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#all i want in life is to be handled by that man
rosenclaws · 2 days
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logan and his super strength
warnings: minors dni, 18+ only, fem!reader, a little mean logan, degradation, logan gets off on you crying, doggy style, prone bone, logan fucks ur brains out and calls you princess
a/n: gonna be so honest I am ovulating rn and I am so fucking horny for all hugh jackman characters and all i could think about today was getting ruined by Logan
It’s not fair how strong Logan is. Super strength and adamantium bones make for one wicked combination. It’s not fair that he can just man handle you whenever he wants to. How he can put you in any position he wants and you just have to take it. God you love to take it.
On your knees, on your stomach, on your back, against the wall, bent over anything Logan can find. It’s ridiculous how he can just. Move you to his will. Ridiculously hot and god does he know it. That cocky fucking grin as he fucks the life out of you.
The one on his face right now as he has you pinned to the bed. Knees achy from how long he’s held you like this. One hand on your back and the other on your hips. Drilling into you over. and over. and over again. Just fucking relentless. Tears falling down your face as he fucks other orgasm out of you. The bedsheet is torn to shreds from your harsh tugging and Logan’s claws.
“Aw is it too much princess?” Logan coos mockingly.
"Are your poor little knees too tired? It must be so hard for you." His patronizing voice makes you whine.
He grabs your chin and turns your head, kissing you sloppily as he slows down his thrusts. Biting at your lower lip until it's sore. He grins at the tears that stream down your face. You just look so pretty like this. He licks up your cheek and groans.
"Pussy so sweet and tears so salty."
"Logan.." Your whole body aches. Too much pleasure. Your legs are shaking wildly and you can barely stay up.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of ya." He slowly pushes you down until your flat on your stomach.
The burn in your thighs is relieved as you sink to the bed. Logan runs his hands along your naked body. His hard cock slowly sliding across your ass. His cock slides back into your pussy as he holds your legs together. The breath is pushed out of your lungs as he sinks deeper than he's ever been. He lays his body across yours as much as he can. His heavy bones pining you to the bed.
"Holy shit." Logan closes his eyes as you clench around him. You're so much tighter, so much wetter. A cry is ripped from your throat as he draws his cock back and slams into you.
"Fuck!" You wail as Logan sets a punishing pace. You try to crawl forward subconsciously, the pleasure overwhelming you.
"Where do you think you're going?" Logan laughs as he puts more weight onto you.
"You wanted this right? Just too fucked out to stay up on your knees. Gonna make me do all the work." He grins wickedly as he props himself onto his elbows and kisses your shoulder. You let Logan's weight press you to the bed. He's fucked any coherent thought out of your head except the want for more. All you can think of is needing more and more. He's ruining you and you love it.
Logan presses a kiss to the side of your head shushing your mindless babbles and placing his hands on top of yours.
"That's it princess, just be my good girl and take it like you always do."
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luveline · 3 days
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hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)
thanks for requesting! fem, 2k
You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style. 
It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night. 
There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair. 
The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.  
It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death. 
He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them. 
“Hey.” 
You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are. 
“Hi,” you say. 
“I’m Jamison.” 
“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?” 
“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.” 
Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze. 
Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers. 
“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.” 
“Nice, really?” 
Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels. 
He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually. 
“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.” 
You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.” 
“What were you doing? Before all this?” 
“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?” 
“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.” 
You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.” 
You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people. 
It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him? 
Nope. 
You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there. 
You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him. 
“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks. 
You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile. 
Something seems a little wrong. 
“Steve,” you explain. 
“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.” 
You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?” 
“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.” 
“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.” 
“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says. 
You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.” 
“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?” 
“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”
You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers. 
He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down. 
“Hey,” you say. 
Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” 
You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.” 
“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.” 
“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.” 
He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.” 
“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?” 
“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook. 
You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?” 
“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.” 
“It’s not stupid.” 
“I know.” 
That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek. 
You love him so much it must give you an aura. 
“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly. 
You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.” 
He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?” 
“I might’ve.” 
You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer. 
“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.” 
You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.” 
Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”
He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe. 
You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing. 
You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh. 
“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?” 
“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.” 
Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?” 
“He knows.” 
Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose. 
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lemonlover1110 · 18 hours
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 30] Graduation
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff
*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️
**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”
“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.
“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”
“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.
“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”
“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.
You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.
Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 
The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 
If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.
“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.
“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.
“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.
“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.
You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.
“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”
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“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 
“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 
“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”
“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.
“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”
“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.
“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”
“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 
“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 
“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”
“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.
“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.
“Let’s get going.”
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The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 
Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.
You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.
“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.
“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”
“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”
“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.
You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.
“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.
“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.
“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.
“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.
“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.
“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”
“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 
“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.
“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”
“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.
“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”
“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 
“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.
“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.
“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 
“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.
“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”
“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”
“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,
“Have you seen my mom?”
“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.
Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.
“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”
“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”
“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”
“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.
“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”
“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.
“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”
“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.
“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”
“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.
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“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.
“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”
“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.
“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 
Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.
“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.
“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.
“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.
“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.
You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.
“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”
“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”
“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”
“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”
“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.
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You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.
“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.
You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.
Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 
“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.
“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,
“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.
“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”
“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.
Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.
Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 
You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.
“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.
He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.
You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 
You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 
Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.
“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.
“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.
His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.
“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 
“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 
He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”
You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.
“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.
“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.
“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.
“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 
He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.
“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 
You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.
“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 
He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.
“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”
“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”
“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.
You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 
“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.
