for the man. You loved him, in your pathetic human way and it showed. In the way your chest heaved, those glossy tears staining your pretty face.

Michael let go of you, not baring to watch the pain he caused you. He was so close to giving in to your wish. Like he hadn't spent countless nights mulling over the prospect of turning you when you were occupied with your day job at the newspaper or lying next to him asleep after he had driven his tongue and cock into your weeping cunt, utterly spent. He was so close to biting his wrist, forcing it over your pretty little mouth, making you to drink his blood and then draining you dry.  His cock grew exceedingly hard against his stomach at the image of you becoming immortal at his hand. And yet, he couldn't, not yet. Not until he was sure that this was what you wanted, that you knew what eternity at his side entailed. He had to give you the chance to reject his offer. He would let you go, live the life he wanted you to lead, perhaps while staying with him for as long as you wanted him. In his eyes, it was not he who held the power but you.

“If that is what you really want, Angel, I will consider it,” he rumbled, his hand coming to brush through his hair begrudgingly, his back to you. How you manged to make him change his mind, he couldn't fathom. Your head shot up, eyes glinting at his admission and a smile spread over your lips. Your arms slung themselves around his torso, your wet cheeks pressing into his shoulders.

“Thank you, Michael. I'll do whatever it takes to show you that I stand by my choice,” you mumbled, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“There is in fact something you can do right now, the rest we'll talk about tomorrow,” he smirked.

His hands took yours and placed them on his evident erection, hissing at the contact of your slim fingers you wrapped all too willingly around his hard cock. You giggled, one hand coming to glide over the flushed head, already leaking precum.

You were pulled out of your daydream and back into the present when your phone buzzed. Michael.

You smiled. Speak of the Devil.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, the phone pressed to your ear and you rolled onto your back, the sheets around your hips.

“Good morning Angel, happy Birthday,” Michael's deep voice traveled through the phone, making you sigh. You'd never tire of the deep timbre.

“G'morning. You're up early,” you remarked with a small chuckle.

“Actually, it's still dark here. I've been up all night, finalizing the contracts,” he responded. Michael had flown out to Chicago at the beginning of the week to orchestrate some takeover or other. Considering he was over 4 centuries old, he still handled almost all of his business endeavors, appearing only as an enigmatic faceless investor from what you had gathered.

“True, I'm sorry, still a little groggy. Will you make it for tonight?” you asked, rubbing some sleep out of your eye and stretching on the bed, phone between your ear and shoulder as you waited for his reply.

The past year had flown by quicker than you wanted and Michael had made you reconsider at every opportunity he got. You had remained steadfast through his repetitive questions of whether you were sure. He would gauge your reaction when a mother with a small child would pass by the two of you on the street. He insisted you spend time with your family and friends, telling you in no uncertain terms that would he turn you, you could not trust yourself around the people you cared about for a long time, perhaps never for as long as they were alive. Your increase in visits to your family out of state did raise eyebrows and your mother thought you were hiding a terrible secret like a terminal cancer diagnosis from them. When she confided her worries to you, you couldn’t help but laugh, not sure if the flipside of what was really going on was any better. You eventually convinced your family that nothing was wrong and that you were just missing them. And you did. Yet still, you had made up your mind about what you wanted.

“I'm not sure I will. I'm sorry, Angel. I will let you know as soon as I am done here and on the plane. Just have fun today. Your mother is in town after all. You two ladies enjoy yourself, you have my card, don't you?” Michael replied, a tiredness apparent in his voice despite the small smile you could hear. At his words, you looked over at the night table, the sleek black credit card laying on top the latest novel you were currently entertaining yourself with while Michael was away.

“Yeah, I do. I will and I hope those idiots get that deal over the table quickly. I've missed you,” you said, one hand coming to toy with the tie on your silk sleep shorts. He loved the fabric and you didn’t mind indulging in the luxury he offered so freely. Michael's chuckle rang through the speaker as he imagined just how much you had been missing him.

