#They both however bounce at the other to actually get a whole image on how to fix things

[system-of-a-feather]

Sharing these screenshots of a chat in relation to this post cause as much as I hate it, they (XIV and Riku) deserve the credit.

-Chunn

[lycankeyy]

Jesus Christ these doodles already feel so old . I was not lying I really am using this fixation to speedrun learning to draw humans LMAO. Anyway I made some of those silly "understand ship in 5 minutes" memes with my Favorite pairings in funkycule au not ALL of them just the ones that I brainrot hardest about. If I did one for all of them we'd be here all day I'd probably hit image limit it's called the funkycule for a reason

ANYWAY infodumping/details under the cut:

BF/GF/Pico:

I am a "BF and GF are Fucking Tall™️" truther because it's funny to me. With BF it's harder to tell because his posture is absolutely atrocious but GF is just So Fucking Tall

I'm going to be honest with the gender headcanon for BF. I guess I default to him being transmasc but I can see him as. Like. Anything. In fact I think he's just every gender. But I'm a coward so he's transmasc for the purposes of the chart. GF is a girl but identifying her as "cis" or "trans" doesn't mean much when demon genders don't really work like that. It's complicated. Pico is just a guy

Pico likes being the big spoon because he likes knowing that his partners are safe. However GF likes being the big spoon More. The result is Pico Sandwich. He will never admit it but Pico feels the safest he ever has in his entire life when he is being Pico Sandwiched

BF is very much a verbal affection type of guy. Yes he is nonverbal. His words of affection are various dubstep noises. His partners appreciate it so much

BF grew up kinda spoiled and never really learned how to cook. However after noticing that Pico is like extremely bad at feeding himself (canon six pack means nothing to me. That boy is skin and bones I won't be told otherwise /silly) he for the first time managed to convince himself to try it and he got Really into it he's actually good at it. He still loses his mind when GF makes him pb&j sammiches for dinner though it's his favorite thing in the world

Pico is Insanely overprotective mostly because he's extremely hypervigilant and sees potential danger in everything. BF is the exact opposite and even in situations where he's in immediate danger he'll be ironically more worried about Pico getting too worried about it. GF is also pretty ditzy about this due to her confidence that her boys can handle Anything but if either of them ever got hurt she would explode everyone in a 50 mile radius with her mind so like that counts for something

Random headcanon: the group's favorite date night activity is looking up an extremely bad movie and then commentating over it like old-school rage youtubers the whole time in an effort to see who can get the others to laugh the hardest. BF wins often because the flatness of the TTS voice he uses adds something to the humor of it

Pico/Darnell:

I kinda bounced around with what label to use for Darnell for a while. I definitely see him as arospec, with the stipulation that he does feel romantic attraction just like very not traditionally and after a Long Time. After going between quoiromantic and demiromantic for a bit I landed on grey bc it's open-ended enough to encompass it. The point is it took Darnell like 3 full years to realize that his feelings were less platonic than he thought and even then theyre still like. Only half-romantic lmao

Unfortunately as he cannot provide the Pico Sandwich Darnell is getting little spoon'd by a guy nearly a foot shorter than him. F

Pico and Darnell are pretty verbally coarse with each other in a way only people who've been through the amount of shit they have been together can be w/o jeopardizing their relationship. That being said they often express affection and insane amounts of trust through actions very frequently, sometimes even without either of them realizing. Them immediately making up after weekend 1 was one of those times lol

I put Pico on the "squashes the bug" end of both charts but in reality I think he just takes them outside unless it's like a gnat or something. Darnell isn't scared of bugs he just wonders what would happen if he set one on fire. Pico refuses to let him set them on fire

Even though Pico 2 is in a weird limbo state in funkycule just like it is irl, there's still some point in the timeline where Pico expressed protectiveness over Darnell, to the point where, years later, when Darnell heard Pico took down a whole army for BF and GF, he got jealous, because that was supposed to be their thing >:(. This was quickly followed by his Oh moment

Random headcanon: Pico and Darnell had been acquaintances for the whole time they were in school together, but they became friends when Pico (and Nene by proxy) were the only kids to continue hanging out with him after The Class Presentation Gone Wrong (Darnell Plays with Fire). To return the favor, Darnell stuck by Pico even after the events of PS fundamentally changed him as a person. Though their relationship can be messy, they've been virtually inseperable since.

Nene/Cassandra:

The levels of toxicity of this are mostly dependant on When in the timeline by the time these two are like 21 they've normalized a bit dw lmao

Okay so like. I've made so much Lore. For Pico's School. For no reason. Anyway penilians have nothing against child soldiers so Cas was shipped off to infiltrate Earth at the penilian equivalent of 13. Also while on a surface level she's transfem in more depth it's like "all penilians are One Sex and have One Gender so technically she is xenogender, using neopronouns, and if you want to be extra silly with it, by the time she's 19 she's functionally alienkin but for humans as a coping mechanism for being banished to earth (dw abt it)"

[Projects my trauma and its side effects onto Nene] who said that

I didn't think much on the borrowing clothes thing until I realized that I draw Nene and Cassandra wearing the same style of turtlenecks I was like. Do you know what would be really funny

I don't have many intimate cute headcanons for these two Yet because I'm so early on in developing my shit and these two are Not cute at first. However I do like to imagine that Nene calls Cas all kinds of over-the-top cutesy or stupid nicknames just to get a reaction out of her. She called her a "vixen" as a furry joke + something between a compliment and insult once and she almost died

Nene is literally the only one in this entire cast who's never gotten her license suspended also she's somewhat good at car maintence which Cas find inexplicably hot

Giggles and kicks my feet at putting both Pico and Cassandra at the far end of the overprotectiveness spectrum. Anyway

Random headcanon: in the short period of time before Cas started ghosting Nene and FNF happening, they were in contact for One Christmas when they were like 15. Nene got Cas a cute little switchblade with hearts carved into the handle. Cas keeps it in a box by her bed and refuses to let anyone touch it or to let it ever get dirty.

If you have read this far I love you. Here is your reward should you choose to accept it:

[dootznbootz]

You mentioned Telemachus having sharp Naiad teeth. Imagine if he used those teeth to take out all the suitors. With Odysseus’ help of course.

Sadly, would probably leave him open and vulnerable to attacks :'D So he probably wouldn't unless really desperate.

Sharp naiad teeth are more for "I can rip through any fish scale and bone and be fine." as an adaptation for water life than for battles between mortals. Odysseus watches so lovingly seeing his Water wife and Water son devour whole fish.

Telemachus is around 37.5% Naiad and he'd probably be using water from the canals to trip suitors. Even then, he can only work with a certain amount of water. Penelope has MUCH more control and she's kind of there as well. Imagining Odysseus seeing a bunch of dudes drowning, only to realize it's not Telemachus, itches my brain. He starts cackling and gets a special bloodlust when he realizes she's "there". It's another reason why he's so hurt when she firsts rejects him as "We were basically flirting during our dinner, you drowned some suitors. You KNOW it's me! WHY?!" but uh...He doesn't know that Athena had to tell Penelope not to drown the "stranger". She was mostly trying to make sure Telemachus stays safe and along with you know, killing the suitors now that she has "permission". There's more to it but yeah lkasjdf sounds nuts but I think it'll work.

Penelope looked him in the eye during that dinner, tears still damp on her cheeks, and says "You say all these things but My Odysseus, who fidgets with his clothing and who bounces his knees in time with my own, would never leave me weeping while he sits. He would throw his arms around me!" "...He would if he could." Then he goes to sleep outside and she's pissed and he's a mess. :D The "Beggar" looks nothing like her husband but he moves and talks just like her love, his voice unsteady as he praises her. What the fuck is going on? Basically she knows it's him but also is like "Why would he keep himself from me?" Like how Odysseus tells HER during the treebed scene

And Athena is editing her fanfiction document for these two as "You little fucks weren't supposed to be doing this! I kept your tears from falling, Odysseus, why do you have to be such a sap?! Shit! Back to the storyboard."

Anyways!!! :D

Naiads usually don't bite people unless they feel they have no other option. Odysseus is an exception as he does have ONE "special bite" from his special wife because he's a little freak who wanted it rdtfygufgh. Penelope bit Palamedes on his forearm as he held her back as he took Telemachus from Anticlea and Penelope rushed after him. Odysseus is haunted by the image of both his wife and son sobbing while her teeth are stained with blood. He gets sick pleasure seeing that scar on Palamedes' arm before he gets him killed.

And as a whole, there are actually a couple "rules" Naiad born soldiers have to follow that are very important within war.

With battle, even if you ARE naiad born, you have to ask the river god "Hey, this is getting really bad. Can we work together for this?" As River gods are usually like "I am here for your consumption, bathing, and healing. You will not use my water for violence." (Why Achilles gets his ass kicked and why Naiad born soldiers don't just "drown people")

If someone/something is attacking your river or YOU, like an animal wreaking havoc (like the big catfish! :D ) or a person trying to kill a single naiadborn, then self defense is fine. Daphne got turned into a tree because Apollo outranks nymphs and the river gods. River gods don't fuck with Olympians but he still wanted to protect her.

Though once you have your own water source (canals, vase full, etc.) you're technically free to do whatever you want with it. (Penelope loves this loophole 😈 The Palace waters are hers. and Telemachus' too but you know.)

With the war aspect, however, there are so many wounds that are like "wow, you probably have an extreme infection or should've killed you eventually". BUT it's convenient when you have Naiad born soldiers that can "heal you up" (Penelope's brothers are part of Menelaus' army btw!!! :D )

It's kind of why it's become a "If a man is still alive when they're picked up and rescued, that doesn't mean shit. A naiad born person will fix it before they even bleed out. If they don't die instantly, they just come back."

Same with fighting among nymphs btw.

Even if you're naiad born, you can't just act like how you do at home with a foreign river. Feel free to jump and swim and wet your scales but stay out of their business. If the naiads of Athens decided to punish people by poisoning the waters, you, as a Spartan naiadborn, do not meddle! Can't start purifying it to give to the citizens. Maybe for your OWN people who came with you on the foreign expedition if you ask but don't meddle with foreign river problems. Each culture is different.

Took a while for Penelope to adjust and improve relations with Ithaca naiads because of this. And when Tyndareus and Icarius were exiled, it was a culture shock for them as they're 50% naiad. Even with non-naiadborn, it's a shock. Menelaus and Agamemnon were in Sparta during their own exile had to adjust too, though Menelaus definitely fit right in. (I'm so excited to write about 18-20 year old Agamemnon's first interaction with 9 year old Penelope. It's a misunderstanding at first but it's wholesome. Spoiler: Have you ever been in a place and then a random little kid starts talking to you and then they give you a leaf or something? YEAH >:D It's that but sillier. It's cute.)

Honestly, I'm playing around a lot with the whole "Sparta being very military-focused" thing as it's really kind of fun to think of people having children with naiads/naiadborn as somewhat of a strategy. If you can't have demigods, nymph born children are still better than fully mortal ones. It's why there ARE so many naiad born and why interactions are basically informal in Sparta in my fics compared to other places. Like Ithaca.

I got really offtrack but in conclusion: There are special rules and customs of each freshwater source. And how battles are affected by it. Telemachus doesn't bite any of the suitors but probably uses water to help him and to heal his and Eumeaus' wounds.

[kunikinnie]

a/n: i was reading a shoujo manga for... research purposes and there was this portion... ye

warnings: profanity, mentions of sexual harrassment

reacting to you going to a mixer/group date

featuring: Ranpo, Akutagawa, Kunikida x GN!Reader

Edogawa Ranpo

He's annoyed as hell. Not at the fact that you were indeed going to a mixer, but rather that he knew that your intention was to make him jealous and it's working.

Fine, have it your way. You're old enough to do what you want and he's mature enough not to be too affected by it. Besides, there's no reason for Ranpo to be - you're in love with him anyway, so why worry?

It still doesn't lessen the bitter taste in his mouth, though. Seriously you're just wasting time.

He'll bitch about it openly for days until the mixer. That includes questioning your life choices, trash talking men in general, and actively sulking in his desk.

After the date, however, he'll be the quietest he's ever been. He both observes you intently and avoids thinking about you at the same time. Did you really enjoy it that much? Did- did you no longer like him the way you used to? The answer to that is something he's not ready to determine for himself, even if it's clear as day that you still love him very much. His brain's a jumbled mess that he's not sure if he keeps second-guessing himself.

Depending on how you act, he might semi-accidentally confront/confess to you after that.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

He has never been to one nor has even entertained the idea of it, so when he learned of it he was not sure what to feel.

It's not exactly the same as dating, right? So if it was just harmless, commitment-less fun then he wouldn't question it further.

It's when he hears of the harassment that can occur when his anger soars.

Yes, he's confident in your abilities, but to subject yourself to it? Why do that? All for the slim chance of finding a potential partner? Are you that desperate?

To constantly seek approval and appreciation... he knows that feeling all too well and he'd hate for you to endure the same fate.

He'll actually try and stop you from going. He's that worried.

(Or the image of lewd men ogling all over you is just so exaggerated in his head that even Akutagawa wonders why the heck you'd choose those fiends over him.)

Whether or not you go is still up to you, of course. But if you do go, there is a small chance that he will be nearby... just in case he's needed, you know?

If he finds out there's someone you liked even by just a little bit, he'll emotionally and literally distance himself from you. He just can't handle it.

Otherwise, the weight lifted from his mind relieves him by a ton. Not that he'll do anything new to get closer to you, unfortunately, but perhaps he takes a step closer to that.

Kunikida Doppo

You're free to do as you please, so he says nothing and pretends to be cool with it all. Deep inside, however, a million thoughts bounce in his mind all the while.

Was it a sign that you weren't into him? If it was, then could he still do something to change your mind? Or will doing that harm your relationship even more?

Now Kunikida never considered himself to be the attractive sort of guy, but he's not half bad, wasn't he? Hidden insecurities suddenly surface and he gets all anxious.

Being the open book that he is these feelings will seep out during work. Maybe he'll be a little less patient, a little more irritable, and definitely a little sad. As long as the whole affair isn't shoved into his face by you and especially by that idiot, he wouldn't burst.

The way he copes with it is he runs over his ideal partner list and tells himself that maybe you weren't meant for each other (and other bs) in order to convince himself it's nothing he should be affected by.

And yet the moment you walk by he knows he's deeply affected. Damn he liked you this much? Enough to burn that whole list and every similar thought to the ground? Yes. Yes he did.

He'll be available for you if you need him. Do you need someone to rant/cry to after the mixer? Then feel free to call him. Need someone to gush about it without judgement? It hurts, but again he'll be there. Need someone to kick some sketchy dude's ass? Then hell yes, he'll be ready to help you.

The way he reacts to you after the event depends on yours. just like Akutagawa. But unlike him he wouldn't leave your side, even only as a friend, since his loyalty to you surpasses any hurt he may have.