“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 
“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”
272 notes · View notes
wintersera · 2 days
Text
01 — frozen awakening
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masterlist
— pairing: kim minjeong x scientist!reader
notes: half of the time i was writing out this chapter, i was listening to this “dystopian scifi” ambience on youtube to get into the mindset 😭
cw: pwp, SMUT, reader is a virgin, a guy dies, descriptive language of a gross looking monster, two guns being used, a singular needle, non consensually taking blood.
wc: 11.6k
personal log: no. 235
status performance on the prosthetic arm created approximately 47 days ago:
inactive. per usual. i don’t know why the officer constantly nags me about consistently trying to get the damn thing to work. clearly it isn’t. not one budge, not one twitch. nothing. just a lifeless chunk of metal. i’ve hooked it up to the life source in pod 05, but man, this piece of shit is just too stubborn to move.
but it’s not like i can do anything about it anyway. i was assigned to this position and the officer will kick my ass if i don't manage to make this arm move by the end of this month… what does he know anyway? the military is full meatheads who know nothing about science.
anyway, signing off.
kwon [redacted].
date: 16/01/xxxx
“it’s late, doctor”
with one click of the keyboard, a quick swig of the umpteenth energy drink of today, and one final weary exhale, you recline back into your desk chair, swivelling the black and dusty seat around to meet your coworker.
“i know. but officer kim wants this arm done by next month. can’t afford to leave the lab even if i wanted to” on the table lies a metallic arm, a few wires attached to the wrist and fingers. “oh and to make matters worse, the things not budging. at all…” you say through gritted teeth as your frustration was evident. the thing was a cold and empty vessel, disgustingly soulless, lacking heat and life. this wasn’t something you enjoyed, but you had to do regardless.
again, you let out a weary sigh, propping your elbow up on the table as you rest your head against the heat of your palm. exhaustion was shown in the deep and dark circles that had settled uncomfortably underneath your eyes, your hair carelessly thrown in the messiest and loosest ponytail your fatigued fingers and arms could manage. the same could be said for your lab coat too. the once crisp and prim white material all crumpled up and wrinkled together. then there was your name tag that hung on your breast pocket askew… jesus, when was the last time you had a shower?
“…well, don’t overwork yourself too much, doctor. your intellect exceeds most of us, and if you’re exhausted your research would be gibberish garbage that we wouldn’t be able to decipher, and you know that” the doctor in front of you gently scolded you as they whipped their head towards your slumped over body, a low and equally fatigued chuckle parting from their lips, resting a hand on your back as they point out your scribbled down notes and diagrams “c’mon doctor. i’ll shut down the lab for you. just head back to the dorm”
for what felt like an eternity, you had remained firmly glued to your chair, immersed in your own task. the hours had flown by in a blur of focus and determination, your body stiff and cramped from the prolonged stillness. finally, you pushed yourself to your feet, a chorus of creaks and pops echoed through the empty room, your aching back cracking as you attempted to straighten your spine “alright, but i need to do a quick check around the building first.”
“hey” despite the apparent fatigue in the doctor's face, they addressed you with a hint of spirit “how about we split? that way we both can head back to the dormitory much faster”
“sounds fair. i’ll go check around section 02, there’s more tech in there. i don’t think a rookie like you can handle all that”
feeling the weight beneath your feet, you trudge silently throughout the various corridors, the faint, eerie glow of the flickering blue fluorescent lights casting shadows across the floor. at some point, you swear you could hear the sound of skin slapping across the freezing floors, but you paid no mind to that. maybe it was your mind playing games with you. after all you were on the verge of passing out.
with each step you took, the soft echoes of your footsteps and your laboured breathing ricocheted off the hollow walls. the corridors seemed to stretch out endlessly in the gloom, a sense of disorientation seeping slowly into your body “how long did they have to make these corridors… swear to god i’ll die in one of them some day”
a sense of dread suddenly washed over you. something seemed wrong, like fresh air had wafted through the dusty building. then after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, there was a deafening clash, perhaps a thick sheet of metal had fallen onto the ground flat onto the ground.
protocol states that if you heard a strange sound emitting from any of the rooms, and if no scientist that was assigned were present, it would be best to avoid the area as a whole, maybe to even contact the military in case it was a one of your regular mutant attacks.
yet, for some inexplicable reason, you found yourself trusting your intuition. as you carefully tiptoed into the familiar room, you laid eyes on one of the cryogenic pods. all of them had been occupied by presumably brain dead bodies, preserved for historical records should memory extraction ever be required from the era of old earth. all of the pods were pristinely polished from the top all the way down to the bottom, the glass surfaces gleaming in the darkness. but that one pod. it’s once smooth and functional form was now severely damaged from an unknown cause. the cryogenic liquid that kept the body preserved inside, flowed slowly out of the broken vessel. with a depressing trickle, it pooled around the front of the pod, drops of the substance bringing forth a strange sense of melancholy. it was like a cruel mockery to the warmth and life that it contained.
on the pod was a date of birth, and a name.
“patient 0101, huh? born january 1st 2001.” you muttered, unable to hold back the ironic chuckle “wow, what a birthday to celebrate. now, the name” with the sleeve of your crinkled lab coat, you wiped away the condensation that had clung to the cold metal of the surface.
“ah, shit. old korean lettering” you reached into your pocket to extract out a bizarre looking device. it’s red laser scanning the old korean characters. a beep signalled the completion of the scan, the device’s screen displaying the full translation of the mystery person's name.
“kim minjeong” you read aloud. the name rolled off your tongue easily. though it was a much older version of the current korean language, it still held its similarities.
this was uncharted territory. a cryogenic pod breaking out of the blue was unheard of. a concept so unrealistic and impossible, and yet, against all odds, a body laid there. preserved, untouched. ready to be researched and discovered by an extremely talented scientist. ahem, aka you.
as a researcher, a scientist who specifically specialised in biomedical engineering, neurobiology and material science, you felt the sudden compulsion to retrieve the naked body out from the vessel and cradle it into your arms. the girl felt cold to the touch, lifeless in your embrace.