“I've missed you too. Listen, Angel, I've got to go, my team is holding on the other line. Enjoy your Birthday, I'll see you soon,” he said, something unspoken in his tone as he ended the phone call, leaving you with your hands down your shorts. You contemplated on whether you should finish what you started but decided against it when your phone started vibrating again. It was your Mother.

“Good morning, Darling! Happy Birthday! Oh, I'm so excited we get to spend the day together. It was so nice of Michael to fly me out to you first class. I'm in the cab right now, I'll be there in 40,” your mother's cheery voice bubbled out the speaker, making you smile. It was awfully nice of Michael to fly her out, when he had insisted on staying out of your family life for the most part of your relationship.

You guessed your primal urges after having heard Michael's voice first thing in the morning would have to wait.

“Hey mom, I didn't know you'd already landed. I'm just hopping in the shower now. See you in 40!” you swung your legs out of bed and got ready.

°°°

The day all but flew by, the two of you truly indulging yourself against your mother's insistence that Michael had already spent more than enough. As the day past, a heaviness settled in your stomach when the time grew close for her to head back to the airport. In the cab, you leaned your head against her shoulder, her hand coming to stroke over your cheek lovingly.

“Are you alright, honey? You seem different, is everything OK between you and Michael? Are you fighting?” she asked, concern crossing her features.

“No mom, we're not fighting. We're good. I don't know, it's just so nice that you came to spend the day with me,” you laughed, the gesture not quite reaching your eyes.

“Of course, it's my baby's Birthday and when Michael offered, I couldn't refuse. It been so nice to spend more time with you lately and I'm glad that he thinks it's important that my high-flying journalist daughter comes back home now and then and that he wants you to spend time with your family. He seems to be making you very happy and that's all that matters to me, Sweety,” your mother cooed. In the beginning, she had tried to pry information from you about the man that had swept you off your feet and was unsure of his intentions with you at first, fearing that you had managed to attract a sugar daddy of sorts. You tried not to go into the details, for how could you explain your vampiric lover to her? When your relationship progressed from months to years however, she felt that whatever this man was doing to you, you were thriving and happy. You satisfied her need to know more about him with the odd instagram picture of your vacations and day-to-day life.

“He makes me incredibly happy, mom. You have no idea,” you mumbled, leaning into her touch.

“I'm so proud of you, you know. All grown-up, a gorgeous man by your side, I can already see my cherubic little grandchildren running around the backyard,” your mother said, a gleeful expression on her face. At her words, you winched, your thoughts coming back to the situation at hand. You looked up at her, biting your lip. You couldn't tell her that kids were not on the list when it came to Michael or you for that matter.

“Don't start this again, please! Not on my birthday,” you groaned and rolled your eyes, a chuckle in the back of your throat, trying to ease the lump that had formed.

“Fine, fine. I guess I can't have it all, just yet. I'm patient, though,” she chided, waving a finger at your in mock seriousness.

“Yeah, yeah, mom. Look we're here already,” you replied with a smile, hiding your disappointment at the end of her visit, your eyes taking her in. Something told you that you should memorize her features, the face that you had looked up to all your life. Your mother sensed your sadness and took your hands, squeezing them.

“Oh, don't you start blubbering now. It's been such a nice day and I'm sure you can get a weekend off work and come down to spend the day with us, perhaps Michael can finally join?” she reasoned, her own eyes welling up with tears.

“Yeah, I'll see what I can do and I'm sure Michael will come along some time,”  you responded, pulling yourself together. Before the moment between the two of you would end in tears, you got out the car and around your mother's side to open the door. What had gotten into you?

You mother exited the cab and engulfed you in a hug only a mother could give. Your arms came around her back and you clung to her, taking in her perfume and basking in the familiarity of it for a moment before you detached yourself from her and took a deep breath, a shaky laugh escaping your lungs.