[rabbitcruiser]

International Bat Night 

Find the nearest bat habitat and see if you can spot some of these eco-system-sustaining, adorable, awe-inspiring flying critters on International Bat Night.

Bats have many places in literature and history, and serve roles both dark and hilarious depending on where you find them. Probably the most common association with the bat is with vampires, but there is also the fun-loving bat from Ferngully (Batty Coda) along with a host of other characters from literature and cinema. But bats have an important role to play in our eco-system, and some of them are becoming endangered. International Bat Night serves to raise awareness from our flying rodent friends and why they deserve to be protected.

Learn about International Bat Night

International Bat Night is a date that takes place every year to celebrate these creatures, with a number of different bat events taking place around the world for the public to get involved with. These events give you the opportunity to help bat conservation and to learn more about these creatures. There are talks at dusk and fun bat walks; it is definitely the sort of activity you should experience at least once, as it will give you a unique opportunity to get up close and personal with these incredible animals and to learn more about them.

Incredible facts about bats

When we say that bats are incredible creatures, we do not expect you to simply take our word for it. After all, bats are the only mammals that can fly. They also use echolocation in order to get around during the night. As you probably know, bats do most of their living when it is dark and they cannot see very well. Because of this, they need to depend on other navigational skills, instead of sight. They send out beeps, listening for variations in the echoes that bounce back in order to understand where they are and to get around effectively.

Bats have gotten a bit of a bad reputation over the years. However, most of this is unjustified. A lot of people think that bats, especially those in North America, go around infecting people with rabies and a whole host of other toxins and diseases. This is something that has merely become a rumor because of the television and movies. In fact, bats avoid people, and only 10 people in the last 50 years have contracted rabies from North American bats. If you are one of the incredibly unlucky ones to get bitten by a bat, make sure you go to see your doctor as soon as possible, but don’t panic, bats really aren’t as scary as it is made out in the films! Vampire bats also don’t suck blood, contrary to popular belief. Okay, they do lap it up, but calm down! There are actually only three species of vampire bats across the globe.

History of International Bat Night

International Bat Night was established to help promote the good image of bats, and to help start creating some clarity on the facts about them above and beyond the rumors and Hollywood image. While we often think of bats as nocturnal predators feasting on the blood of the innocent and harboring rabies, the truth is quite different. Yes, there are bats that feed on blood, but they mostly feed on insects and believe us, you want bats to be out there patrolling the night and helping eliminate them.

Bats are one of the major contributors to keeping down obnoxious night insects like mosquitoes, and if you’re a camper, you know how unpleasant mosquitoes can make an otherwise pleasant camping expedition. There are also bats that feed on nectar and fruit, and actually help to pollinate and spread the seed of plants, in many cases they’re the only ones working to help those plants procreate!

These are just the beginnings of the wonders that bats possess, and there is far more just a flicker away, and International Bat Night is a great time to spend learning about them!

How to celebrate International Bat Night

One of the best ways to spend International Bat Night is by enjoying the quiet of night and watching the skies in your nearest bat habitat. Maybe it’s a night out in the woods, or just sitting on your front porch if you’re fortunate enough!

If you’re feeling both generous and adventurous, you can head out to one of your local Bat Conservatories and celebrate the night with them while making a contribution to their work. Really love bats? Volunteer with these conservatories and help keep our flying rodent friends around!

We also recommend spending a bit of time online, reading up about bats, and finding out more about these incredible creatures. Of course, we have given you some information, but there is so much else to learn. You can also help to spread awareness by sharing some of the information you find with your friends and family members on social media.

Another way to celebrate International Bat Night is by watching a Batman movie. You also have the Batman and Batwomen TV series as well. If you are a fan of superhero movies, this is definitely one of the best ways to celebrate this date. There are a lot of other films too, with many vampire-based films incorporating bats, such as Le Vampire and Dracula. So, get the popcorn out and enjoy yourself!

Source

[juniperhillpatient]

The Earth King Re-Watch

This was a fun episode. I wouldn't call it one of my favorites, but I enjoyed it. Seeing Aang & Appa finally reunited is pretty heartwarming. I was a little annoyed & confused by Sokka's random new "positive attitude" even though he had some really endearing moments in this episode. I just don't get it. Yeah, Appa is back but you just discovered an underground creepy brainwashing cult & your old frienemy was killed? You have no reason to believe you're any closer to convincing King Kuei to hear you out? I can see the whole "brand new positive attitude" thing happening once the other good news hits later, but right at the start? It just felt jarring & weird.

Katara saying she wants to leave this horrible place....I will take my "Jet's death mattered" crumbs where I can get them. I think Katara & Toph's idea to leave makes a lot of sense, but so does Sokka & Aang's desire to force Kui to hear them out...I mean, they are trying to plan this attack on the eclipse...So, that was a well-set-up conflict, because both sides make sense. I also absolutely loved the fight scene with the Gaang breaking into the palace! Everything about it was iconic. It was neat to see Aang use earth-bending in a fight against earth-benders too because he usually relies heavily on air-bending. I loved Katara & Sokka apologizing lmao - & Toph saying Kue's distrust after they broke in made sense.

Kue is a bit pathetic & easily pushed around so I'm not a huge fan of him. Bumi has a chaotic morality & he's not always the most LIKABLE person but at least he's fun so I always enjoy him. Kue is just pathetic, & not even in the hot way lol

Possibly the best part of the episode was Katara telling Sokka that he gets to see their dad & Sokka bouncing around in excitement & hugging her & kissing her while she's just like "yeah yeah, I know, I'm great."

[ID: Sokka saying "Nicest....sister...ever!" to Katara while Aang & Toph watch.]

Also, the Gaang talking about how they will miss each other while they're split up was really cute. I loved the group hug & Sokka like "alright alright, we love each other" trying to end the hug was such a mood - me when friends or family try to get all touchy-feely lol! Sokka gets 10 iconic behavior points for interrupting Aang before he could confess his crush on Katara. I wish I was giving out jerk points so I could give them to Aang for the line "yeah, girls are waiting for us." Ugh, pushing the Katara/Aang agenda before Jet's body is even cold? The writers deserve jerk points for that tbh! Not even Aang really, 'cause he's just a kid with a crush, but I'm still allowed to be annoyed.

Anyway. Zuko gets 500 iconic behavior points for doing one nice thing in his entire life & immediately collapsing like a Victorian maiden. Zuko you drama queen, ily. However, while I've said this re-watch has made me appreciate Zukaang I MEANT the romantic ship Zuko & Aang NOT this monstrosity that lives in my nightmares.

[id: a horrifying image of Zuko & Aang's faces combined.]

What the fuck lmao

As for the rest of Zuko's dreams.....Very interesting lines from Azula & a very interesting performance from our lord & savior Grey Delisle. I will say nothing more about that :)

[id: Dennis from It's Always Sunny saying "because of the implication..."]

Anyway *ahem* right, I think Zuko clearly sees his father & sister as sort of devils & Iroh as an angel on his shoulder. This is what the writers were going for, & an unpopular opinion maybe but I think it works to an extent. The biggest issue here is that Zuko continues until the end of the series to treat Iroh like a messiah of good & he never learns to view Azula with any more nuance despite evidence that Iroh is not perfect & Azula is not irredeemable. Another issue I take is that while I love Azula as the embodiment of the Fire Nation & that darker path here, especially right before Crossroads of Destiny, & I actually find the shifting of the blame about Ursa's disappearance & by extension Zuko's bad childhood from Ozai to Azula super interesting - it's again, just something that's never addressed as wrong by the narrative & therefore becomes frustrating.

[id: Azula as a blue dragon next to a scarless Zuko]

I would have liked to see Zuko's black & white way of thinking about his uncle & sister (which is just really obvious here with the angel & devil motifs) addressed by the narrative. However, I don't think the whole "two sides arguing for different paths through dream visions" in itself is bad. It's certainly fun to watch & makes for a nice visualization of Zuko's internal struggle. Oh, Zuko & Azula get +500 iconic behavior points for foreshadowing the Crossroads of Destiny betrayal. I know it's just a fever dream version of Azula, but she still gets the points.

Oh, & Azula, Mai & Ty Lee get 1000 points each for their Kyoshi Warrior surprise reveal at the end. I love them so fucking much.

Anyway, that's all I have for this episode! Tune in next time for more rambling thoughts on the kid's cartoon!

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

[ijustwant2write]

Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts​)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight​ @amirahiddleston​

Requested by @husherstan​ : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name   

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)  

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate. 

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him. 

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes. 

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me. 

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway. 

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

[malfoysstilinski]

Hello love, I absolutely adore your writing. <3 Could you maybe do a tooth-rotting dracoxreader fluff. It can be anything, I just love soft draco sm haha. Tbh I feel like theres no such thing as too much soft draco asjdkhfask.

thank you so much!! hope this is okay :)) 

post shower | draco malfoy (fluff) 

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you like picking out draco’s clothes for him and playing with his hair after he’s had a shower. and he’ll never admit it, but he likes it too.

warnings: extremely healthy relationship and soft!draco

word count: 1.9k

a/n: there’s a part where draco plays with your hair and i’m sorry if it’s not inclusive to yours (curly, afro-textured, braided etc.), i generally try to keep my imagines inclusive but this idea was just stuck in my head!! it’s quite brief but i thought i’d acknowledge that i realise some poc readers and others with curly hair just might not be able to relate and i’m really sorry about that!! :( but again, it doesn’t make up the whole imagine! <33

also not proof-read!! 

....

18.00. my dorm. prepare for cuddles.

my mother sent over some more of

those sweets you said you liked.

yours, draco

The ripped piece of parchment in your hand included an inked sketch beneath it; the image of a wrapped sweetie surrounded by some scribbled-out love hearts. Your heart skipped a beat at the message written in Draco’s usual rushed cursive, a small smile threatening to twitch at the corners of your lips. Glancing up towards the direction the charmed crane had come in, you sent the blond boy already watching you a small nod of confirmation.

A wink was your reward before he turned back to face Professor Snape at the front of the classroom. It made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies as you wondered how you’d ended up with a boyfriend as perfect as Draco Malfoy.

Not many would theorise that he was a secret romantic, but then again, not many truly knew Draco for who he actually was. You adored him - the way he looked, the way he smelled, how he loved you, his voice, his laugh, his jokes, and his sarcastic comments. If there was one person on the planet guaranteed to make you smile, it was the Malfoy heir.

You were thrilled to be invited back to his dorm, even if this was quite a regular occurrence that you probably should be more used to by now. The thought of spending the evening after a long day of lessons with Draco cuddled up on his bed eating sweets sent by his mother sounded like a dream come true. There was no other way you’d rather spend your time.

The rest of the day couldn’t have gone by slower, though. You finished your classes and then skipped dinner to shower, knowing you’d be stuffing your face later anyway. By the time you’d slipped on comfier clothes than your school uniform and had dried your hair, it was nearly time for you to head to Draco’s dormitory. He was lucky enough to have his own one as a prefect, with a huge bed and silk green sheets that felt amazing against your skin.

You did some last minute homework for your Herbology class in the morning, though your mind seemed to constantly drag back to your boyfriend. He was like some sort of drug and you clearly had an addiction.

Perhaps the best part was that the love she had for Draco was mirrored back onto her by the boy; their love was a redamancy to be jealous of. Students and teachers alike could see the adoration in their eyes when they looked at each other. They saw the grin on your face and the slight blush on Draco’s cheeks and knew that if what you two had wasn’t love, then love didn’t exist at all.

You had your ups and downs, of course you did. No relationship was ever always perfect. However, it was the way you were constantly able to bounce back and be stronger than before that kept the fire burning between the two of you. It was the way that Draco had worked on his communication, knowing it was the only way he’d be able to keep you, and how you’d worked on being more patient with him that meant the two of you could fall so indescribably in love.

So when you turned up to Draco’s dormitory at exactly 6 pm sharp, you opened the door without knocking, more than certain he wouldn’t mind. He never did. However, Draco was nowhere to be seen in his room. You thought maybe you’d managed to read the note wrong until you heard the running water coming from his bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you headed towards his bed, dropping on top of the silky sheets you loved so much, your fingers tracing on top of it. Your ears strained to listen out for Draco, a deep hum filling your ears that you knew belonged to him. He had a good singing voice, but he refused to believe it whenever you told him.

You closed your eyes and listened as he hummed in the shower, his voice echoing off the walls in a way that had you wishing you could not only listen but watch him sing it. You weren’t sure when Draco stopped humming or when the water shut off, but the next thing you knew, the bathroom door was opening, steam rolling out as well as the scent of his green apple shampoo.

“Ah, darling,” Draco greeted upon seeing you lying on his bed.

You sat up, beaming at him. A white towel hung around his hips, his platinum hair wet on his head and dripping down his broad shoulders onto his platinum skin. You thought he looked beautiful like this, like some sort of God you’d like to worship. Especially with the smile that he wore upon his face, one that was reserved for you and you only.

“Hi, my love,” you said back, watching as he began to hunt through his drawers for something to wear. “You said six.”

“I must have lost track of time,” Draco admitted, “Cold days are meant for hot showers, you know.”

“No, cold days are meant for cuddles with your girlfriend,” you protested, but nevertheless scooted off the bed to join him by his dresser. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Y’wanna dress me up again, don’t you?” Draco acted as if he was annoyed, but a smile was threatening to tug at his lips.

“It’ll be cosy, ‘promise,” you replied, your hands moving through his dresser, hunting for the pair of black jogging bottoms that you liked on him. “Top or no?”

“No,” Draco replied as he stood in front of his mirror, towel drying his hair.

You found a pair of socks for him too, knowing how he hated if his feet got cold. As Draco cast a charm to dry his blond locks, you settled everything on the end of his bed for him and then began hunting through his drawers once more. You found one of his black tees and pulled your own off, shrugging his on instead.

Arms wrapped around your waist as soon as it went over your head and you shrieked as you were hauled onto his bed. You laughed as Draco suddenly crawled between your legs so he was straddling you a little, his fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Did I say you could wear that, pretty girl?” Draco fauxed a glare.

“Please,” you pouted at him. “It’s comfy and smells so good. Like you.”

Draco rolled his eyes in amusement, smiling again as he kissed your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous. Can’t say no when you pull that face, can I?”

You beamed, feeling your cheeks heat up a little bit. You realised Draco had already pulled the joggers and socks on, his top half naked as he moved to grab his comb off of the dresser.

“Let me do it for you,” you said, holding your hand out.

Draco shot you a look. “Not a doll for you to dress up, you know.”

“‘Just wanna comb your hair for you,” you huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the mattress.

Draco moved to stand in between them, your face level with his body as he began to brush the comb through the back of your own hair. Smiling, you leaned your head against his stomach, wrapping your arms around his middle and enjoying the sensations and tingles that Draco brushing your hair spread through your body.