“doctor jeon doesn’t need to know about this…” fiddling with the radio on your belt, you hastily call in your coworker, the scientist on the other side of the building concentrating on their task
“hey, i’m nearly done closing up your workstation. you sure have a shit ton of empty red bull cans… sheesh”
“uh, about that. just remembered that i’ve got a few important things to attend to. leave without me. oh and don’t close down my workstation you idiot. it’s open for a reason” your mind raced with many questions as you dismissed your coworker so urgently. how did her pod break? who was she? what was old earth like? how would she react to waking up a millennia in the future? was she dreaming whilst under a comatose-like state during the cryogenic freezing?
besides all of the questions swirling around in your mind, you momentarily set them aside to focus on the more pressing matters “you must be cold, right?” you whisper as if you were to wake her from her deep slumber “here, take my coat” you slid off your lab coat, draping it around the girl’s smaller frame. without further thought, you carry the girl’s almost weightless body in your arms, pressing her closely into you, being careful not to jostle her around too much.
again with the endless stream of corridors within corridors and hallways within hallways.
it was bothersome to navigate through them every single day. even after working for years here, some way or another you’d end up lost “i don’t have time for this…” you tread carefully throughout the lengthy halls, holding onto the naked girl’s body with a tight grip.
upon hearing footsteps of a nearby officer, you quickly, yet cautiously step closer and closer to your workstation on the far end of the room you had just entered.
it was a long day, and you hadn’t had time to perform the sterilisation procedure in a hot minute. but there was another issue at hand, you had a girl in your arms.
fuck it.
you adjusted your grip carefully, holding her up with one arm and one hand, and the other arm free to clean up the possibly stained table from your previous fiasco. carefully you slinged her over your shoulder as you began the tedious process of thoroughly cleaning the surface.
cryogenic incident log no.1
subject: patient 0101, kim minjeong.
DoB: january 1st, 2001 (old earth era)
vitals: currently unconscious. vitals are weak, however pulse and respiratory rates are within a safe and acceptable range. brain activity, questionable (most likely due to a millennia of cryogenic preservation)
condition: slightly hypothermic
appearance: asian, 5’4, quite frail. appears to be in her 20’s, pale skin (either from cryogenic preservation or genetics), bleached blonde hair.
extra notes: further examination and tests are required to determine the subject's health status and her identity. subject kim minjeong has a rather peculiar mark on her neck. further examination will be performed once subject kim minjeong regains consciousness.
kim minjeong will be placed under doctor kwon [redacted]‘s care until further notice.
date: 16/01/30xx
there you were, observing the young woman’s unconscious body sprawled across table. a multitude of wires were attached to her, one particular one on her chest just below the collarbone. that specific wire was connected to a monitoring device, displaying the activity of her heart on a dusty and almost broken up screen, thanks to the military’s lack of investment, and also not giving a shit about the devices you scientists had to work with. each placement of different leads were positioned accordingly; every vital signe shown on the screen. she was somehow alive despite her predicament.
all signs showed that she was fine, but deep down you knew there was definitely something up with her.
the wavelength began to accelerate, which made your own heart drop out of sheer panic.
she was quickly regaining consciousness and you didn’t know what to do.
minjeong’s fingers twitched underneath the white polyester blanket that covered her bare body. you could see them moving one by one, each finger wriggling around as they struggled to find life. and for a split second, you swear you could see her eyes twitch.
as sick and twisted as it may be, seeing her sprawled out on the table had you thinking a few inappropriate things. she was out, unconscious as a person could get… so vulnerable under the thin and flimsy blanket. with her in mind, you huffed out a small unexplainable sigh.
without warning, her arm jolted suddenly. her muscles began to spasm for a few one second intervals until they both came to a stop.
and then, with a gasp, minjeong’s eyes snapped open. her body sprung up right, heavily panting, her bare chest heaving with deep breaths as she whipped her head around the dimly lit room.
“…hello?”
“hi…”
no amount of training could have prepared you for such a situation. a whole ass woman, who you thought was on the brink of death, was alive. a woman who was born a millennia ago right in front of your very eyes “there… might be a language barrier between us. do you understand what i’m saying?” you clutched the alien looking translation device in the palms of your hands, scanning over the subject for any signs of distress.
“where am i?” this girl looked around frantically, taking in the foreign surroundings. the wires were hooked onto the monitors that were connected to her body, the dimly lit turquoise coloured room, the constant beeping of her heart beat showcasing on one of the alien looking devices right next to her. all of it was creating a sense of disorientation and confusion. she had no idea where she was, what year it was. then there was you, standing behind the glass as your eyes shined bright in contrast to the darkness.
“maybe she’s simply disorientated…” you mutter under your breath. well, since she had just woken up from a one thousand year sleep, would it be alright to tell her the truth. “you- you’re inside a facility. the whole cryogenic free-“
“then where’s my money?” she abruptly interrupted you to ask one of her questions “where’s the one million i was promised? i need to get to my family” with a silent curse, minjeong ripped off the wires attached to her body, throwing the equipment onto the floor as she attempted to stand up from the table.
at least she understood you.
“hey, hey- no, don’t stand up yet. you’re going to be a little dizzy, well not little, but you’re going to fall over” opening the airlocked door to the examination room, hastily, you came to the woman’s side, holding her frigid shoulders with one swift movement of your arm “let me at least get you a wheelchair, and maybe some clothes”
“that would be nice. this room is freezing cold” minjeong shuddered under the room's iced temperature. the AC was on full blast in the dead of the night for some reason.
“honestly, that might just be because you’ve woken up from being frozen. you're chilled to the bone” you guided minjeong outside the examination room with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. it was a futile attempt to transfer over your body heat to her freezing body, but it was better than nothing. you were desperate to help her combat the cold that seemed to have seeped into her very bones.
you led minjeong further into the facility, guiding her gently, but firmly, into the long deserted corridors. eventually, the two of you had walked long enough, coming across a familiar faint and eerie glow from the flickering blue fluorescent overhead lights. whilst walking, you and minjeong hadn’t uttered one word. just awkwardly clearing your throat from time to time as you attempted to pry your eyes away from minjeong, who had your lab coat draped around her shoulders. you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable she looked; goosebumps covering her entire body, exhausted, somewhat distant.
finally, you had made it to your destination. a locker room, and the much more technically advanced ones too. with biometric scanners for locks, uniform compartments and protective equipment and gear. this one also had a private stall for showers in case of a sudden outbreak of… something? well, anything really. sometimes random liquids could splash all over you, or maybe you just fell in some dirt on the way here.