“I'll take you to the check-in. Michael hasn't texted yet when he'll be there and I have ti-,”

“Oh, no, no, no darling, please. You take the cab back to the city. Enjoy the evening, maybe draw a bath and read a book before Michael gets there. I can take care of myself,” she countered. Always looking out for others, you mused and you loved her for it. You had to admit, as much fun as it had been, you were dead on your feet, not used to walking across the whole of NYC, sight-seeing with your mother.

“Fine, but you text me when you get to the gate and when you land, ok?” you demanded, kissing her on the cheek.

“I will, I will. No go on and say thank you to Michael from me!” She ushered you back to the cab, throwing a kiss your way as she made her way into the terminal. As the cab pulled away from the curb, you watched as she entered, turning around to wave at you. You waved back forcing a smile, a stray tear slipping down your cheek. You hated goodbyes.

°°°

On the way back into town, you decided you would rather spend the night at Michael's place, who had not texted you yet and you began to suspect that he would not make it back to the city that night. At least you could sink into the sheets and fall asleep enveloped in his scent. He also had a rather elaborate bathroom with a freestanding clawfoot bathtub. Your mother's words rang in your ears: a bath might just be what you needed. You gave the cabdriver the directions to Michael's penthouse.

°°°

*Beep!*

The private elevator doors slid open as you swiped the keycard over the reader. You stepped inside and pressed the only button on the panel. 30 seconds later, the doors opened up into Michael's penthouse entry hallway.

Your phone buzzed.

I see you're making yourself comfortable.

I hope your day was good.

Sorry I couldn't text you any sooner, just heading to the airport now.

Will be there in 2 hours.

Of course his security system would alert him to you swiping your keycard, you smirked.

Always watching, are you?

Stalker.

You replied, giggling as you made your way into the apartment, taking off your jacket and shoes.

I never lose sight of my prey.

Your cheeks began to flush at his reply. The deal must've gone down well. You decided on what reply would rile him up the most as you walked into the bathroom, turning the lights on to the dimmest setting. Deciding the best course of action was to meet him head on, you quickly stripped out of your clothing, separating the matching black lace underwear set from the pile and draping it over the edge of the bathtub before snapping a picture and sending it to him.

Just you wait, Angel. You could practically hear his sultry promise through the text.

You began to fill the bathtub with warm water, adding a bath bomb from the cupboard. You didn't have many of your things at Michael's place but you insisted on having a supply of them stashed in one of the glossy cabinets, seeing as you only had a shower in your apartment and loved to soak in the tub after Michael had finally let you out from under him.

That warm tingle was starting to creep up between your thighs again. It had only been a week without Michael touching you and yet you were positively brimming with excitement at the prospect of him being here soon.

Boarding the jet now.

Don't. You. Move. Angel.

Oh, you didn't intend to move a muscle until he came through those doors.

Maybe I'll start without you ;)

You replied, snickering as you stepped into the tub and groaned at the blissful warmth of the water against your skin.

Angel...

Came his reply almost instantly.

You decided to grace his threat of things to come, and you were positive both of you would be doing a lot of that, with no response. Maybe you were a little mad under the surface that he had not made an exception and came back a day earlier. You knew full well that his team could handle a takeover on their own.

Maybe he has decided against turning you, maybe this is his way of backing off, hoping you get the message, you thought, squeezing your eyes shut at the intrusive thought. No, if he was no longer interested, he would have told you, he owed you that. Yet you couldn’t shake the sense that he had been growing distant these past couple of weeks. Suddenly, 2 hours seemed like an impossibly long time to kill. It was as if an invisible noose was placed around your neck, and him coming back on your birthday would be the day where he had had enough of you, that noose coming to strangle your vision of the future.

Suddenly the warm water was no longer relaxing, instead the steam rising from the surface threatened to choke you. Maybe you had it all wrong and he was right. How could you know what you really wanted? How could be sure? Anger and frustration bubbled up inside you at the impossibility of the situation. Nothing was easy when it came to the vampire. Well, perhaps the sex.