Your eyes closed and you swore you could fall asleep like it - one of his large palms on your back, his comb brushing through your hair, the warmth of his toned stomach against your cheek and the smell of his aftershave and body wash fresh in your senses.

“You washed your hair, didn’t you?” Draco hummed, his hand moving off your back as he ditched the comb, his fingers playing with it.

“Yeah, had a shower before I came here,” you murmured, not peeling your eyes open, just relishing in the feeling of complete relaxation with your favourite person in the entire world.

“I can tell,” Draco murmured, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your newly-combed hair. “Your hair is really soft after washing it.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling a little against him. “That’s kind of the point of washing your hair, you know.”

“No, it’s to keep it clean,” Draco protested.

“It’s for both,” you compromised, knowing how stubborn he could get quickly. “Now can I comb your hair.”

About a minute later, Draco’s room was playing music quietly and he was slouched between your legs on the bed, the bag of sweets his mother had bought you both on his lap. Your back rested against the headboard behind you, your hands brushing through his silky platinum locks. You put the comb down, beginning to part his hair into tiny sections.

“Sweet?” Draco offered, his mouth full as he lifted his arm behind himself.

He felt you lean forwards and capture the sweet between your teeth from where your hands were occupied in his hair, making him chuckle. Draco knew you were making small plaits with the longer sections of his hair, but he closed his eyes and pretended he had no idea. To be honest, he cherished the feeling of you being so close to him, of your hands in his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp every now and then.

“Feels good?” You hummed, glancing down at him and seeing that his silver eyes had shut.

They flickered back open at your question, smiling when he saw you looking down at him. “A bit,” he admitted, which was an under exaggeration. He loved it.

“‘Nother sweetie, please,” you called as you moved onto your third tiny plait.

Draco’s hand came back over and fed the sweet straight into your mouth. You giggled as you carried on plaiting, humming lightly to yourself. A tug a little harder than the rest caused Draco to dramatically cry out.

“Ow!” Draco hissed, “Watch what you’re doing, woman!”

“Shh, I’m just braiding your hair,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “And if you call me woman like that one more time I will shove this comb so far up your arse-”

“Okay, okay,” Draco winced at the imagery. “By woman I meant ‘my lovely, beautiful, sweet, kind, intelligent girlfriend who I love with my whole heart’.”

“You’re such a kiss arse, Malfoy,” you replied, running your hand over the small plaits you’d created. “They look cute. You should grow your hair out like your father so I can do really good ones-”

“Y/N!” Draco grimaced, “If I ever grow my hair out as long as my fathers, feel free to cut it off for me in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you cradled his head in your lap, your nails lightly scratching his skin. “Okay, okay. I like you with this haircut anyway. And I like the lack of gel in it. Looks so fluffy and cute.”

“Not what I’m going for, but thanks, darling,” Draco remarked, grabbing another sweet for himself. “You’re comfy, by the way.”

You simply hummed back as you began to undo the plaits, knowing Draco would be annoyed if you forgot and he had little curly bits in the morning. You grazed your fingers back through, watching his eyes flicker back.

“I love you,” Draco murmured sincerely. “So much.”

Your heart swelled. “I love you too, Draco.”

taglist: @lolooo22 @yyoflam @fjorelaant @cpetrova @bby-gxrnet @draysslytherclaw @dawnmalfoy @miarivic @hpotter3390 @justfangirlthingies @fleurwands @hufflepuffsophie @riddleswh0r3crux @dracosathenaeum @weaselbrownie @Dracoscumwh0re @miraclesoflove @wh0re4blaise @ilovemoviekidd826 @drarrysimp @secret-obsessions @writeandtranslate @aetheralist @wholebigboxofyikes @honeyloverogers @icecubewhat @edithreads @abbott27 @Sweetvnlla @skaratjung @dlmmdl @sw33tgirl @ayaosk @acosmis-t @astoria-malfcy 

[bay-did-nothing-wrong]

Tell All (Donatello x Reader)

Synopsis: Don and the Reader had been hiding their relationship from his family but they decide its finally time to come clean.

Genre: Fluff mostly, some crack, literally one sex pun

Word count: 1946

Soft.

So soft.

Wasn't his skin supposed to be rougher all together? How were his lips so soft and smooth then? Just another mystery.

Your mouths split with a tiny wet sound, but neither of you was in a rush to go anywhere.

But you should have been.

"Dinner's ready!" came Mikey's energetic shout from somewhere withing the lair. Probably the kitchen.

A soft longing sigh left your lips, and you felt a warm current of air hit your face - Don felt the same.

"We should go." you state, convincing yourself as much as him.

"Do we have to?" he whined breathlessly.

Yes, yes, you did. And he knew that. You both did. Otherwise his brothers and his very observant father will notice you're acting suspicious. They'll probably figure out he wasn't just helping you study for that AP Statistics exam. That is, if they hadn't already.

Your hands slid down his shoulders in an attempt to separate you two but instead they fell onto the top of his plastron, thumbs running softly over the last uncovered skin there, where you knew he was sensitive.

"Hmmm..." it came out as a low growl and it surrounded you on all sides. "You're not helping."

"Am I ever?"

"DONNIE! (Y/N)! DINNER!" at least Mikey stuck to the strict "No entering during study-sessions" rules. That's good to know that he can be intimidated into compliance. Or blackmailed... Point is, it worked.

Donnie's head falls in defeat, forehead leaning on yours for support.

So glad he took those goggles off. You can see more of him this way.

He sighed again, defeated - he was too smart to not figure out that at some point your behavior will raise suspicion. His head lifted back, and turned to the door.

"Coming!"

And your cheeky ass giggled at that.

"Oh, Donnie." you teased, "I haven't even started."

"Pfft. " chuckle, and a snort.

He really did like your dirty puns.

The man took your hand into his cool giant one, somehow providing comfort like no other, as he pulled you to the lab entrance. But once at the door you had to split. It's part of the arrangement.

His family shouldn't know about you.

You two decided at the early stage of your budding romance that keeping the whole thing on the down-low for a while was the smartest choice. It would prevent his brother's jealousy, it won't incite any fights, it won't change their relationship with you and you'll get to feel things out at your own pace - no pressure or prying eyes.

Just you.

But there was a list of downsides too. For one, neither of you was a great actor, Don was even shit at lying, so you'd had to take extra steps to remain as friendly-looking as possible. Then there was the trying-to-set-you-up-with-Vern thing that April was doing and every time the topic came up you could act regular-disgusted but not in-a-happy-relationship disgusted, and so would your favourite turtle. And then there was the hiding, coveting each other in the lab or in small stolen moments in the lair, and the lying about going topside to do recon or install something somewhere, the covering up - no, of course Donnie wasn't with you at your place, he must have gone somewhere else.

You were quite honestly sick of it. You were ready to tell his brothers. You were ready to tell the world.

"We should tell them." his voice was once again low, quiet as if to preserve the last few moments of the secret to yourselves.

Once again you were entirely in sync despite being vastly different.

He was a genius, you, decidedly, weren't.

He was really into sports, you weren't.

He was a 6'8 ninja turtle raised underground by a rat dad, and you obviously were not.

And yet somehow, you clicked.

"I agree."

At that point you knew that your approval would kick into gear the most destructive process in Donnie's mind - overthinking.

Your hand immediately darted out and grabbed one of his pulling it up to your lips and kissing the knuckles in reassurance.

"We'll figure it out."

But still, you had to split. Even if you did plan to tell them, there would be a time and a place for that.

"What took you so long? The lasagna got cold." Mikey was positively outraged - as much as he could be - by your lack of interest in his usually excellent cooking.

"Sorry, Mikey." you butted in, trying to save the day, "There's just something about Inferential Statistical Analysis that I can't wrap my head around." Bullshit, you knew exactly what it was and how it worked - it's part of the basics but he didn't need to know that.

"Still smells great though!" Don sounds cheerful enough even though you'd just agreed to break the fragile peace in your relationship just a minute prior. He was getting really good at the lying part. Too bad it won't be needed for much longer.

Dinner was as uneventful as it can be around five mutant ninjas. Master Splinter asked about your day, you told him about the nearing finals season and he offered some comforting words after which the conversation bounced around the rest of the family in a natural progression.

Once you were full, and once all of Mikey's delicious food had been virtually inhaled by the four giant men around you, you got up to get the dishes to the kitchen and help clean up. It was only fair, after all.

Apparently it was Ralph's turn to wash dishes and there was no wiggling out of that because Splinter said so. Well, at least you can dry them.

And dry them you did, meanwhile casual conversation about whatever kept flowing and you figured you won't be able to go back to the lab and do some more 'Statistics'.

You were just drying and putting away the last plate when a thiqq arm stretched over your head to reach a cupboard you couldn't even get to in your dreams.

Your head whipped back, eyes landing straight on some hard looking chest plates under a pair of suspenders. And then you looked up and saw Donatello, the cheeky shit, with a pop tart in his mouth and a shit-eating grin around it.

"Oops, sorry, (Y/N), didn't see you there."

Oh, I'll give you Oops, didn't see me, my ass. You'll see.

He was being unusually open about his closeness to you and that was less then an hour after you'd decided to come clean.

He was ready then.

"I was planning on checking out the meatpacking District tomorrow." Leo was going on about that idea he had to check out some building or another, Mikey was wiping down the table, and Raph was finishing up the dishes, and for once Don was just there chilling.

His treat was gone, meaning he ate it all, he seemed relaxed, his shoulders loose and shell leaning on the wall.

No time like the present.

"You guys, I'm gonna head out. I've got work tomorrow and after that I've got a study group to attend so, I should head to bed."

"You need us to walk you home?" Leo asked more out of courtesy, he knew you lived close and would usually decline.

"No, no, that's okay." you replied, looking for your bag and jacket where you'd left them near the kitchen table.

"Aaaw, you're leaving already? Well, at least you ate." Mikey quickly swept you into a hug goodbye and turned back to sorting his ingredients in the cupboards.

"Thanks to you, Mikey Steward." to which he giggled in response.

"See you tomorrow, shorty." Raph waved as he turned to get a beer from the fridge.

"Stay safe out there, okay?" Leo always the guardian, warned you for the hundredth time, again just out of courtesy.

And then you walked to where Don was leaning on the wall, took his chin in your hand and pulled him down.

Oh, shit, am I actually gonna do this!?

Your lips met, your heart pounded, the room became super hot and that wasn't just because of the brilliant piece of man-candy in your hands. You could feel their eyes but then again that was the whole point.

A loud dramatic intake of air was heard, a drop of something metallic and then silence.

Your face pulled away from him, eyes opening slightly to look at him, as your weight fell back onto your heels from standing on your tiptoes. His face had that same dazed, satisfied-yet-hungry look that he usually had whenever you'd had to break apart.

He tasted so sweet, you just had to lick your lips at the memory.

"I'll see you tomorrow." you whispered, that was all you could force out in that moment.

"See you tomorrow." his voice was as soft as yours even though his brothers could probably hear.

You fully pulled away from your man, now certain that there'd be no secrets between you and the ninja clan.

You were not an actor, you quickly got embarrassed with your performance, however brilliant it may have been, and speedily scammed to pick up your belongings and jogged outta there.

You turned one last time, because something in you said you should and what you saw was truly a sight.

All three of Don's bothers with their mouths hanging open and Splinter peeking out of the door to the dojo with his eyes like saucers and then there's Donnie - the image of peace, hands in his pockets, a soft smile on his lips, now shiny from your lip gloss, and looking you straight in the eye as you retreated.

"Bye." you shout to no one in particular and scramble for the exit.

-_-_-_-_-

Phone - charging

Alarm - set

Pajamas - on

What's missing then?

Ding!

Your phone notified you that someone was requesting your attention and you were more than happy to find out it was your man.

'Hey, Laika' Oh lord it so got you giggling like a schoolgirl when he called you that.

'Hey, Tyson' and then he told you that he loved to be compared with the biggest name in astrophysics today.

'How did it go?' you felt super bad for bailing on him but at the same time there was this relief that came with the cat being out of the bag.

'Surprisingly well. No one was mad that we kept it a secret.' well, that's good. You won't have to jeopardize your relationship with the boys. 'Dad still wants to talk to you tho'

Ah, well, that's to be expected. Even though Donnie is an adult, the were still a very tightly knit family unit so, you supposed that something like that would be a pretty big deal.

'That's fine, I'd do whatever'

'I wish I could kiss you rn'

It honestly shocked you how chill about it he was. Probably because he wasn't being grilled for information anymore, neither of you would have to lie anymore, and because he could now tell Vern to fuck right off, with no worry about how it would look.

You were so looking forward to being solely and entirely his.

'Tomorrow we start anew'

He had a point, things would change. But hopefully not between you.

'Can't wait to meet you for the first time again lol' you didn't know if you were being funny or just cheesy but it felt right.

Despite your smile, your eyes started drooping, your breaths slowing and you felt the exhaustion of the day slowly hug you like a blanket.

'Goodnight'

'Goodnight, (Y/N)'

[elfdragon12]

Okay, so I had intended to focus on Brawl as Brawl is the most relevant to Tracks and Needlenose, but then Vortex hopped on his back and demanded to get drawn too, citing the fact there wasn't enough screen time in the comics. As everything I see of them comes off as pretty sibling-like, I thought it fit.

And yeah, I decided Vortex is a woman for my take on humanformers. I realized I was developing a whole cast and not a single woman was in it. So Vortex gets to be a feminine ball of gremlin energy.

The image above is referencing this scene:

More info about them below the cut (update: Vortex's history has been changed a bit):

Vortex, Victoria Noknoi, started life in a small apartment with only her mother as family. However, at about the age of 4, her mother came down sick, barely able to do any work and certainly not able to take care of a child. After some heartbreak, Victoria was surrendered to Child Services in the hopes that the mother would eventually recover and be able to reunite.

However, that never happened.

Whether or not her mother recovered, Victoria never learned. She was shuffled about and got lost in the system, bouncing from home to home. Had her mother ever managed to recover, finding Victoria again would have been an immense struggle. Instead she was raised within the foster care system.

Into her teenage years, she met one young Ukrainian-American boy brought into the foster care system named Bodhan Pavlovych Bondaruk whose parents had been caught in the crossfire of the police and local gang members. As they both were directionless teenagers, they were "volunteered" for a sort of military youth outreach program (I mean, they're in the US, so like JROTC)... It was kind of successful because it gave them direction... But also kind of not as it allowed some of their worst tendencies to grow. Vortex, as her call sign came to be, found she was actually pretty darn good at driving (despite all the cracks about her needing a booster seat). Brawl, as others called him, was excellent at throwing people around and even had some great aim at the shooting range.