“let’s hope that there’s extra clothing somewhere” your hand slid across minjeong’s bare back as you parted from her body. quickly, with your handprint identification, the door slid right open, lights flickering and steam hissing as it exited the now opened room “oh, this steam is just for sterilisation purposes, no need to worry”
minjeong simply nodded her head, moving carefully inside the futuristic locker room. the door slid shut as you stepped inside with minjeong, comfortably undoing your top button with one hand “not much of a talker, are you? neither am i, guess i’ll make it a little less uncomfortable by talking outside my comfort zone.”
the younger womam once again nodded. she seemed a little stiff, but that was to be expected. new environment, no people around except for the two of you, a whole new world that she wasn’t familiar with, and to repeat it again, she was naked “i’ll introduce myself later when i find you something to wear. now… let’s see”
nothing other than a few crinkled lab coats here and there. of course you felt bad, minjeong was practically on the verge of becoming hypothermic. the AC didn’t help either, but you couldn’t turn that off for safety reasons. luckily for you, in your own locker - which you should have checked in the first place, had a few of your more casual clothes in there. just a plain black shirt and plain black pants “will this do?”
after what seemed like an excruciating prolonged silence, minjeong had finally spoken up with a hushed voice - most likely because she hadn’t talked properly for god knows how long “enough with the yapping. i need the money for my family. that’s why i went and got myself frozen in the first place”
how could you tell a vulnerable girl that her family was dead, and that she had been kept safe in the military for a millennia without freaking her out?
“that- i can’t do that” you chewed your lip nervously “see, you’re inside a military and science facility”
she tilts her head in a confused manner. it made no sense to her unless she was tricked into some sick experiment. she doubted you for a second, scoffing at your face until she realised that maybe you were right.
“so i’ve been tricked. is that what you’re implying? i’ve been tricked into becoming a test rat?”
to assume you were going to use her for tests so unethical like that was crazy. though, you understood why she would come to such a conclusion.
“absolutely not. i don’t know the full story of how we ended up with these pods in our care, nor do i know why yours happened to break during this night. it’s never happened before”
her slender arms folded across her chest, leaning back on the wall as she assessed your body language. it seemed like she was ready to pounce. given her height in comparison to yours, it somehow frightened you “how do i know you’re not lying to me?”
“cctv footage of me walking into the room you were unconscious in” you reply back immediately.
“you got me there”
“that i did. anyway, i can assure you that i have no ill intentions whatsoever, so don’t worry about anything for now.” you tossed her your clothes, turning your back around to respect her privacy, then pointing towards the shower room where she could freshen up. until you realised that maybe the shower was most likely foreign to her as well.
as much as you wanted to help, you pushed down the idea of doing so. that was until she called you for help.
since it was the year 30xx, showers might have undergone a few technological advances. from what you could remember from reading articles about old earth, maybe showers now hadn’t gone through much changes within the span of those long years.
“jesus christ, just- just tell me what button switches this thing on. why would you need a button for aromatherapy? or holographic images? what is that for anyway, porn in the shower?” minjeong was an amusing person for sure. her crude comment made you chuckle for the first time in a couple of days. she was quite the character for someone who had woken up a mere 45 minutes ago, already showing such a colourful personality.
“it’s to scroll through information that we could have possibly missed while showering, but maybe some people use it for pornographic content” you turned the metal knob around, much like how the showers functioned back in the 2000’s. minjeong thought that it would be a tad more complex than that, but the shower was straightforward. one thing about these showers was that it immediately set itself to spray warm water rather than having to wait for ot to heat it. ‘huh, perks of being inside a scientist facility’ is what minjeong thought.
“pornographic content you say?” she cackled, slipping your un-ironed lab coat off, the fabric pooling onto the floor as she stepped inside of the shower “you’re so formal”
you spin around as fast as possible, eyes darting up towards the ceiling as minjeong stripped herself from the only thing that covered her naked body “sorry. i don’t talk that often… or to many people. i can be less formal if you like?”
“do what you want” drops of water splashing on the hard surface of the acrylic tiles created a soothing symphony of sounds, minjeong’s soft humming mingling with the rhythmic pitter-patter, the steam that flowed out of the stall caressed around the room in a warm and enveloping cloud and the noises of wet linen sliding against minjeong’s dampened skin distracted you from breathing.
“is the temperature to your liking?”
“it is. the water feels good on my skin”
loosen up doc, why are you so stiff and awkward?
you, an introverted scientist who preferred the company of work rather than social interactions made it difficult for you to respond back to her. your mind raced with a multitude of different things to say, but to your avail, all you could do was stand frozen in place, feeling helpless and out of your depth. the thought of talking to her or saying something witty flew right out of the window, replaced by the overwhelming awkwardness that weighed you down as if you were carrying bricks on your shoulders. you wanted to say something, literally anything, but your mouth failed you.
“how long was i asleep for…?” the younger woman sounded much more vulnerable than before. that veil of bravery slipping off her lonesome facade as she knocked on the glass door of the shower “can’t be that long right? i mean, the company said 10 years more or less from what i remember”
it was a hard pill to swallow, but you were never one to sugarcoat over anything, especially when it came to situations like this - unless you were lying to the overseers.
“do you want the hard truth?” minjeong reluctantly nodded, but obviously you couldn’t see that since your back was facing her.
“is it that bad?” you finally turn around, reluctantly, as you swallow saliva harshly down your throat.
yes it was that bad.
making yourself comfortable, and also readying yourself for any potential outburst, you pressed your back onto the wall, leaning against its smooth surface “how should i say this… well, for starters, do you see anything in particular that catches your eyes?”