You had only had a mimosa for brunch with your mother, not trusting yourself to to get tipsy and blurt out an unfortunately worded reply to her multiple questions of how Michael was doing and what he was up to.

You looked at the time on your phone on the bathtub side table. You had just over 90 minutes to kill before Michael would be here. Maybe some liquid courage in the form of a glass of wine would help you maneuver the contradicting thoughts in your head.

You got out the bath, dried yourself off and threw on the bathrobe hanging on the wall next to the marble sink, before stalking into the enormous open plan kitchen, where Michael always kept a few bottles of wine for whatever occasion might present itself.

You fingers flitted over the bottles, unsure of what to pick, not that you really had an idea of what was good. Knowing Michael, all of these would be. With a shrug, you grabbed one of the bottle necks at random, stopping yourself before you drove the corkscrew into the bottle. Maybe you should check the price of this. You googled the label, instant regret on your face, your eyebrows shooting up into your hairline. $180. Well, fuck me sideways, you thought, biting your lip. A moment of completion had you regarding the bottle. Screw it. With a satisfying plop, you uncorked the bottle, pouring a generous amount into a wine glass you had grabbed from the cabinet. Not wanting to drink in silence and ruminate further, you took the bottle in one hand, glass in the other and made your way over to the large sofas. Setting down the bottle and glass on the mahogany couch table, you grabbed the remote and began flicking aimlessly through the channels. You settled on a recent remake of Frankenstein, with an actor who's name you couldn't recall. Not that it mattered. Anything to take your mind off running in circles.

Soon, you were engrossed in the movie more than you cared to admit, your glass suddenly empty as you lifted it to your lips. With a shrug, you poured another glass, melting into the push upholstery. You lost track of time and how many glasses you had poured, the bottle nearly empty when the elevator pinged, sleek brushed aluminum doors sliding open to reveal Michael, dressed in a black suit that clung to him in all the right places, the equally black shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal a slither of his broad chest. You craned your neck over the tall backrest of the couch at the sound, only the top of your head and eyes visible. He met your gaze, a smirk forming in the corners of his mouth.

Tag List: @sexwon131 @leatherduncan @rocketgirl2410

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 5: Waiting And Waiting, To No Avail

Previous | Next | Masterlist

CW: Police corruption, lady whump, sadistic whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, cutting, pouring salt over open wounds, torture, implied/future non con

“I’m sorry, Beth, but we've tried everything. I've tried-"

“I don’t care! Look harder! Think better, be better, just," Beth took a breath. "Please, find my friend.”

Nic sighed. “I understand what you're going through. I care about Harper too but, we can't find her.”

Beth struggled not to cry. "There has to be something..."

Nic rested his arm out on her shoulder. "Sometimes, we can't do anything but just wait."

"'Till she shows up dead?!" Beth yelled, but her voice broke. "You don't understand," she muttered, head down as she tried to hide her tears dripping down her face. "Harp and I have been together for years. We're like sisters, we were there for each other when no one else was."

"I knew you two had a strong bond, stronger than any two people I've ever met," Nic said as he went to set down next to her partner's roommate.

"Did she ever tell you how we met?" Beth asked after a moment of silence.

"At the orphanage, right?"

"No, actually we met before; Harper always calls it destiny," the girl laughed softly. "Her family's circus came to a theater near my orphanage, when I was around 12. After seeing your parents get murdered in front of you and being able to do nothing when your brother gets kidnapped, it tends to dampen your happy mood. Nothing made me smile after that incident, despite how young I was. But when I saw those group of performers, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time."

She turned and faced Nic. "Joy. I was smiling, laughing! Especially when I saw a girl my age, who went center stage, and threw knives dead center in targets around her."

"Harper," Nic interrupted. "I've never met anyone who can throw knives as good as her. Whenever we would go to the bars, everyone would bet on her at darts since she would always win."

"Yeah, she was- is, she is, she is..." She took a breath. "Harper is good."