Once of age, they were both registered as official members of the US Army. They were assigned to one Orlando Hart, who had the call sign Onslaught. Orlando didn't mind their personalities so much, not taking too long to figure out when to rein them in and when to let them wreck havoc. They enjoyed it, especially as their squad leader was pretty smart and (as Bodhan found out the hard way) not too shabby in hand-to-hand combat himself.

... And then Orlando made a proposition to them. Either hang around the military until it chews them up and spits them out dead or defect with him and they'll do whatever kind of mercenary jobs they want for the highest bidder. Neither Bodhan or Victoria thought too hard about it before agreeing. They'd both been under the thumb of government authority for too long and wanted to stretch their metaphorical wings outside of that influence.

(As an extra aside: Victoria is ace. You wouldn't know it from how she talks, but she only wants to get down and dirty in the battlefield, not in your pants. She and Bodhan had a short period of experimentation and she found that sex was just not for her.)

[detectivehannibal]

Desk Dreams

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut...lol have fun.

A/N: Testing my smut writing skills I see...I tried to weasel Will into this, but I’d hardly consider this a Will oneshot. I struggled so hard with this smh.

Requested by: @no-homo-hank

Prompt: also.. if i may request something sm*tty. personally i think your writing is so good. soo maybe something in his office yk yk like if the reader has a *sexy* dream about him,, and she has to tell him,, idk idk and only if you’re comfortable with it ofc! thanks :)

Word Count: 1,697

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?”

__

You couldn’t get it out of your head. The images, the sounds, the touches, the smells. You had tried to shake it off all morning. You had brewed an extra strong cup of coffee hoping to rid your conscious of the less than appropriate dream from the night before, but to no avail. You never really had dreams, and you especially didn’t have such scandalous ones. On top of that, you definitely never had sex dreams about your therapist. 

Sure, you found him attractive in more ways than just his striking intelligence. However, the thought of anything that wasn’t purely professional had never crossed your mind. You knew what Hannibal thought about dreams. He had mentioned to you before that they are often a crucial tell-tale of a person’s mental state most of the time. That was the part you couldn’t figure out.

What did having such a racy dream mean for you?

You pondered the thought on your way to your session. You desperately wished that you didn’t have to go today, but you knew you’d be questioned about it next session if you canceled. You entered his office’s waiting room, there were no other patients at that time. You weren’t surprised, considering most people tried to push for the afternoon appointments. You took your normal seat, knowing that Dr. Lecter and Will Graham would be finished shortly. Will Graham’s appointments were always before yours, and you always noted how Will always looked as if his brain had been completely picked apart when he exited.

You often wondered what sort of things they talked about.

Sure enough, the door opened a few minutes later, Hannibal seeing Will out of his office. 

“I will see you soon, Will.” Hannibal said to Will, who had pretty much already ended the conversation. 

Will spotted you waiting and actually offered a smile. He didn’t know you outside of the waiting room, but well enough to know your name and speak to you.

“Hello, [Y/N],” He greeted, leaning in slightly; “He’s acting strangely today.” He whispered.

You gave him a confused look, but returned the greeting before he dashed off and out of the building. What did he mean by “acting strangely”? There was only one way to find out. 

“[Y/N], are you ready?” Hannibal asked, inviting you into his office.

You nodded, entering swiftly. When you passed by him, a familiar scent enriched your nose. The smell of his cologne was exquisite and suddenly sparked your memory of the dream from the night before. So that was what you smelled in the dream. You had never paid attention to it before. 

Speaking of the dream, it was suddenly all you could think about. You sat in one of his chairs, immediately striking Hannibal as out of character. He decided to hold off on mentioning it yet. 

“Good morning. How are you?” He asked, sitting in the chair in front of you.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you found yourself in a trance, raking over his features. Had his hair always been so nice? Were his eyes always so enticing? You caught his gaze, waiting for you to give an answer.

“Huh? Oh! I’m doing well.” You said, beginning to feel a heat creep over your cheeks.

His hand briefly went up to his collar to readjust his tie. You basically stopped yourself from salivating. His hands were...so perfect. 

“You’re nervous.” He announced.

You denied. You denied hard. You would not let him through to you today. You’d die of embarrassment.

“Nope. Not nervous,” You said, visibly nervous; “What makes you say that?”

His expression was calculating. He was soaking you up like a sponge to sink water, taking everything in to be squeezed out again.

“For starters, you’re sitting. You usually walk around during our sessions,” He noted; “Secondly, your entire demeanor is tense.” 

Your leg stopped bouncing and you slowly stood from your chair, you began to try and walk as you normally did, but it ended up being more of a pace. 

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?” You asked as casually as possible.

He looked so good in that light blue shirt. 

“No, but there’s always a reason for such change.” He bantered.

You shot him a look. It was hard to get anything past him. 

“I just...” You tried to come up with an excuse, but turned up short. 

He waited patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. You sighed in defeat. 

“Dreams are normal, right?” You asked, preparing to bite the bullet.

He nodded simply.

“Certainly.” 

You chewed your lip in thought, careful with how you approached this. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater.

“I had a rather interesting dream last night,” You confessed; “It wasn’t anything I had ever experienced.”

He was listening intently, not quite following what you were getting at.

“What did you dream about?” He prompted.

You felt a sudden rise in your throat. This was painful to admit.

“Well, you were in me- uh, I mean...in it.” You said, mentally cursing at yourself for your embarrassing slip up.

A wave of realization was clear on his face as he connected the dots. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.

“[Y/N], I can assure you that sexual fantasy dreams are quite normal.” He said in an attempt to comfort you.

You groaned miserably, burying your face in your hands. You were humiliated. You’d have to request a different therapist. Maybe even seek out a totally different counseling practice.

“Dreams often must be explored to be understood. Tell me more about the content of this dream.” He requested calmly.

Your blood went hot. What? Why did he want to know that? You looked to him, surprised to see that he was completely serious. You rubbed your palms together nervously.

“I came in for my usual session. The energy was different. You were looking at me in a way you don’t usually,” You explained; “The conversation took a turn and...we had sex.”

His expression remained unchanged, but you weren’t close enough yet to see the fire in his eyes. He stood from his seat and took slow strides over towards you. You were sure he could hear your thumping heart.

“How was I looking at you?” He questioned, his voice thick and smooth.

That’s when you saw the riled up glaze in his eyes. A sudden wave of emotion and arousal crashed over you. This was really going to happen.

“Just like you are now.” You breathed out.

Instantly, his lips were on yours. Passionate and needy, but steady and calculated too. His hands gripped your waist, pushing you towards his desk. He shimmied you onto the cool, dark wood and allowed you to remove his suit blazer. 

Your mind was racing, but your movements were faster. You untucked his dress shirt from his pants while his fingertips worked on unbuttoning your jeans. It was a hot, heavy silence as the two of you stripped down enough to get the job done. His mouth was hot on your neck once your pants were casted aside, sucking a hickey on your most sensitive spot. 

“Dr. Lecter, I...” You trailed off, your mind too clouded with pleasure to offer any kind of sentence.

This felt so wrong, but so right at the same time. You were thankful for patient-doctor confidentiality. 

“Hannibal.” He corrected, unbuckling his belt and getting his pants down to his ankles.

Woah. First name basis. That was new. Hannibal really seemed to know his way around a woman. You found that rather shocking.

“Is this your means of dream exploration?” You joked, giving a breathy laugh.

“Something like that.” He replied.

He pulled himself from his boxers, stroking a few times before gingerly pushing himself inside of you. A synchronized moan drew from the both of you as he pushed through your walls, traveling as deep as he could go. He pushed your back down onto the desk, watching you sprawl out desperately for him.

He began with slow thrusts to allow you to adjust to his length, but hit the sweetest of spots each time he went back in. He grasped one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist so he could get a better angle. He had one hand on your throat, wrapped firmly but not uncomfortably. 

“Hannibal, please. Faster.” You begged, your tone coming out as a whine.

He hummed in response, his pace beginning to pick up. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as the sounds of skin and rattling desk objects echoed in your ears. He admired the way your eyes glassed over in pleasure, his own forehead beginning to break out into a sweat. 

“Was this how your dream played out?” He asked, the slightest bit of strain in his voice; “On my desk...in the middle of a session.”

You nodded in response, but that wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.” He ordered, slamming back into you again.

“Yes.” You groaned out.

“Good girl.” He praised, moving his pace even faster.

This wasn’t how he’d usually pleasure a woman. He preferred something a little more timed out and slow, but you needed something spontaneous and fast. He could feel it radiating off of you. Your mind bounced back and forth from the dream to this present moment. This was too good to be true.

Your legs tightened around his waist, signaling to him that you were awfully close. He himself felt a twitch, looks like you were going to both finish on time. He continued to pound into you, your moans relentlessly sounding out into the air. Your high-pitched, surprised gasp alerted your release, his own spilling out just a few moments later. 

Your moans and sounds dwindled into heavy breathing, your chests heaving to catch up. He collapsed onto your shaky frame, your hand resting in his hair. You could barely comprehend what had just happened. You suddenly had a whole new reason to come to therapy. Hannibal lifted his head, pride written all over his face.

“I think...we’ll pick this back up next week.”

[rabbitcruiser]

International Bat Night 

Find the nearest bat habitat and see if you can spot some of these eco-system-sustaining, adorable, awe-inspiring flying critters on International Bat Night.

Bats have many places in literature and history, and serve roles both dark and hilarious depending on where you find them. Probably the most common association with the bat is with vampires, but there is also the fun-loving bat from Ferngully (Batty Coda) along with a host of other characters from literature and cinema. But bats have an important role to play in our eco-system, and some of them are becoming endangered. International Bat Night serves to raise awareness from our flying rodent friends and why they deserve to be protected.

Learn about International Bat Night

International Bat Night is a date that takes place every year to celebrate these creatures, with a number of different bat events taking place around the world for the public to get involved with. These events give you the opportunity to help bat conservation and to learn more about these creatures. There are talks at dusk and fun bat walks; it is definitely the sort of activity you should experience at least once, as it will give you a unique opportunity to get up close and personal with these incredible animals and to learn more about them.

Incredible facts about bats

When we say that bats are incredible creatures, we do not expect you to simply take our word for it. After all, bats are the only mammals that can fly. They also use echolocation in order to get around during the night. As you probably know, bats do most of their living when it is dark and they cannot see very well. Because of this, they need to depend on other navigational skills, instead of sight. They send out beeps, listening for variations in the echoes that bounce back in order to understand where they are and to get around effectively.

Bats have gotten a bit of a bad reputation over the years. However, most of this is unjustified. A lot of people think that bats, especially those in North America, go around infecting people with rabies and a whole host of other toxins and diseases. This is something that has merely become a rumor because of the television and movies. In fact, bats avoid people, and only 10 people in the last 50 years have contracted rabies from North American bats. If you are one of the incredibly unlucky ones to get bitten by a bat, make sure you go to see your doctor as soon as possible, but don’t panic, bats really aren’t as scary as it is made out in the films! Vampire bats also don’t suck blood, contrary to popular belief. Okay, they do lap it up, but calm down! There are actually only three species of vampire bats across the globe.

History of International Bat Night

International Bat Night was established to help promote the good image of bats, and to help start creating some clarity on the facts about them above and beyond the rumors and Hollywood image. While we often think of bats as nocturnal predators feasting on the blood of the innocent and harboring rabies, the truth is quite different. Yes, there are bats that feed on blood, but they mostly feed on insects and believe us, you want bats to be out there patrolling the night and helping eliminate them.

Bats are one of the major contributors to keeping down obnoxious night insects like mosquitoes, and if you’re a camper, you know how unpleasant mosquitoes can make an otherwise pleasant camping expedition. There are also bats that feed on nectar and fruit, and actually help to pollinate and spread the seed of plants, in many cases they’re the only ones working to help those plants procreate!

These are just the beginnings of the wonders that bats possess, and there is far more just a flicker away, and International Bat Night is a great time to spend learning about them!

How to celebrate International Bat Night

One of the best ways to spend International Bat Night is by enjoying the quiet of night and watching the skies in your nearest bat habitat. Maybe it’s a night out in the woods, or just sitting on your front porch if you’re fortunate enough!

If you’re feeling both generous and adventurous, you can head out to one of your local Bat Conservatories and celebrate the night with them while making a contribution to their work. Really love bats? Volunteer with these conservatories and help keep our flying rodent friends around!

We also recommend spending a bit of time online, reading up about bats, and finding out more about these incredible creatures. Of course, we have given you some information, but there is so much else to learn. You can also help to spread awareness by sharing some of the information you find with your friends and family members on social media.

Another way to celebrate International Bat Night is by watching a Batman movie. You also have the Batman and Batwomen TV series as well. If you are a fan of superhero movies, this is definitely one of the best ways to celebrate this date. There are a lot of other films too, with many vampire-based films incorporating bats, such as Le Vampire and Dracula. So, get the popcorn out and enjoy yourself!

Source

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Wormhole | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 10k

A/N: This is a comfort fic disguised as a CM episode. Also, I had a lot of fun writing this.

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, murder, general CM things, hospitals, mentions of blood, psychopaths

You weren’t normally nervous to talk to Agent Aaron Hotchner. Sure, he was your boss, but he had also been leading the BAU for so long that you always trusted his reactions and motives. Still, the reason you had asked him to meet was so far out of left field that you were nervous he would tell you you were insane.

You were the first one in the office for the morning, perching on your desk in the empty bullpen while you waited for Hotch to arrive. You stood up when he entered the office, but waited to move until he made it to his office door and beckoned you to follow him inside.

“Good morning, (y/n).”

“Morning, Hotch,” you stood awkwardly in front of his desk, clutching the file in your hands.

“Please, sit. Is everything ok?” As soon as you made eye contact with him, your nerves settled. Everything about his behavior showed that he was genuinely concerned for you and interested in what you had to say. You took a deep breath, sliding the file onto his desk.

“I was looking into this cold case from the eighties, in Illinois. Mia-Rose Horn, 16, found murdered under a bridge. I have a theory, and I was hoping I could take a couple of days to go check it out.” You bit your lip while he picked up the file, thumbing through it.

“What’s your theory?”

“The only suspects considered were older transients in the area because the town was so biased against migrant workers. My preliminary research shows that the unsub profiles as younger, someone who knew the victim and her family personally. It feels like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing, and I think victimology can really help this case. I’d like to visit the dumpsite and walk the crime scene. I’d also like to go through the evidence to see if I can narrow it down a little more, and possibly do updated DNA analysis. I’ve already contacted the lead detective, he said it would be fine if I went out there.”

Hotch was quiet for a minute, reading the case information from the file. The longer you sat in silence, the more you feared he would say no. Finally, he closed the file and handed it back to you, “the FBI wasn’t invited in on this case when it was active, how did you find it?”