“don’t play mind games with me. hurry up and give me the truth.” albeit impatient, minjeong browsed around the room, her eyes locking onto some sort of device and you follow suit. ah, the biometric scanners “i… i’m guessing i’m- no, we’re in the near future”
“unfortunately, no… we’re about-” the next words were spoken under your breath in a calming manner to ensure minjeong wouldn’t freak the fuck out “about one thousand years into the future”
minjeong’s eyes widen momentarily, looking at you with nothing but pure disbelief “one- one thousand…?”
the poor girl laid her back flush against the wet wall and slid down until she sat on the soaked acrylic tiles. she looked dejected. her body curled into a ball as she hugged her legs close to her chest, softly whimpering - which eventually turned into a full on sob. it broke your heart to see her in so much pain, wailing away her sorrows while clutching onto the wall in an attempt to compose herself, but nothing worked.
so with haste, you made your way towards her, sliding away the glass door until you too were soaked underneath the warm spray of water, focus remaining solely on the sobbing woman huddled on the floor. you were never the one to comfort people, but for minjeong’s sake, you knelt down onto the ground, embracing her as she cried away the pain.
no words were exchanged between the two of you for a while. the both of you held each other dearly, until minjeong’s cries came to a halt “so that means my family… my family is gone…”
“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately yes… to my knowledge, humans don’t live for more than one thousand years” your futile attempts of comforting brought minjeong back into another fit of pain and denial. her dainty fingers clutched onto the back of your white buttoned up shirt, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as she began to sob once more.
“on the brightside, you- uh, you’re safe and sound here… i’d like to fill you up- i mean fill you in with what’s happened over the course of your millennia long sleep, but only if you’re ready” your brief and unnoticed mistake caused you to slap yourself around your face, mentally.
thankfully minjeong didn’t catch onto your mistake, instead, she buried her head further, holding you closer and closer to her body “sorry, i’m not good at comforting people…” she only gave a quick nod before leaning back, looking you up and down as you let the warm water cascade down your face, and also soaking the clothes you were wearing.
“where am i supposed to go now? my family is gone, it’s one thousand years into the the future and i’m not getting my money's worth—“
suddenly, minjeong was cut off by the loud blaring of an emergency siren, followed by the piercing screech that startled the two of you in the shower. sounds of metal groaning eventually coming to a stop until it sounded again. doors being pried open by what seems to be a grotesque amalgamation of flesh was shown on one of the cctv cameras. thankfully, the video was caught on the camera right inside one of the multiple hallways, now the image of the thing treading with unsettling movements throughout the facility was being displayed on the holographic screen inside of the shower “…what the hell is that thing?”
“a mutant…”
you shot up from where you knelt down, urgently pulling minjeong out from the shower. to your left was a button. the button in question being slammed by your fist locked the locker room with a series of steel shutters falling from the ceiling.
“here, wear the clothes i gave to you. i’ll… dry myself up” as you threw the pile of clothes in minjeong’s direction, you threw off your soaked clothes and dried them up almost instantly with one of the much larger contraptions in the far corner of the room. once they were done drying, and you were now fully dressed again, you searched around the room for a weapon to protect yourself from that thing that seemed to run, or well, slide at high speeds towards a lone soldier “aw fuck, there goes officer lee” minjeong followed the direction of where you threw your clothes and followed suit, drying herself up, which went rather fast.
the bloodied scream echoed throughout the empty facility in the most eerie way possible. the flesh creature seemed to have broken a few bones in the poor soldier's body as the cracks happened to leak through the thick walls of the room… which was fairly strange considering the walls were thick as hell. the poor man's screams must have been loud enough for him to be heard like that.
minjeong, having no clue as to what was going on, stood behind you as she stayed frozen in place. what she had just seen on the cctv footage was a mutant, one of the more dangerous looking ones as well.
it’s body was composed of multiple corpses pulsating together in one disgusting ball of flesh and broken bones. the way it moved was uncanny, how it glided over floors leaving trails of slick and blood wherever it moved. not only that, but it barely had a face. could you even call it a face at that point? it’s mouth was a combination of multiple mouths from the fallen bodies melting together. the thing didn’t have a nose, well it did, but it was just two holes on it’s supposed ’face’. as for the eyes… it’s eyes were scattered all over it’s body. and if we were talking about limbs, you could say it had none, since they were all collectively melded together.
in one of the unlocked lockers was a new and improved weapon, a simple rifle that was kept solely for emergencies like these. unfortunately you were never the one to hold such weapons since this was completely out of your field, but minjeong, oh god, the woman took the gun out of your hands and held it with such precision that it rendered you speechless. she had the stance of a soldier, holding the gun in such a way that it impressed you given the fact that she was still adapting to a new world “what’s that thing's weak point?”
“don’t tell me you’re gonna shoot the damn thing with that gun?” you turn your head towards her, fascinated at her bravery.
“it beats letting it roam free”
“doesn’t have a weak point… it’s best if you incinerate it. since it looks like it’s a cluster of living people, i’m assuming it has multiple hearts and multiple organs” to your knowledge, the laboratory you work in holds a plasma gun, strong enough to melt its target “it would be risky to even leave this room right now. we need to stay put and-“
emergency alarms screeched throughout the locker room. lights flashed red as the damn mutant was prying itself through the tough steel that was keeping you two safe “fuck- get behind me” minjeong yelled, taking a step in front of you as she cocked the rifle, waiting for the moment the creature decided to slip inside the large gash in the wall.
you decided to stay quiet, watching as the thing squeezed itself through the cracks. although the creature was solid, the thing forced itself through the cracks, it’s body moved like liquid until it reformed back into its unnatural state. you’ve never ever seen such motion in a mutant before, and it was very worth studying for later breaches like this.
its body stretched upwards, sizing up the two of you as it readied its deformed mouth, unhinging its so-called jaw as if it was ready to engulf its prey.
minjeong ever so swiftly shot inside its mouth, rendering the mutant stunned for a couple of seconds. she took this time to escape with you, dragging your arm as you both ran down the long corridors “we need to get to my lab. there’s a plasma rifle somewhere in there. i-it’s probably our only chance of ridding ourselves from this thing”
“then lead the way”
body overrun with adrenaline, you ran for your life, swerving through corridor to corridor as the mutant chased behind you and minjeong. it’s erratic movement really threw you off. one moment the damn thing is on the ground, next thing you know and it’s sliding up and down the walls, trying to block off your exits.
finally, god- finally, you and minjeong made it towards the lab, losing the mutant for now. as you slam your fist onto a large red button, thicker sheets of metal slid down from the ceiling, sort of protecting you from the creature.
you laid flat on the floor, catching your breath, chest heaving up and down as you groggily looked towards minjeong who seemed completely fine. what was she? some kind of superhuman? minjeong stood her ground right in front of the door, checking if the mutant was about to break through the tough steel with its enormous body. and thankfully, a few minutes go by without a peep from outside.