Nic said nothing as she continued. "Anyways, after the show, the circus went out and greeted us and as you can guess, Harper went and greeted me. She was so nice, and we connected immediately. Sometime in our conversation, my past was brought up, and I will never forget the look of remorse on Harper's face. She genuinely felt bad, not like the fake apologies that everyone else gave me. She even gave me this,"

Beth held out her wrist, that was encircled in a woven leather bracelet. "She made it herself, saying that good spirits were hidden in the strings. Maybe she should've kept it, since the next time we met was when her family was gone, just like mine."

"I need to find her," Beth pleaded. "She said we would always be together, and we're not."

She stood up and, with a determined composure, she turned to face the detective. "We are meant to survive together, Nic, and I'm going to find her."

"Beth-" Nic started, but she was already making her way to the Chief's office.

He spoke just as she walked in. “I'm sure the detective told you, Mrs. Carrien, there's nothing else we can do to find your roommate.”

The aforementioned roommate’s friend was flabbergasted. “She’s. Your. Detective! There has to be something else you can do! Or is this just payback for her going off on her own?”

The chief raised his hand to silence her. “Although it is true that Detective Winston went on her own to investigate Edward Darmine with explicit orders not to, we are lost on her case; there are no clues pointing to her location. Believe me, Harper is one of my best detectives and I am doing everything I can to find her. Until then, I would suggest going home and getting some rest, Elizabeth.”

“You can not be serious,” Beth whispered.

“I am. I assure you, we will find her. Cases like these take time, she’ll be back in our care eventually, don’t worry.”

Beth eyed him suspiciously.

Why is he so calm? This can’t be right…they can't just sit around and wait, can they?

“She better be,” Beth muttered and walked out.

The chief watched her go, and saw a failed attempt by Nic to talk to her as she walked out of the police station’s doors. He reached for his phone, and dialed the numbers he was told to call.

It rang once, twice, then he heard a voice on the other side.

“I’m assuming Elizabeth Carrien came to your station if you are calling?”

“Yes sir,” the chief answered. “I told her we couldn't do anything else, and we would have to wait for more clues in Harper's disappearance.”

“Excellent. Make sure your other detectives come up empty with their cases, especially Nicholas Malcom. I have a feeling he'll be persistent. I’ll send you your payment by tonight.”

“Thank you. Have a good night, Mr. Darmine.”

Dark hanged up and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Sorry about that little dove, just had to take care of some business.”

Harper wheezed in response. Her body was sprawled out on the cement floor of her cell, covered in shallow cuts due to the bloody knife in Dark’s other hand.

“Don’t worry though, my dear. I just made sure that no one will ever take you from me. Aren’t you happy?”

Harper struggled to even breathe, but managed to respond. “Y-y-yes, s-s-ah, s-sir.”

She had learned quickly after their second encounter not to fuck with this man, and despite her best efforts to keep strong - she was a goddamn police detective in Washington DC, after all - she couldn't help but be scared. She was so, so terrified of her captor that she was forced to call her Master. She hated treating him with with such respect, but she had to make him think she was submissive enough to tell her about her brother. Also, she was tired of being in pain all the time.

“Alright,” the man clapped his hands. “Where were we? Ah, yes. You needed a little reminder about who exactly is in control of this relationship.”

He walked over to a corner where a large bucket of salt water was set. He picked it up with minimum effort, and made his way back to his captive.

“Now, my darling, next time, don’t flinch when Master touches you, alright? And I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt.”

Harper realized what was in his hands and froze. “P-p-pl-please…”

“Now, now, you know the rules. Follow exactly what I say, and you won’t get hurt. Unfortunately, you didn’t listen.”

The moment of suspense ended as he poured the entire bucket over Harper, salt seeping into her open wounds. He remained stone faced as she screamed and writhed in the ground, her entire body in pure agony. She felt like she was on fire, and moving only spread the salt further into the cuts and the blood.

Finally, it became too much and Harper passed out from the pain. Dark smiled as he knelt down to her level.

“Soon,” he said as he caressed her hair. “We can really get to know each other, little dove.”