You blushed, hard. “I was watching a cold case documentary and when they talked about this one it just didn’t feel right, so I asked Garcia to pull the file. Once I looked it over more I realized my hunch was correct. They barely built a profile and the one they did make was wrong.”

“Do you work on cold cases often?”

“I’ve only worked on it when we don’t have an active case and I’m caught up on my paperwork, it makes me feel like I’m still making a difference when things are slow here.”

Hotch nodded, “you’re a good agent, (y/n). I trust that you’ll represent the BAU well. I can’t let you take the jet but you’re welcome to an SUV. However, as soon as we get an active case it takes priority. Do you understand?”

You stood up quickly, excitedly gripping at the file, “Yes sir, of course. Thank you so much. I promise I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think I could do something. I won’t let you down, sir.” Hotch smiled softly at your energy. You had reached for the door handle before he spoke again, calling after you.

“(y/n),” you turned, hand still on the doorknob, “take Reid with you, I assume he knows the details of this case, too?” You nodded quickly, practically bouncing back to your desk with excitement. You checked the clock, Spencer would probably arrive in the next ten minutes or so, giving you time to arrange everything you’d need for the trip.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, you were waiting for him, go bag in hand.

“Hotch said you could go?”

“Not only that, he said you could come with me,” you smirked, falling in step next to him as he walked to his desk.

“Really?”

“We’re leaving now, so get your go bag.” You did a little happy dance as he started to gather his things.

“Ooh! Where are you going?” Penelope joined you at Spencer’s desk, hot cup of coffee in her hands.

“(y/n) is solving a cold case, we’re going out to Illinois to get more information.”

“The one I pulled for you? You actually solved it? Is there anything you can’t do?” Penelope asked in disbelief. Just last week she had explained to you why she was convinced you were a superhero.

You laughed brightly, “I don’t know if I can solve it yet, that’s why I need to go check it out for myself. Yes, I’ll call you if I need anything,” you answered when she opened her mouth to speak again. She hugged both you and Spencer before you left, making you promise you’d call her with updates and letting you know she’d call the detective to let him know you were on your way.

In true Spencer fashion, he had brought enough audiobooks to last the whole drive. You didn’t mind, your brain was more focused on driving. You didn’t talk about the case until you were nearing the end of the twelve hour road trip. Spencer was the one to bring it up, turning down the volume knob on the console.

“How are you feeling about this?”

“To be honest, Spence, I haven’t really been listening.”

“I meant about the case,” he chuckled.

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up. It’s been a cold case for over three decades for a reason, you know?”

“We wouldn’t be in Illinois right now if you weren’t on to something. Instincts exist for a reason, and your instincts are usually right.”

You fiddled with the air conditioning vents absentmindedly, “I don’t want to dredge up old wounds for the family and the town unless I’m absolutely certain I can bring some closure to them as well. The detective is the only person who knows we’re coming. I don’t want to start interviewing witnesses until I know I can do something to help.”

Spencer nodded, “I’ll follow your lead, you just tell me what you need.”

You spent the rest of the time discussing the details of the case, Spencer looking over the file again while you navigated to the police office. Having Spencer with you made you feel a lot better. You knew the case front to back, but this was your first time leading an investigation and you didn’t want to accidentally miss something in the file out of nervousness. Spencer’s eidetic memory and genius brain would keep you on track and ask you questions you knew would only help you in the grand scheme of things. Spencer was also your best friend, your biggest supporter. Any considerations he had would always come from a place of love and mutual respect.

When you arrived at the police station it was late in the evening, but the detective was waiting for you. He was an older man, tall and mostly bald.

“Hi, you must be Agent (y/l/n). Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Detective Reeves, nice to finally meet you, too. This is my partner, Doctor Reid.” Spencer brought a hand up to wave. “Thanks for letting us take a look at this.”

“Thanks for making the drive out here. This case…” he sighed, “Mia-Rose went missing two months after I started this job and I’ve been hunting her killer ever since. It’s been thirty two years, a fresh pair of eyes will do this case good. It’ll do the whole town good if you can see somethin’ I haven’t.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” you said, not wanting to promise any results to him. “Is there a room we can set up in?”

“I’ve brought all of the evidence to our conference room. Use it for as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” you took off to the door that he had pointed at, Spencer on your heels. He shut the door behind you, dropping his bag on a chair while you picked up examination gloves.

The next few hours were spent meticulously going over the evidence that had been collected. You occasionally made comments to Spencer about where the item had come from and any notes that had already been documented about it.

The clock had just passed midnight when you were ready to move on to the next part of your investigation. You wanted to walk the dumpsite, but it would be useless to go while it was still dark. Instead, you retreated to a small motel at Spencer’s insistence that you needed sleep.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to shut my brain off enough to actually sleep,” you confessed once you were wearing sweatpants and leaning up against the headboard of the bed.

Spencer wandered out of the bathroom, giving you the softest look as he sat down next to you.

“What are you thinking about the most?”

“The evidence told me exactly what I thought it would, but I can’t build a decent mental picture of what happened until I see the dump site. What if I get there and it still doesn’t make sense? What if I’m in too deep on this one, Spence?”

“This case has been cold for thirty years, it can wait one more night. You are an incredible FBI agent. You’re an incredible human, at that. I know you can handle this, and Hotch knows you can handle this, too. If you aren’t able to solve it, you’re not letting anyone down. It’s been a cold case for a reason, I’m sure you’ll solve the next one.”

“Logically I know you’re right, but that isn’t making sleep happen any easier,” you sighed, sinking down onto a pillow. You could tell from Spencer’s expression that he had an idea when he reached up, turning off the lamp beside him and laying down next to you in the dark.

“This is called Image Distraction, all you have to do is close your eyes, try to relax, and listen to my voice.”

“Are you hypnotizing me?” you giggled into the darkness, feeling like a small kid at a sleepover with their best friend.

“No, it’s just a strategy to help you fall asleep. I’m going to describe a scene to you and the idea is that it takes up enough space in your brain to prevent you from re-engaging with other thoughts. Hypnosis doesn’t actually put you to sleep, just in a trance that seems like you’re sleeping. It’s been proven to help change habits and thoughts around sleeping though. There was a study done in 2010-”

“Is that what I’m supposed to be picturing? I’m seeing dudes in lab coats and creepy hospital walls.”

You felt the mattress shake next to you as Spencer laughed.

“No, that wasn’t it. I’m going to start now, picture a waterfall. As you walk closer it gets louder, pounding onto the rocks below it and spraying a mist into the air. The droplets of water stick to your face. You can see a rainbow that touches the pool at the base of the waterfall. The plants growing around the pool of water are greener than emeralds, bright and shining in the sun…”

That was the last thing you remembered him saying before succumbing to sleep. You had a very vivid dream while you were sleeping, not uncommon for someone in your field, but it wasn’t one you had had before.

There was a teenage girl walking in front of you down a long hallway. You instantly recognized her as Mia-Rose. She turned around every so often, beckoning you to come closer, but no matter how fast you tried to move your feet it was impossible for you to catch up. The hallway was familiar, you realized it was one in Quantico that you walked down every day to get to the elevator. It took longer than normal to reach the end, and just when you thought you could catch up to Mia-Rose, Hotch stepped out in front of you, holding Spencer with one arm and holding his gun to your best friend’s temple with the other.

“You have to choose, (y/n).”

“Choose what?”

“One of them has to die. Him or her?” he moved his gun to point the barrel at Mia-Rose.

“I don’t understand, why can’t I save them both?”

“One of them has to die.”

It only took you a moment to consider, “me. Shoot me. Let them live.”

“Brave choice,” Hotch’s gun came to point at you and his finger squeezed the trigger.

You woke up.

Soft morning light was coming in through the window and Spencer was already awake, quietly tying his tie while perched on the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” he grinned when he noticed you watching him.

“Morning,” you panted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You were dreaming.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hotch made me choose between him shooting Mia-Rose or shooting you.”

“What did you choose?”

“I made him shoot me instead.”

You expected Spencer to launch into an analysis of your dream and what it meant, but instead he asked another question, changing the subject.

“Can we stop for coffee before we walk the dumpsite?” he pulled a blue cardigan out from his go bag and stuck his arms through the sleeves.

“Sure,” you said, stretching as you stood up. While you got ready, Spencer found the nearest place to get coffee, and you stopped there before continuing on to the bridge where Mia-Rose’s body had been found thirty years ago.

“I’m too used to walking active crime scenes,” you murmured when you pulled over to the empty dumpsite. Normally dumpsites like this were taped off with officers present, as well as some news reporters and civilian gawkers. You were sure that it had looked like that when the crime had first happened, but now it was just a bridge that nobody thought about.

When you stepped out of the SUV you noticed a small memorial for Mia-Rose nailed to a tree, wilted and weathered flowers around it. You stopped for a minute to look at it, then continued through the brush to the overpass.

Mia-Rose had fallen off of the bridge onto the ground beneath, where you were standing now. Her death was originally ruled a suicide, which had slowed the investigation until her parents insisted she wasn’t suicidal and had her autopsied, revealing ligature marks and evidence of assault. Just from reading the file, you knew that her parents were right. She didn’t profile as suicidal, and if she was she could have jumped from further down the bridge into the flowing river to your right, not onto the ground where she likely would have survived.

“Mia-Rose was found right here,” you pointed, “and her belongings…” you turned to your left, Spencer moving from behind you to stand where the girl’s school backpack and shoes had been found, a handful of yards away.

“They were found next to this rock.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, facing him from where you stood, “the ME found traces of motor oil on her skin, so she must have been transported in a car. That means the unsub was driving on this road, stopped here by the bridge, then tossed her over the side. Why not just toss her stuff after her?” After thinking in silence for a minute, you started moving. “Stay where you are,” you instructed Spencer as you climbed the embankment. Once you reached the bridge, you stood on the edge so you could see both locations of dump sites.

“Spence,” you called to him, “how long is the average car?”

“Anywhere between 10 and 18 feet, depending on the size of the vehicle,” he answered quickly. You positioned yourself in line with where Mia-Rose’s body was found, then paced out roughly fifteen feet, landing you almost squarely in line with where Spencer was standing down the hill.

“What are you thinking?”

“This might sound kind of out there, but what if there was a partner?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out how you had gotten there. He climbed up to where you were standing before asking you about it, “what makes you think that?”

“Eyewitness accounts said they saw Mia-Rose in a car with a man the night she went missing, and they were both sitting in the front of the car, but that’s about all anyone can agree on. What if there was a second unsub sitting in the back? If I’m the unsub getting Mia-Rose out of the front, you’re taking her stuff out of the trunk and tossing it over the side,” you acted out.

“Which means my DNA should be on her belongings,” Spencer concluded, finishing your thought, “I’ll call the lab and start getting things processed.”

“Good idea, I’m going to call Garcia and then we can head back to the station,” you said, pulling out your own phone as Spencer took a step away to make his call.

“Crimefighter! What have you’ve got?” Garcia answered her phone quickly.

“Hey Penelope, can you go through the list of Mia-Rose’s family members and get me some updated contact info?”

“Of course! Did you get a lead? I knew you could solve this,” she rambled. You could hear the clicking of her keyboard as she multitasked.

“Not quite, just a better understanding of the situation. I want to start interviewing family members to really nail down victimology and see if they know of anyone who fits my profile. Spencer’s calling the lab to get some evidence re-examined. When they send you results can you run them through CODIS?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now, thanks Garcia.”

“Anytime, my love. I just sent the updated contacts to your tablet. Garcia out!”

Spencer was waiting for you in the SUV, once you finished your call with Garcia you drove back to the station. Detective Reeves assigned an officer to help you call the family members and invite them in for interviews.

“Mrs. Horn, thank you for coming in to talk with us,” you said gently to the elderly woman sitting across from you.

“Anything to help you find my little girl’s killer. Do you really think you can solve it?”

“We’re trying our best. Any information you can give us will make our job easier. Mia-Rose was walking home from school when she went missing, and was later seen getting into a blue car. Is there anyone she would have willingly accepted a ride home from?”

“No, she always walked, rain or shine so she could say hello to the neighbors on her way home. Except for Tuesdays, my brother Dylan would drive her home from band practice on Tuesdays because it was after dark.”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, silently acknowledging that Mia-Rose was abducted on a Friday.

“Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her, bullies or friends she might have had a falling out with?”

“No, she was sweet to everyone. That’s why it was such a shock to the town when she was killed. There wasn’t a soul who hadn’t been touched by her kindness.” Mrs. Horn spoke so highly of her daughter, further validating your theory.

“Let’s take a break,” you said, noting the way she was tearing up, “excuse us.” You stepped out of the room with Spencer.

“We should talk to Dylan,” he said once you were out of earshot of Mrs. Horn.

“I agree. He was interrogated by police when Mia-Rose first went missing, but I don’t think he’s a suspect. His alibi was rock solid, but he might know something about what happened.”

You had the detective bring in Mrs. Horn’s brother, Dylan Godfrey. While he agreed to an interview, he was much less cooperative than Mrs. Horn.

“I told the police thirty years ago, I had nothing to do with it,” he drawled, “I was at home with my wife, God rest her soul. I didn’t even have my car to kidnap Mia if I wanted to.”

“Where was your car?” Spencer asked quickly.

“My boy had it, out with his friends. He had just gotten his driver’s license. You know how kids are, impossible to control.”

This was the first you were hearing of his son. Nowhere in the records from the original investigation did it say Dylan Godfrey had a son, let alone a son who’s whereabouts were unknown on the night of the crime.

“Mr. Godfrey, let me ask you this. How old was your son the year Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you know where he was that night?”

“Out, like I said. He didn’t come home until after two o’clock in the morning.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Last I knew he was working on a farm just out of town, the McGilroy’s place.”

As soon as Spencer had gotten the information out of him, you were firing off texts to Garcia. She sent you the address of the farm, and you called her once you were en route.

“You’re on speaker, Garcia. What have you found about this guy and why didn’t we know about him before?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. He wasn’t included in any of the original witness statements. I’ve barely been able to find information about him online. I know he’s still alive because I don’t have a death certificate, but other than that no home address, no phone number, no nothing. Everything I know about him is from his childhood, before Mia-Rose went missing.”

“Something is better than nothing, what did you find?”

“Daniel Godfrey, born in 1965 to Mary and Dylan Godfrey. He was a decent kid from what I can tell. He got good grades in school, even got a scholarship to a college in Chicago but he turned it down at the last minute. I’ll hit you back if I figure out why.”

“Thanks Garcia,” you chirped before she hung up. You pulled up the long dirt drive of the McGilroy’s farm, putting the SUV in park and getting out. Spencer was by your side in an instant, you noticed the way his hand rested on his revolver.

“My goal is to get him in for a voluntary interview. If we can get him talking, we can figure out what happened that night and why his known locations on that night fit our timeline. Best case, we get a confession and the name of his partner, worst case, he had nothing to do with it and we’re back where we started.”