“where’s that gun you were talking about?” still laying flat against the ground, you point towards a sleek black case on a desk right behind you.
“t-there… it’s in there” minjeong casually tiptoed her way towards the table, quiet enough so that the mutant that could potentially be outside couldn’t hear. with two hands carefully placed on each side of the case, she unclasped it slowly. the case opened with a click.
and there it was in all its glory. newly made, recently tested and proven its worth - a plasma rifle that was millions better than its previous models “does it work like a regular rifle?” as she picked the rifle up in her hands, she held her breath, observing the cold and smooth material. it seemed to hum with otherworldly energy, its alien technology unfamiliar to her felt terrifying yet thrilling.
“uh, yes? if you’re referring to the ones used back then, maybe no…?” after being glued onto the floor for god knows how long, you finally stand up with wobbly legs, stabilising yourself on a desk right besides you “well it’s got the trigger and everything else a rifle would need, so… i think it works the same! i-i don’t know. maybe test it out?”
“if i shoot it wrong, this is your fault”
minjeong slammed the button right beside the door, retracting the metal walls back into the ceiling. the cluttering caught the attention of the creature nearby, its body hurtling itself towards the sound. it moved at a disgustingly high velocity, the sheer force of its massive body colliding into the walls boomed throughout the facility as it couldn’t even keep up with its own speed.
the younger woman slowed down her breathing, focused solely on the mutant hurtling towards her direction. with unbreaking precision, minjeong quickly pulled the trigger.
after a few seconds, the creature bursted through the metal doors with a deafening roar. at this point, you thought you were about to die a horrible death. that was until you saw a bright indigo beam shoot right through the mutant’s body.
another beam was fired. then another beam, and another for good measure. multiple beams were shot into different parts of the things body. its bloodcurdling scream rang into your ears, causing you to momentarily become deaf. it screeched, wailed and flopped around until it finally came to a stop, becoming a heap of melted flesh and blood on the ground.
“what kind of future is this? minjeong’s breath wavered, staring directly at the gross, melted and burnt corpse, or well, corpses on the floor. she kicked it’s remains, the frail thing still sizzling away from the intense heat it just took in every vital part of its body.
“not a fun and bright one”
-
what seemed to be a long walk within the facility; flickering fluorescent lights illuminating your way towards the military’s housing units, you had explained what had happened in the past thousand years.
long story short, the world had been plunged into chaos when a nuclear war broke out. it all began with a world leader becoming unhinged and issuing threats to other countries, which quickly spiralled into World War Ill. in the years that followed after the catastrophe, the radiation from the bombs and the fallout continued to mess with the environment and society, turning things into radioactive sludge or infecting more than half of the population. this led to the military, in multiple different countries, to seize control and impose martial law. with their power, they prioritised scientific progress and advancements, hence why the scientists work so closely with the military… even though it seems as if the south korean military have recently been straying away from their main goals in the past few years.
“so, that thing that chased us down… did it, or did it not have a consciousness?” you didn’t have a definite answer to her question. it could have, it couldn't have. you couldn’t know for sure, and it would stay that way due to the fact that the mutant was already dead.
“can’t say for sure. but for my sanity and yours, i’ll say no” as you two continued to chat away, you stayed vigilant, scanning the surroundings for potential security threats. a soldier could walk past, security footage could be captured of you two and you didn’t like the thought of being caught with a person of the past, especially since you were treading around science and military ground.
every corner and hallway presented a new opportunity for someone to spot minjeong, so you kept your pace quick and light, opting to stay in the shadows rather than walking into the more brightly lit areas, or open spaces that could be monitored by the cctv cameras. despite your efforts, you still felt as though something, or someone, was watching you closely.
eventually the two of you made it back to your assigned room in the middle of the night. the door slid open as soon as you scanned your hand print, the same sterilised steam enveloped yours and minjeong’s body as you stepped inside your bleak grey room.
“make yourself comfortable” you say, stripping off your worn out lab coat, dumping the poor old fabric somewhere in the corner of your neglected room. settling down into the chair in front of your desk, you gesture for minjeong to step inside. the air was slightly dry, a reminder of how little you spent your time in the tight quarters the scientists called ‘home’.
“it’s a little… ahem- bland in here” she coughed out, wafting around her hand to circulate some air. she sat down on the grey mattress, sinking into the sort of dense material of your double bed. the poor thing had been left for god knows how long, evidently shown by a thin layer of dust having formed on every surface possible. there was no life in your so called bedroom, no pictures, no sense of personality whatsoever.
“i don’t spend a lot of time in here” you confess, taking out your slightly outdated laptop and turning the alien looking technology - from minjeong’s perspective, at least, from one of the empty storage boxes to your right.
“yeah. i can see clearly” her delicate fingers ran across the top of your beds headboard, collecting the dust underneath her fingertips “you seem like the person to sleep in a laboratory” scanning at your dishevelled appearance with a keen eye.
adjusting the screen of your laptop, you chuckle dryly “perceptive much” on some occasions, yes, you did tend to fall asleep on your desk, maybe even drool a little too. after all, you were basically up all night since the day you were assigned to this specific position given to you from one of the higher ups “and yeah, i have”
for other reasons you didn’t stay inside your own room. there were many explanations as to why; the room was a shockingly low temperature, the walls were surprisingly thin considering that the entire facility’s walls were made out of thick sheets of metal - and god, hearing the snores of over a hundred people, all collectively inharmonious and unbearably loud in a single night can drive a person off the walls.
so, if not for the room, where did you stay?