Spencer nodded, so you reached up to knock on the door. After a moment, a blonde woman opened the door.

You flashed your credentials, “hi, I’m SSA (y/l/n) with the FBI, we’re looking for Daniel Godfrey and we were told he might be here.”

“He’s out back in the barn,” she said, pointing down a gravel path.

“Thanks so much,” Spencer said as you stepped off the porch. You reached the barn and pushed open the large door, revealing a man inside. He was carrying a bucket of water that he poured into a trough for a horse before acknowledging you.

“What can I do ya for?”

“Are you Daniel Godfrey?” you asked.

“Depend’s who’s asking,” he chuffed, wiping his hands on his dirty coveralls. You held up your credentials.

“I’m Agent (y/l/n) and this is Doctor Reid. We’re with the FBI investigating the murder of your cousin, Mia-Rose Horn. We were hoping you’d come in to the station so we could get some more information about her.”

“What kinda information? Mia’s been dead a long time now.”

You had to play this carefully, one wrong word and he wouldn’t voluntarily interview with you, “your father told us you were out with friends the night she disappeared. We were hoping you could tell us what town was like that night and if you saw anything unusual.”

“You talked to my father? I can tell ya right now, it was quiet. Just like any other night in this town.”

“Great, that’s exactly the kind of information we’re looking for. Would you be able to come with us to the station so we can get that statement through the official channels? While we’re there I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if that’s ok.”

“Are ya saying I’m being arrested?”

“No, not at all. This is completely voluntary.”

Daniel fell silent, considering your offer. When he finally spoke again it was gruff and hostile, “will my old man still be there?”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, hoping he had a better read on what answer would be your best choice. Spencer’s tongue flickered over his lips, then he cautioned a response, “he’s there right now, will that be a problem?”

Daniel looked dejected, scuffing his feet in the hay below his boots, “not unless he makes it a problem.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Our car is out front, is there anything you need to do before we go?”

Daniel shook his head and quietly followed you and Spencer back to the SUV. He didn’t say much while you were driving back to the police station, and neither did you. You escorted Daniel inside the station, walking quickly past where his father was sitting, still talking to the officer Reeves had assigned to your case. Dylan stood up when he noticed his son, but Daniel just kept his head down and quickened his pace. You brought him to an interrogation room, a small space with just a table and a couple of chairs.

“You can wait here, we just have to go collect some materials and then we’ll be back, alright?”

“Whatever,” Daniel said, taking the seat closest to the door. You stepped out, shutting the door behind you.

“Did you see the way Dylan reacted when he saw Daniel?” you asked Spencer quietly. He nodded.

“Did you see the way Daniel reacted when he saw Dylan?”

“Do you think it’s relevant to this case? I don’t want to waste time asking about it if it’s just some squabble they had once. Hotch said I could only work this case until we got an active one back at Quantico, and you and I both know serial killers don’t take extended vacations.”

Spencer considered the situation, you could almost see the gears turning in his mind, “it might be a way we can get him comfortable talking to us, irrelevant or not. This is the best lead we have. Just like you said earlier, you have to get him talking.”

You trusted Spencer’s opinion, not just because he was your best friend, but because he had led his fair share of interrogations during his time in the FBI. He was really good at it, his accelerated mind picking up patterns of words and behaviors that you could only be envious of.

“What do you mean ‘I’ have to get him talking? I thought this was a team effort.”

“It is, but you have to lead this interrogation.”

You weren’t surprised at his statement, but you resented the fact that he was right. Your favorite part of your job was the quick thinking, the on-the-fly deductions you had to make in the field that helped you put all of the clues together. You liked helping people and actively putting bad guys away for the greater good of the country you served. You were good at your job, too, having spent so much time developing your skills with arguably some of the best agents in the Bureau. You couldn’t not be good at your job surrounded by minds like the ones at the BAU.

Like everyone though, there were some aspects of your career that you were better at than others. You usually excelled in the takedown and arrests of suspects and left the mind games to your colleagues that were much better equipped to handle them. Sure, you could talk a suspect into putting their weapon down instead of pointing it at you or a victim, but that was a heat of the moment interaction. Cool, collected interrogation rooms just weren’t your strong suit, and nothing during your time at the BAU so far had changed it.

“You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely. You have the skills, knowledge, and rapport to conduct this interview,” Spencer showed no hesitation in his answer.

“Promise to let me know if I’m going down the wrong rabbit hole?”

Spencer smiled, “of course. Let’s go solve this case.” He handed you a sheet of paper, a form for Daniel to sign with his Miranda rights on it.

Once you were seated across from Daniel, you handed him the paper and read him his rights.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Daniel, what happened between you and your father?”

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between you and Spencer, “what kind of FBI agents are you?”

“We’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. We use psychology to solve crimes. I hope my question wasn’t intrusive, Doctor Reid and I both just noticed the way your behavior changed when you saw your father. He’s been helpful in our investigation and I don’t want any family conflicts to interfere if you’re going to help us too.”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Just a disagreement?” you pressed carefully.

“Just a disagreement.”

“Alright,” you said, deciding to leave it at that and move on. He was giving you too much resistance for the direction you had wanted to take the conversation, so you changed the subject. If his disagreement with his father was relevant to the case, you’d have to get that information out of him another way.

You started off by asking about Mia-Rose and gathering any information Daniel had about her. At first he was reluctant, just explaining that they saw each other during family gatherings and when his father would drive them both home from band practice.

“You went to the same high school then, if you were in band together?”

“Uh huh. It’s a small town, everyone goes to the same school.”

“Can you tell us about who Mia-Rose spent time with? Who were her friends?”

“Everyone was her friend. She was the friendliest kid in school.”

“Who were your friends?” Spencer asked, tilting his head. It wasn’t a question you had thought to ask, but as soon as he did you saw where he was going.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” Spencer answered.

“Alec Krause, Markus Sparrow, Nicolas Rush,” Daniel listed.

“Where are they now?” you asked while Spencer pulled out his phone, presumably to text Garcia for a background check, “are you still in contact with them?”

“They all moved out of town for college. Haven’t seen or talked to ‘em since,” Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“You were supposed to go to college, in Chicago, right?” you prompted. Daniel’s eyes flickered between you and Spencer, probably wondering how much about him you knew.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Got a job at the farm,” he shrugged.

“Daniel, I’m going to be real with you,” you squared up, “I’ve seen plenty of small towns in this job. I’ve talked to many people from small towns just like this one, and almost all of them in your position would have taken the out. They would have moved to the city as soon as they got the chance, so why didn’t you? Why did you choose to stay in this town?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Daniel was quick to correct you.

“You didn’t?” Now you were on to something.

“The disagreement I had with my father was about me leaving. He wouldn’t let me leave, so he got me the job at the farm.”

“Alright, let’s take a break,” you said, standing up and stepping out of the room. Spencer exchanged a few words with Daniel, then followed you out.

“That was big,” you panted, trying to shake out the jump of adrenaline that you were feeling.

“You’re doing great,” Spencer confirmed.

“When Dylan was talking about his son earlier, during his interview, it seemed like he didn’t have control over Daniel. What was it he said, ‘you know how kids are’? Something must have changed to make Daniel listen to his father telling him to stay, something that changed after Mia-Rose was murdered.”

Right before you were going to go back into the interrogation room, your phone rang. Hotch’s name lit up the screen.

“Hold on, Spence. (y/l/n),” you answered, praying that Hotch wasn’t going to tell you to abandon the case and get back to Quantico right when you were making strides.

“I’m just checking in to see how things are going.”

“We’re talking to a person of interest right now, it’s just very slow going. We think he had been working with a partner when the murder took place, but he’s not giving up names,” you explained, “please don’t tell me we have a case that we have to come back for, we just got a break that might open this case up for us.”

Hotch chuckled on the other end of the line, “no, we don’t have a case. Garcia told me you had a lead and I was curious.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you were a prosecutor before joining the BAU. This is exhausting, and every time I say something I feel like he’s going to invoke.”

“You’re doing fine,” Spencer whispered reassuringly.

“Spencer says I’m doing fine,” you relayed to Hotch.

“I’m sure you are. Sometimes unsubs like this take time to crack,” he reminded you.

“It’s already been thirty years, I’d like to close it now,” you decided, squaring your shoulders. “I’m going to go back in there and wrap this up. I’ll call you back when we’re done.” You hung up with Hotch, then turned to Spencer. “Let’s do this.”

Daniel seemed to tense up when you walked back in, sitting down across the table from him once again.

“Thanks for being patient, Daniel. I’d like to know why your father wouldn’t let you leave town. From what he told us, he gave you a lot of freedom in high school. What happened?”

“We had a disagreement, like I said.”

“Right, we’ve covered that. It must have been hard going from being able to do whatever you wanted to working a farm job under your father’s thumb. I was hoping you could tell us exactly what kind of disagreement. Was it because Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel nodded, “ok, that’s a start. Was there a specific reason beyond Mia-Rose’s murder?”

Your tactic was deliberate, validating his feelings before pressing harder in hopes that he would give something up.

“He didn’t want me getting into more trouble.”

“More trouble? As in, you got into trouble here first?”

“Correct.”

“We don’t have any police records for you, Mr. Godfrey. Usually that’s the kind of ‘trouble’ that stops kids from going to college,” Spencer chimed in.

“The police don’t know I was there.”

“Where?” Your question was burning hot, and you watched Daniel squirm as he realized he had dug himself into a hole.

“I was in the car.”

“Which car?” you hoped he meant the car you thought he did, but you needed a true confession.

“My father’s car…” you chose not to say anything and instead let him sit in uncomfortable silence, “the night Mia was killed.”

“With her? Was Mia in the car with you?”

“Yes, she was.”

You had to maintain your composure, even though your insides were doing cartwheels out of excitement. This was exactly the kind of lead you were looking for, you couldn’t blow it now.

“Your father said you were out with friends, were any of the people you mentioned earlier with you? Alec, Markus, and Nicholas?”

“No, it wasn’t with them.”

“Who else was in the car then, Daniel? It wasn’t just you and Mia-Rose.”

“I don’t remember,” he started backpedaling, a clear sign that you were closing in.

“We’re going to step out and give you some time to think about it, see if you can try to remember,” Spencer interrupted before you could say anything, nodding towards the door when you made eye contact with him. You followed him out, turning to him abruptly once the door was shut behind you.

“I was getting somewhere with him.” You were fired up, to say the least. Now that you were in the comfortable privacy of Spencer’s company, you could let your emotions come forward.

“I know, I know,” Spencer smirked, “Garcia got a hit with Daniel’s friends, we should call and see what she has so we have more leverage when we go back in there.”

You took a deep breath, pulling out your phone and calling Garcia.

“Boy Wonder got my text!” she answered after the first ring.

“What did you find, Garcia? We’re really making strides here and anything you’ve got could really close this for us.”

“I ran the names of Daniel’s friends, like you asked. Almost all of them checked out, normal guys with normal lives.”

“Almost all of them?” you caught the specificity of her words.

“Right. One of them, Markus, he checks out too… but his brother, oh my his brother has done some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Spencer asked, brows furrowed in thought.

“Kyle Sparrow. When he was 11 he attempted to rob a bank, and not just as a joke. When he was 14 he was suspended from school after locking students in storage closets. He’s been in and out of jail his whole adult life. He got out a year ago and hasn’t been back since.”

“That fits our profile. How old was he when Mia-Rose was killed?” Spencer followed up.

“That’s where things get weird, I was hoping you guys would have a good explanation because this really doesn’t make sense.”

“Garcia,” you called, refocusing her.

“Right. Kyle Sparrow was 10 years old when Mia-Rose was murdered.”

“What?” you whipped around to look at Spencer incredulously, hoping he would have some kind of information about child serial killers that would clarify the situation. Instead, he just frowned and shook his head. You had to decide if it was worth bringing up to Daniel and risk wasting precious time. You considered for a moment, then spoke. “Send us his address, we’re going to ask Daniel about him. If he seems like a viable lead then we’ll head out there. Thanks Garcia.”

“Done and done. You’ve got this, crimefighters!”

“Are you ready to go back in there?” Spencer asked when you reached for the interrogation room door handle.

“Do I have a choice? This case just took a turn that I wasn’t expecting.”

“It’s been four hours and thirty six minutes. We can take another minute to get coffee if you need a longer break,” he suggested.

“I’m too close to cracking this. I can feel it,” you confessed. Spencer nodded, acknowledging that your gut feelings were usually right. You opened the door, sitting back down across from Daniel. Spencer stood in the corner behind you, hands in his pockets.

“Did you remember who was in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel shook his head. “Ok, that’s fine. I have some names that we’ve collected as people of interest for this case. I’m going to read them off and you tell me if one sounds familiar, ok?” Daniel nodded, so you opened your file and pulled out a blank piece of paper, holding it so Daniel couldn’t see the lack of information on your side.

“Emily Prentiss.”

He shook his head.

“Derek Morgan.”

Again, nothing.

“Penelope Garcia.”

Your list was intentional, listing people you were certain Daniel wouldn’t know so you could get a baseline for his behavior. It paid off when you listed the next name, “Kyle Sparrow.”

You could practically see Daniel tense up. Though he shook his head, his leg started bouncing nervously and his eyes were flickering frantically around the room, looking anywhere but at you and Spencer.

“Daniel,” you started, keeping your voice low, “remember when I told you Doctor Reid and I use psychology and behavior to solve crimes? You may not have noticed it, but your behavior shifted when you heard Kyle’s name. You know something about him, don’t you? Was he in the car with you that night?”

Daniel finally looked up at you, eyes watering, “I’m not a criminal.”

“I didn’t say you were. Was Kyle in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“He was just a kid, my best friend’s little brother. We were out in my dad’s car, I had just gotten my license so I skipped class and took Markus and Alec for a spin around town. When I dropped them off back home Kyle said he was lookin’ to go across town to the library so I offered him a ride. I even made him sit in the back because he was still just a small kid. Then we saw Mia walking home. It always took her longer because she stopped to say hi to everyone she passed. Kyle suggested we offer her a ride too, so I did.

“It all happened so fast, first she was getting into the car and then Kyle had a knife at her throat. He told me he’d kill her if I didn’t do what he wanted. He made me drive out of town to the woods and watch as he tied her up and did horrible, horrible things to her. I didn’t even know a kid was capable of doing those things. When he was done with her he made me help put her back in the car and drive to the bridge. She wasn’t dead when he made me push her over the edge, that’s why I didn’t throw her in the river. I thought she’d survive it without Kyle knowing because he was too busy getting rid of her stuff in the trunk. He still made me drop him off at the library after, even though it was closed on account of it being real late at night, and swear that I’d never tell anyone what we did or he’d kill me too.”

“How did your father find out?” you asked.