“i actually have another place. somewhere far out, that’s why it’s so dusty in here” minjeong hums, finally resting her weary body on the unused sheets. it was a long day, ironically. waking up from a deep sleep, to then take another after something rather traumatising happened not too long ago. she needed some shut eye.
“you still haven’t told me your name yet”
you reply almost instantly without looking at minjeong, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you began to write “it’s doctor kwon y/n. call me whatever you want”
“alright, doc” how cute.
personal log: no. 236
two interesting things happened over the course of this night.
one. a young woman called kim minjeong woke up from the cryogenic pods in section 02. don’t really know how that happened. the machine broke and it’s glass was shattered all over the damn floors, and the liquid was pooling everywhere…
poor girl was on the brink of permanent freezing, thank god i was there. from my understanding, and from lurking through the database, nothing like this had ever happened before. it was truly fascinating… studying her body like that. it’s not everyday that you see a living and breathing relic from one thousand years ago.
two. a weird mutant breached through the facility's walls. definitely need to talk to one of the higher ups about this in the morning.
lord, i mean the thing was disgusting. never seen a mutant like that before… it was moving so strange and so inhuman. like regular human mutants are, on most occasions, bipedal, but this thick fuck moved as if it was living slime. it had no damn legs?
not only that, but it’s whole body was composed of multiple mutant humans. anyway, one thing that stuck out was the way it seeped through the gap in the wall. how do i explain this? well for starters, it shaped itself and moved like liquid, and fuck? it can stick onto walls and run, no, slide at an alarming speed.
it’s best if i study both that mutant and minjeong.
signing off.
kwon [redacted].
date: 16/01/xxxx
concentrated on your next task of filing an incident report to send in for the morning, you failed to notice the soft sobs from the younger woman laid flat on your bed. as minjeong clutched the thin blanket, her face pressed against the dense pillow, she tried her very best to hold in the tears left from earlier inside the shower. after the events that took place a few minutes ago, she was subjected to her own thoughts once again. her family, friends, colleagues and the people of the past were all gone.
a distant memory…
seriously though. how could you make her feel better about a situation like this? many thoughts racked in that smart brain of yours, but none of them seemed good enough to comfort someone who was mourning the loss of multiple long gone lives. the only option left was to comfort her physically, which wasn’t your forte.
so, having to take a quick shower, scrubbing down your body head to toe so you don’t smell like sweat and coffee, you leave the bathroom with a thin veil of mist trailing behind. the immediate transition from the cosy warmth of the shower to the biting cold of your bedroom left goosebumps on your skin.
minjeong, who’s eyes were red from all the crying, looked up at you curiously “are you seriously going to sleep next to me?”
“i mean, it’s my bed. plus, i don’t know how to comfort you, so this is my best attempt at it” minjeong simply huffed, moving aside the blanket to fit you right next to her.
taking up her invitation, you awkwardly shuffle into your bed despite it being your own. the rustling of your clothes, the soft breathing coming from minjeong, and the heat radiating off her body brought more tension to the room, more than you were used to. you wondered if sleeping next to her was making her feel less lonely, but really, the whole thing was a stupid idea.
on the inside you were panicking, keeping up a calm and collected facade whilst you discarded one thought for another terrible one. she was alone in a new world, and you wanted to at least alleviate the emptiness she was experiencing, but how? a hand rested on minjeong’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way to somehow console the poor woman.
“i know you’re feeling an unexplainable amount of pain, however-” not to sound like a broken record, but again, you were never the best at comforting people. besides the point, you had to try either way, and thankfully your knowledge and studies surrounding neurosciences helped massively “did you know that, uh- that there’s various chemicals that can reduce stress and are associated with positive emotions”
minjeong’s curiosity piqued, listening intently as she still sniffled time to time while she stayed wrapped in your blanket on her now claimed side of the bed.
“dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin. those are the three feel good hormones that are released during… certain activities”
besides the obvious implications, minjeong tilted her head in a way that made your heart skip. she seemed so vulnerable, too much for your poor heart to take. it took her a while to understand what you were hinting at, but she eventually got the memo as you continued to explain what you were referring to with a flustered expression, hiding behind the blankets as if it minjeong was the one to bring it up first.
“what?” she chuckled at your beet red face “don’t get all shy now. you suggested it”
“no, no i didn’t suggest anything. i-i was only just informing you about it since you were clearly upset, and i wanted to see if you would want to try since i couldn’t figure out another way for you to feel better…” in all honesty, there were much better ways to go around this situation. maybe offering minjeong the money she was promised, but then again, where would she use the money “okay, maybe i was suggesting it. but we don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable-“
“i’ve got nothing to lose anyway. sure, let’s do it” despite her strained voice due to her sobs, her softly spoken confidence impressed you “i might as well take up the offer anyway. take my mind off what’s happened since i woke up i guess…”
a lump formed in your throat.
“wait, what?”
to say you were shocked was an understatement.
“oh come on, you suggested it. don’t tell me you’re going to back up now, damn” minjeong seemed to be looking forward to this, but god would she be disappointed if she found out you were a virgin “unless. don’t tell me you’re a…”
“what? no, it’s not like- well it is like that. see i don’t have the time for all that stuff you know. i’ve been studying and working almost all my life” you confess with a hint of embarrassment.
“jesus christ” in a way, minjeong was slightly frustrated, but it couldn't be helped. though, she found it rather amusing how easily you say things without considering to stop and think “it’s like you’re trying to blue ball me. i was expecting a little something from you, doc”
“then what can i possibly do with little expertise? i’m not going to dive in head first into some uncharted territory, minjeong”
“why do you make it sound like it’s so complicated? ‘uncharted territory’… doc, i’m sure you’ll be alright” minjeong gave you a reassuring smile - a genuine one too, slowly peeling away the thin blanket from her clothed body.
sex really wasn’t often the main focus in your life. every time you had such thoughts, you’d push them into the deepest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to focus on much more important and pressing matters. maybe this is why you never had many close friends as well. always pushing them away in favour of continuing your research and studies. but now was your chance to try something you’ve never done before.