“He found blood in the car the next morning. I told him it was from Markus, that he had gotten scratched up while we were messing around in the afternoon. He made me clean it out with bleach, told me I’d have to learn responsibility if I wanted to move out. When my auntie called him later and told him about Mia being missing, he connected the dots. He told me he didn’t want to know what I had been doing the night before, but if I tried to move away it would make me a suspect. He got me the job at the farm and I’ve been there ever since.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Daniel. We’ll tell the court how cooperative you’ve been, they might ease your sentence because of it.”

“The court? What?” Pure fear crossed Daniel’s face. It didn’t sit right with you that he had to be arrested, knowing he had been coerced into helping murder his cousin, but he had still committed a felony. You had to let the court decide his fate.

“Daniel Godfrey, you’re under arrest for accessory to the murder of Mia-Rose Horn,” Spencer moved behind Daniel, taking his hands to cuff them. As soon as he was done Daniel was passed off to an officer and you and Spencer took off, SUV keys in hand.

You sped towards the home address Garcia had sent you for Kyle Sparrow, wishing the rest of the team was there so you could split up in case he was at work. This part of your job was where you felt the most comfortable, the tactical side of an arrest that was more physical than the mind games you had just played in the interrogation room. It was just starting to rain, a light drizzle that darkened the skies as you drove to what you hoped was your final location for this case.

“Is there Kevlar in the back?” you asked, realizing you hadn’t gotten vests from the police station before you had left. Spencer turned around in his seat, checking around the vehicle.

“Nope.”

“Great,” you sighed, “let’s try not to get shot at then, alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer agreed.

You pulled up to Kyle’s house, which was more of a rundown shack on the outskirts of town. You drew your weapon as soon as your boots were on the ground, approaching the door cautiously.

“Where’s Morgan when you need him,” you mumbled, hoping you wouldn’t have to kick the door down, “Kyle Sparrow, FBI,” you announced, knocking on the door. A gunshot flew through the window next to you, shattering the glass. That was all the invitation you needed to bust open the door, but Kyle wasn’t in the room inside. You moved quickly through the maze of rooms, taking one side while Spencer took the other.

“Clear,” you called every time you ensured a room was empty. You heard Spencer clear a couple of spaces, then fall silent. You worked your way to the kitchen, finding him in a standoff with Kyle.

“I’m not going to jail again. You can’t make me,” Kyle seemed unreasonably calm, grinning slightly to himself while he pointed a pistol at Spencer.

“You’re wanted for the murder of Mia-Rose, Kyle. There’s no way to get out of this one,” you had to keep things simple for him and talk him down as quickly as possible before he shot at you again, “let’s just talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not going to jail for a person I killed thirty years ago.”

“There’s no other option. We know it was you, this ends here.”

“If I have to go back, it has to be for something better. You’re right, this ends here, but not because I killed Mia-Rose Horn.”

“How does it end, Kyle?” Spencer asked. You noticed the glint in Kyle’s eye, giving you a split second to push Spencer out of the way and get hit with a searing pain in your side. You heard Spencer’s revolver fire as you hit the floor.

“Get him first,” you grunted, putting a hand on your side to try to stem the bleeding. Spencer crouched next to you, worried eyes looking you over before he pulled your handcuffs out of your pocket. Your ears were ringing, but you could just make out the sounds of Spencer talking before you blacked out.

You woke up in the hospital, an all too familiar experience. Spencer was beside you, nose in a book. You weren’t sure how much he was paying attention to it though, considering the way his brows were furrowed and his fingers were tapping against the cover. He was lost in thought somewhere, you just didn’t know where.

“Spence,” you managed to croak through your dry throat. His eyes shot up from the page, lips turning up in a small smile when his gaze met yours.

“Hi,” he practically whispered.

“Is Kyle dead?”

Spencer hesitated, no doubt weighing the value of telling you the outcome now or waiting until you were better rested. He chose the former, shaking his head.

“I did what you would have done and shot him in the hip. He’s not dead, and once he’s healed he’ll go to trial. You did it, (y/n). You solved the case.”

“We solved the case. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You also wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“So?” you shrugged, “I lived. Where’s Garcia? Usually she’s the first one at the hospital.”

Spencer’s smile returned, “she wanted to but a case came in right right after you went into surgery. She sends her love and said she’d make up for not being here when we get back to Quantico.”

“A case? We should get back to help,” though you were exhausted, you brain immediately went into profiling mode.

“No, you’re going to stay here and rest. You should be staying for longer than you’re going to, but I was able to convince your doctor that I was more than capable of making sure you got home safely.”

“I didn’t realize you were a rule-breaker,” you teased, feeling your eyelids droop.

“I’m not, I just thought you would want to go home as soon as possible. You’re not the kind of person who likes being away from their family, and we’ve already been gone three days. Staying here doing nothing, although it would be good for you, would just torment you more.”

“Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, falling back to sleep. You dozed on and off for the better part of the day, Spencer staying by your side the whole time. Towards the end of the afternoon, you woke up to his seat vacant. The immediate panic you felt was squashed by calculated thoughts, he’s probably getting food or in the bathroom. You fought to stay awake while you waited for him to come back. He surprised you by returning with someone behind him.

“Mrs. Horn wanted to talk to you, if you’re feeling up for it,” he said, resuming his position in the chair next to you. You nodded, watching the older woman enter the room from where she had been standing in the doorway.

“I wanted to thank you for finding my daughter’s killer, even though it put you in the line of danger.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” you reassured her, sitting up a little against your pillows.

“I wish her father could have been here to see it solved. He always told me not to lose faith, that a blessing would come our way. You were our blessing,” she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“I was just doing my job, I’m sorry it took so long for someone to figure this out.”

Mrs. Horn tutted, telling you she was just glad that her daughter could rest in peace now. Before she left, she made sure to tell you that if you were ever in Illinois you and Spencer were welcome to come over for dinner, and that she hoped you got better quickly so you could go help other victims.

Once she was gone, your doctor came in to follow up with you. You had been shot in the side, the bullet passing through and exiting out of your back without hitting any major organs. Spencer did most of the talking for you, asking questions you couldn’t make sense of and checking over your chart for what was probably the hundredth time that day.

“You seem to be healing well and have a… knowledgable… support system, so I’m going to clear you for discharge. If anything changes you’ll need to go into the nearest hospital, ok?”

“Yes ma’am,” you answered. A nurse came in later with your discharge papers, which you signed before Spencer helped you in a wheelchair and out to where the SUV was parked.

“Are you sure you want to drive in this rain? I can-“ you winced in pain, hand flying to your side, “I can do it if you don’t feel comfortable.” Spencer stifled a laugh, reaching his hands out to give you something to brace yourself against as you moved from the wheelchair the SUV.

“I don’t mind driving,” he said simply.

“Yes you do,” you quipped quickly, exhaling as you settled into the passenger seat.

“Ok, yes. Under normal circumstances, I do mind driving, but I think I can make an exception when my favorite driver has been shot.”

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” you smirked, still struggling to breathe in a way that would make your side hurt less.

“Are you warm enough?” Spencer fiddled with the heating knobs once he was settled behind the wheel. You nodded, but the shiver that ran down your body betrayed you.

“You’re the one driving. I want you to be comfortable,” you mumbled.

“You’re the one who just got shot. Here,” he reached behind him into the back where both of your go bags were stored. He unzipped his own and pulled out a cardigan, then leaned over the console to drape it across you. “The wool will help you retain heat.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, relishing in the comfort of his gesture.

“You didn’t have to take that bullet for me.”

“I did. I pulled you into this mess, I wasn’t going to let you get hurt because of it.”

“Hotch sent me with you so that you wouldn’t get yourself hurt,” he rebutted.

You brushed him off, “I’ve been shot before, I’m going to be fine.”

“I’ve also been shot before, you didn’t have to push me out of the way.”

You were quick to counter, “you didn’t have to push Blake out of the way either.”

It was an unnecessary squabble, a fact you both caught onto quickly once you realized the direction the conversation was going. Instead, Spencer changed the subject to explain the history of the small towns you were passing through on your way to the interstate.

Miraculously, once the car was comfortably cruising on the highway, Spencer fell silent. You suspected it had to do with his intense concentration on driving in the elements as the rain got harder, though he also could have been giving you the space to sleep if you needed to.

It wasn’t until you were over an hour into your journey that he spoke again, after a quick glance at you revealed fresh tear tracks down your cheeks under the passing street lights.

“(Y/n), are you crying?” His question was so soft you almost missed it, “is it the pain? You’re not due to take your meds for another three hours but I know you have ibuprofen in your bag that would be ok to take now. I can pull over-“ his hand was about to move back to the steering wheel from where it had come to rest on the console, but you reached out to grab it instead.

You and Spencer didn’t really ‘do’ physical contact. You both had reasons not to, instead finding comfort just in proximity. As long as he was around, you were happy. This time, though, it was different. Maybe it was because you were touch starved, or because you had just been poked and prodded at all angles while in the hospital. Whatever the reason, the light grip you had on Spencer’s hand to stop him from pulling over was enough to make you feel the tiniest bit better. He was there with you, he was real.

“It’s not the pain,” you managed to hold your composure, knowing that letting any kind of sob escape the confines of your soul would only physically hurt you more.

“Are you tired? I drank enough coffee to get us home by morning but if you really need to sleep we can find a hotel somewhere. There are three off the next exit.”

“Spencer,” you ran your thumb over the prominent vein in his hand, “it isn’t something you can fix.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled, and by the way his hands were twitching you could tell he was deciding whether or not to stop the car anyways.

“There are hundreds of thousands of cold cases. Hundreds of thousands of families that don’t have closure. Hundreds of thousands of victims that haven’t gotten justice.”

“There’s one less because of you. You made a difference to Mia-Rose’s family, you got her the justice she deserves.”

“She deserved justice thirty years ago. I feel like the system failed her, the very system I work for. She was just a kid, and the answer was right there the whole time. Why did I have to be the one to figure it out, thirty years too late?”

Spencer’s response was soft and gentle, “because you’re exceptional, (y/n).”

“I didn’t have to be exceptional to solve this case, though. That’s what I’ve learned from all of the cold case documentaries I’ve watched. The ones that get solved are because someone knew what happened and didn’t come forward about it until years later. There was a psychopathic kid on the streets for thirty years because the police didn’t think to talk to Daniel Godfrey.”

“We can’t change what happened in the past, but we can make a difference in our futures.”

“I’m just so tired, Spence. I chose this job, I love this job, but it’s exhausting.”

“Then rest, (y/n). It’s ok if the only person you save some days is yourself.”

He was right, of course. You wanted to keep saving others, but you couldn’t do that if you didn't make time to save yourself too. You finally closed your eyes and pulled his cardigan up to your chin. Though you were still conscious, limiting your sensory input helped calm you down enough that you found yourself flitting in and out of dissociation. Even when Spencer’s hand gently moved out from under yours to answer his phone, you kept your eyes closed.

“Hey JJ,” his voice was quiet, barely audible over the rain pounding against the windshield, “they’re doing ok.” He paused while he listened to JJ’s response. “No, they keep reminding me that it’s not the first time they’ve been shot. I’m worried about them though.” He trailed off.

“They’ve been shouldering this burden of over 185,000 cold cases since we started working on this one, and now that it’s solved they’re finally feeling the weight of it. I don’t want them to drive themselves crazy trying to solve all of them on their own. We deal with enough active cases as it is.”

Though you were barely in a state of mind to process his words, he had hit the nail right on the head.

“How is the case you’re working on?” You presumed JJ was filling him in on what they knew, “have Garcia look into large purchases of triacetone triperoxide… Call me if anything changes. We should be back by morning.”

“Yes,” his change in tone indicated that JJ had asked him a question, “that would be great, JJ. Thank you so much.”

He must have hung up with JJ because his hand found yours again, fingers just barely touching. It was a simple action, loaded with a lot of meaning. Spencer was your best friend, and would always be your best friend. Bullets, cold cases, marriages, there was nothing that could break the bond you had with him.

You didn’t understand why people called their significant others their “better half”. It insinuated that you weren’t a whole person to begin with, a fractured existence that only found completion by the means of someone else. The idea that your life couldn’t be fulfilling until someone else made it whole was a concept that was set up for failure and self-loathing.

Instead, you believed that you were a whole person who could live a fulfilling life without the necessity of another. Instead, you surrounded yourself with people who lifted you up and helped you achieve your goals without being the direct cause of your success. Instead, you followed your dreams and somehow found Spencer Reid along the way.

Spencer was your best friend, your confidant, the one person who you knew you couldn’t live without, but he was not your other half. He was his own whole person, a mirror image of your own being. You found solace in his companionship, safety in the complexities of his brain. When the stress of your job got to be too much, you could reliably turn to each other and exist in the little slice of the world you called yours for a moment.

No, he was not your other half. He wasn’t even yours, for that matter, but he was there. He was there in a capacity that nobody else could achieve.

This is part of my GALAXY universe! If you liked this relationship, check out the MASTERLIST for more content!

Galaxy Taglist: @kermitsaysgayrights @niallthedancingharry @shadyladyperfection  @thatsonezesty13  @lexshead @ceeellewrites @howdycharlie @girlycakepops @fantastic-fans @canimarrypizzaornah @daisyflower138 @dyingrexx @taylormobley @bazzleslynn @tj-drinks-tea @willa-wonky @eddiesbifocals @tee-mbrown @reniescarlett @bone-hurty-bitch @messyacademia

[remuscore]

Slumber Party

Original idea from here

Summary: Janus doesn’t cuddle. Well, maybe a little...

Warnings: None. Maybe some suggestive stuff, but it’s Remus so.

Taglist: @hannahdra-ws @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly

Janus was invited to movie night with the light sides again. He was thrilled of course. The third movie night he’s been invited to with everyone and Thomas. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Remus still wasn’t getting invited.

Janus always missed Remus during these nights. No one made dark jokes, no one picked movies that made Janus jump and grimace, no one wrapped him in their arms around him and kept him comfortably warm against an uncomfortably naked body. 

However, they have tried their best. 

Not naked thankfully, but Patton sure did try bringing him into the big, movie night, cuddle pile they have. Janus just sat by the end of the couch as everyone sat together, even Logan participated in the big cuddle pile by sitting beside Virgil on the end. 

But this time, Janus decided it would be different. He’ll be bringing Remus with. 

When he told his plan to his beloved little monster his plan, he was singing with excitement. Literally. He sang a whole little ditty about how excited he was. 

“Do you think they’ll let me pick the movie? Have they let you pick a movie yet?” Remus stumbled out of his room the night of the event wearing nothing but the boxers he agreed to wear for tonight. Janus waited for him by the stairwell with his own silky pajamas on. 

“Roman wasn’t going to let me pick the movie, but Patton forced him to after he stole my hat when they watched Frozen,” Janus said. He smiled when he saw the large stuffed Cthulhu Remus was currently hugging against his chest. “I’m sure they’ll play your movie if you asked.”

Remus snorted at the mere idea and shoved Janus towards the door. Janus smirked, though he was awfully nervous about bringing Remus along. He didn’t wish for any of the sides to exclude him again or— heaven forbid— distrust him again because he wanted to bring his beloved friend (and family, night he add) along. 

As he and Remus arrived, the mood considerably dampened. Patton even let out a little “oh my goodness” at the sight of the infamous duke. Janus paid no mind to them as he took his usual spot at the end and Remus happily sat at his side. 

They all waited in some… expected silence that both Janus and Remus reveled in. Janus more than Remus, really. As much as Remus loved making them squirm, he wasn’t the biggest fan of silence. 

“Remus…” Patton was the first to say anything. He laughed nervously. “Uh, hi there… sorry I wasn’t aware you were coming—”

“Yeah, why is the skunk head here!?” Roman shouted, a whine carrying in his voice that made Remus giggle.

“Why not!” He retorted. Roman glared at him and pointed to all of him.

“And not respecting our rules!”

“Or himself.” Virgil muttered. Janus rolled his eyes. They’ve all seen Remus naked before, it wasn’t like there was anything new beside a few scars.

“And where in the name Poseidon, did he get that /adorable/ plushie of the Gods!?” Remus hugged his Cthulhu tighter at the mention of him. 

“I got that for him,” Janus said, pointedly ignoring Roman’s original question. He challenged him to say otherwise with a look. Judging by Roman’s sputtering and pouting, he had won. “What are we watching tonight, hm?”

“Well, we were just about to vote—”

“Cinderella! Cinderella!” Remus shouted, practically vibrating in his seat and startling Logan into shutting up and moving closer to Patton. Remus didn’t seem to care though. “I want to watch Cinderella! Please, please, please!”

“Cinderella?” Patton and Roman sounded surprised by the plea, pleasantly and utterly confused respectfully. 

“It’s his favorite.” Virgil sighed, rubbing his forehead. Remus has bugged them all about why Cinderella is his favorite many times before. 

“Especially the live action one.” Janus added, watching with guarded fondness as Remus bounced and clapped his hands, nodding enthusiastically with excitement. 

“Well… that sounds like a perfectly… reasonable movie to watch?” Patton ended his sentence like a question, looking at the others around him for any reason not to do it. Roman still shook his head and frowned deeply. He pointed at Remus again.

“I don’t trust his excitement,” he announced. “He’s going to try and ruin this movie for us, I know it.”

“Please, Roman, when has Remus ever ruined anything?” Janus says as innocently as he could, bringing a wine glass that he had just summoned up to his lips. 

“Oh, oh!” Remus wiggles in his seat, excitedly slapping Janus’ knee. “What about that time I ruined Christmas for—”

“Let’s start the movie, shall we?” Janus interrupted Remus quickly. He cleared his throat and waved for the tv to turn on to the movie they had all— in theory— agreed upon. Remus was quickly distracted with a squeal as the classic Disney theme started playing. 

They’ve all settled now that the movie started. There was the added unease as they continued to glance apprehensively in their direction. Janus continued to sip on his wine as Remus’ eyes stayed intently on the screen. 

“So— if I may ask—” Logan started, keeping his eyes on the screen as well as everyone else as he talked. “Why is this your favorite movie, Remus? It seems uncharacteristic.”

“Cinderella is about being hated by her only family left and unable to leave her confinement, forced to act a certain way because of her step-mother’s favoritism,” Remus explained without a thought on if his honesty would make the others uncomfortable, and it certainly did. “Also in the original story, birds scratch out the step-families eyes as karma for being so cruel and I always thought that was neat.”

They all shuffled farther away.

As the movie continued and Janus got steadily tipsier, they’ve started to relax and enjoy the movie. Remus and Janus have started to lean against each other, Remus’ chin on his shoulder and Janus’ head against his. It was always better to drink a little when watching a movie with Remus, makes all the shouting in his ear easier to deal with and all his jokes and facts a little funnier. However, because of the wine, his guard was down around the others and he actually moved to sit on Remus’ lap without thinking about his image, settling Cthulhu in his own lap while Remus wrapped his arms around him. 

He didn’t even remember they were still there until Patton had spoken up about it. 

“I figured you didn’t like hugs, Janus?” He said, startling Janus out of his relaxed state. He tried putting his guard up again, but it was hard when he was a little drunk and also Remus was so warm and comfortable. 

“Doesn’t like hugs? Ha!” Remus let out a loud, incredibly false laugh that made Janus smile and duck his head at the sound. “DJ Anus here loves hugs! Especially when he’s hammered! He’s extra affectionate when drunk, huh sexy?”

Remus squeezes him closer as he teases him and Janus rolls his eyes. He couldn’t help his smile though as he leaned into the touch. He holds up his glass. 

“I’m not hammered, as you say,” he turned his head to look at Remus, nose brushing against his cheek. “I’m… just a little buzzed. Totally different.”

Remus giggled and rocked them back, pulled Janus completely on his lap. Janus looked like a little child as Remus curled around him like a protective shield, Cthulhu abandoned beside them. 

“This is weird…” Virgil muttered, looking mildly uncomfortable with the public affection. “I don’t remember you two being so… close.”

“You never came to our movie nights.”

“Because you made us watch The Purge and then terrorized us for months about it after.”

“Eh, that movie was shit anyways,” Janus waved him off, eyes back on the movie. Cinderella had just found out about the ball. It was only a matter of time before Remus noticed and made any jokes about it, Janus needed to focus on not snorting at any of them to make sure he still had some dignity left after tonight. “Seriously, there are millions of things you can do during these crime free days instead of wearing a mask and murdering innocents.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Remus said. Virgil made a face. 

“I’m still reeling at the fact that anyone would willingly be that close to Remus,” Roman’s expression was sour as he watched them spoon out of the corner of his eye. “Are you not worried he might get too excited like this?”

“Oh, it’s happened before, but it’s nothing to worry about,” Janus clarifies, though he did feel a sting of annoyance at Roman’s disapproval. “And for your information, Remus is a fantastic cuddler. He only smells a little putrid and you get used to it.” 

Remus giggles and hugs Janus tighter for a moment, the deceitful side practically drowning in his arms. He let out an excited shout and pointed wildly at the screen, leaning over Janus. 

“Oh! Oh! This is my favorite scene!” He shouted, referring to Cinderella being trapped in her attic and the added backstory to the step-mother. 

With the distraction in place, they all settled in and watched the end of the movie. Janus thought this night was rather successful. He might think differently tomorrow when he wasn’t drunk, but he did get to spend at least one of these movie nights safe and warm in his favorite side’s arms.

[uwuwriting]

Hurting their best friend/crush w/ Oikawa and Terushima

Request: Oikawa and Terushima the playboy squad y’know, hurting their female best friend and manager with whom they have been in love with for the longest time but are too afraid to make a move. It ends in fluff of course but like maybe their friends are like you messed up man and its a really big fight. thank you. - anonymous 

Playboy squad indeed. I feel like all three of them but mostly Oikawa got their hearts obliterated and that’s why they have adopted that fuckboy persona. These boys just need some real love even though one of them is a rat. Love ya.💖💖💖

rules 

masterlist

warnings: angst to fluff, some cursing

Oikawa Tooru

-It had  been a hard week. 

-Actually a hard year. 

-Oikawa was focused almost solely on volleyball, over doing it many times while you were studying like a maniac.

-Being their manager helped you loosen up.

-Plus it gave you the chance to be with your friend group.

-You had noticed how Oikawa seemed to brush off many of your attempts to hang out, sometimes giving you an excuse to why he couldn’t make while other times ditching you. 

-He hadn’t ditched you many times but it still hurt.

-Knowing that your best friend forgot almost completely of your existence. 

-You had drifted apart the last few months and the only one who noticed apart from you was Iwaizumi. 

-He had seen how he wouldn’t find Oikawa beside you when he came to your lunch table or how you weren’t Oikawa’s first call anymore after a game. 

-It bothered him too. 

-Seeing his two best friends separate like that.

-And Iwa knew you tried to prevent it, he gave you advice on the matter as well.

 -But Oikawa seemed oblivious to the gap that was forming and kept on ignoring you, more and more as time went on. 

-The final straw came when he wouldn’t answer your calls one Saturday evening. 

-It was one of those rare occasions when he had agreed to spend some one on one time with you and you were really excited. 

-You hadn’t seen your best friend for weeks, apart from some small conversations during practice.

-You had been waiting for an hour, the movie you had picked already had started and was now in the second act. 

-If this had happened a few months ago you would have let it slide, made a comment in your group chat and leave it at that but not this time. 

-He had ditched you one too many times and you were sick of it. 

-Making your way to the gym, you were taken aback by the lack of sound coming from inside. 

-You expected to be met with the sound of balls slamming on the opposite wall but nothing, the slamming was replaced by female giggles and a really familiar voice.

-Opening the door slightly you found your best friend being pinned to the court’s floor by one of his fans, her giggles bouncing off the walls as she kissed him. 

-Without a word you left, letting the door slam shut behind you as you walked out of school grounds and straight home. 

-It hurt like hell and you weren’t able to get that image of him pinned to the floor out of your head for the rest of the weekend. 

-He had texted you apologizing for missing your movie night, saying he was practicing late and he got carried away. 

-You answered with a simple okay and didn’t speak to him after that.

-You kept your distance at school, simultaneously avoiding Iwa who knew that Oikawa had done something.

-Volleyball practice was your neutral ground, the only place where you chatted with everyone but still gave him small curt answers. 

-Iwa had had enough of all this so he cornered Oikawa after practice as they were walking home alone, without your normal bubbly presence with them. 

“What the hell did you do to Y/N, Shittykawa?”

“What do you mean? I’m completely innocent.”

“She has been avoiding you like the plague all week and you haven’t even noticed? What the hell happened last Saturday?”

“I didn’t see her...”

“You missed it? Again?”

“It wasn’t my fault! Yui-chan found me at the gym and she kinda jumped on me.”

“You know what’s funny Oikawa? The fact that you claim you love her.”

-That’s why he’s now trying to coax you to open your bedroom door.

- “I’m studying Oikawa leave me alone.”

-His last name leaving your lips hurt, a lot. 

-He had always been Tooru to you or even Shittykawa. 

- “Y/N please, I’m sorry for Saturday I’ll make it up to you!”

-You opened that door then, rage burning in your eyes as you met Oikawa’s pleading face.

 - “Now you care? You have some fucking nerve coming here and giving me some half-assed apology after you ditched me for some chick last Saturday. I don’t need your apologies as much as you don’t need me. So do me the favor and get out of my house.”

-Tooru just stared at you, your words twisting the dagger in his heart. 

-He messed up, he messed up big time. 

- “You saw me with Yui...”

-You were fighting back tears as you looked at him, the sight of your underclassman hovering over him flashing behind your eyelids as you closed your eyes. 

- “Y/N she means nothing I swear, it was nothing, she came at me I-”

- “Why w-would I care what she meant? W-why would I-I care with w-who you make out with?”

- “I care what you think of me!”

-You were full on crying at this point, Tooru shedding his own tears as his fears started clawing their way up his throat. 

-He was losing you.

- “I care what you think of me because I love you. I care what image I create in your pretty mind because I hope that maybe at some point you will look at me in a different light. What I did last Saturday was fucked up and there are no excuses but I’m sorry, I truly am. Please Y/N. I can’t- I can’t lose you. Please....” 

-You wanted to hold onto your anger longer, wanted to truly stay mad at him for more because at the end of the day he deserved it but you couldn’t. 

-You launched yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your sobs became louder. 

-He held you there until your tears ran dry, his arms tight around you as if he was afraid you would slip through his fingers at any moment. 

Terushima Yuuji

-You knew him from middle school. 

-Before the piercings. 

-Before the dyed hair. 

-Before the douchebag attitude. 

-And before the ocean of girls coming and going in his life. 

-It affected your friendship but you managed to survive it. 

-Some girls were just too crazy and possessive, harassing you to leave him alone and that he was theirs.

-Terushima always gave them a glare and a cold “we’re done” before proceeding to hang out with you non stop for a week straight. 

-It was your bro code that no matter what, a relationship would not change who you were to each other. 

-That no one would get in between your friendship. 

-Lucky for you, your love for Yuuji pushed away any potential boyfriends that came waltzing into your life. 

-You are attractive, smart and cute plus you’re funny so many boys tried to go out with you, but you being in love with your best friend prevented you from reciprocating their feelings. 

-Yuuji however changed girlfriends every two days and you were there to witness everything. 

-He came barging in your room every Tuesday and Friday to talk about the new girl that threw herself at him or about the hook up he had during the weekend.

-It hurt you seeing him with others but his short relationships gave you hope that he hadn’t fallen in love yet and that you still had a chance. 

-Then she came. 

-She was a year younger than the two of you and she was the only one that lasted for longer than a week. 

-She knew you two were close and whenever you tagged along with them she was seething with anger. 

-She became territorial to the point that Yuuji should tell her to calm down.

-But he wouldn’t and that let to multiple fights and in the end you two stopped talking to each other. 

-The last straw was during one of his games. 

-You are the manager so you are down at the court with them. 

-Terushima hit the ground really hard after he tried to save the ball and he hurt his shoulder.

 -He was escorted to the bench where you put some ice on his slightly swollen shoulder and wiped away some sweat from his forehead.

-He may have acted like a douche to you but he was still your best friend and you loved him so you couldn’t be cold to him for too long.  

-His girl lost her shit. 

-After the game she started yelling at you and calling you a ‘home-wrecker’ and ‘man-stealer’ along with some really offensive stuff. 

-You were putting her in her place when Yuuji came out and saw the whole scene. 

-She immediately ran to him spewing nonsense and lies about how you came at her for no reason. 

-The face of pure shock and disbelief on your face was enough for Terushima to understand that she was lying. 

-All those other times his ‘girl’ said or acted like a bitch to you came crashing down he was hit by a train of realization. 

-He suddenly was aware of your fight and the possibility of losing you, so he finally acted. 

- “I don’t know what happened but don’t talk about Y/N like that.” 

-She looked so offended for a second before snapping....literally. 

- “You defend her over me? Your girlfriend? She is nothing but a sad little girl who wants to steal you away from me! And you’re encouraging her! She’ll start believing she has a chance with you!!!”

-He just let out a growl and pushed past her wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you into a hug. 

- “Maybe she does.”

-The both of you left the gym and went to blow off some steam at the water fountains.

-After your exchanged apologies you started to mess around throwing playful jabs.

- “Did you mean it? What you said to her.”

- “You mean about us? If you want it to be true than yeah if you don’t then just ignore it.”

-You leaped into his arms squeezing the life out of him as your voice came out in a muffled jumble of words “I want it to be true.”

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