…and you were about to have sex with minjeong, who seemed to have caught your attention a little too much.
“i’ll try my best”
first of all, was it you topping her or vice versa? given what you had said earlier, it was most likely you doing all the work. after all, you were the one to lightly hint at it.
if you could, you would’ve looked up on how to ‘initiate sexual intercourse in the least awkward way possible’, but alas, it was too late for your poor self—
“don’t keep me waiting, doc” without hesitation, minjeong took off the shirt you lent, throwing the balled up fabric mindlessly in some neglected corner once she had straddled your thigh “someones gotta help me release those feel good hormones, or whatever you said earlier” with the absence of her shirt, her tits were exposed to the cold air. her pretty pink and puffy nipples out for you to ogle at. shit.
you didn’t exactly know where to look, nor what to do. the added pressure of minjeong’s body trapping you between her small body and your dense bed had rendered you speechless. so this was step one, what comes next. from what you had overheard in a colleagues conversation, the next step would be to maybe kiss her? or would it be to touch her body?
your hands seemed to stutter as you carefully hovered your clammy palms above minjeong’s chest. a part of you wanted to go for it immediately, this was of course your first time anyway. but another part in you held back. it was nerve racking to say the least.
minjeong stared at you with doe like eyes, anticipating for what comes next. although it took you quite a while to figure out what part comes first, then what part comes after the first part and so forth “my god. just touch me, damn” she huffed, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm flat against her tits.
at a loss of words, you froze for a good few seconds before feeling your face immediately heat up. your eyes flicked down from where she had placed your hand then back to her face, then back down again. certain things had a set way of executing stuff, so to have your hand cupped against her chest was surprising, yet not unwelcomed at all. just… it kind of threw you off guard. you thought you should have kissed her first before anything really.
“s-shouldn’t i kiss you, then place my hand on your boobs?” you admit, you sounded like an absolute buffoon in front of her, but hey, not your fault for thinking that there was an order you should follow.
minjeong simply scoffed “pft- no? i’m no prude. but if you want that, then go ahead. come and kiss me” before you knew it, minjeong pulled you upwards, throwing her arms around your shoulders. for her height and size, she was surprisingly kind of strong.
“wait, i don’t know how to do that either” you were too nervous to even think about kissing her, the thought alone made you flustered beyond belief. however, too afraid to disappoint her, inch by inch, you came closer to her face, her hot breath fanning against your quivering lips.
it should’ve been you doing all that work, not minjeong manoeuvring you to her will. you were supposed to be the one to take control instead of her. but besides that, you strengthened your resolve, shaking off the anxiety that caused you to behave like a wuss, which was in fact not like you at all. much like the movies you watched, you shut your eyes as you closed the gap between you and minjeong. for a brief second minjeong hesitated, but with time, the two of you shared a rather delicate and sweet kiss.
“was… was that okay?” it was a quick and innocent peck on her lips. minjeong chuckled, stroking your jaw with her hand before tilting your head to the side by your chin.
“how about you follow my lead instead” thumb resting on top of your lower lip, minjeong parted your mouth open. leading from where you stopped, minjeong kisses you slow and soft, savouring the taste of your lips. she caught your bottom lip in her teeth ever so gently, moving towards you again to kiss you with a much needed intensity this time. your hand was still rested on her chest, clearly not knowing exactly what to do with them. noticing this, minjeong guides your hands, squeezing her hand around yours to mimic the action of you doing it to her.
the contact alone made you groan. her boobs were nice and soft, modest, but they fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. the sensation they provided was so much more better than you had ever imagined. and without guide from minjeong, your hands instinctively moved across her body; drawing circles on her back, sliding your hands up and down the sides of her body, occasionally coming back up to her boobs to tease her sensitive nipples all while you let her savour your lips.
minjeong momentarily pulled away, stroking a few strands of hair away from your face “that’s it doc… just like that” her approval felt great to hear, made you more motivated, more confident in your actions “shit… mhm…” she groaned against your lips, pressing herself against your thigh as she rocked her hips back and forth.
this kiss gradually turned passionate. with you not knowing how or what to do, your teeth had accidentally clashed into hers briefly, but that didn’t deter her from carrying on. minjeong felt the need to take more from you, eagerly pushing her tongue inside your mouth to deepen this kiss, which in return, had you whipering pathetically. minjeong thought that your reaction was utterly adorable; she needed to hear more of those sounds.
upon your reaction, you pushed minjeong back a little. what came out of your mouth was entirely unexpected, and it kind of shocked you at how submissive you really did sound “s-sorry… it felt a little weird. but not a bad weird, you know. more like a, uh, tingly sensation”
“that usually means that what i’m doing is good. i take pride in my kissing skills thank you very much” despite the view in front of you, you couldn’t take your mind off of something else. between her thighs was a slightly damp sensation right on top of your own thigh. a small grin, a rather mischievous one, played across her face, giving her the expression of someone who had something up their sleeve.
whatever she was doing right now in the moment already had you a mess. what she had in mind would most likely have you confused, aroused, but definitely lost.
“move your hand down” she commanded. minjeong didn’t like to play around, always the type of girl to get what she wanted. you didn’t know that of course, but whatever, you obeyed anyway.
extremely hot and slippery was the only way you could describe what you felt in her lower regions. curious as ever, your fingers explored her covered pussy as if you hadn’t touched one before, because you haven’t. even though your touch was as light as a feather, the volume of her moans that fell from her lips sent your body into a temporary freeze. it was okay, you were okay. more than okay really. you were ecstatic.
honestly, you thanked yourself for turning off the bedside lamp. if it wasn’t for your hatred of a single shred of light whilst you were sleeping, minjeong would have seen your joyous smile in its full glory. now you were riled up, and it was evident in the way you glided your finger up and down her slit, her wetness clinging to your skin, enveloping them in a sticky warm mess.
it wasn’t like you to become so easily obsessed with something so quickly, but the way minjeong rolled her hips as soon as your fingers made contact with her throbbing heat had your head spinning around in circles “fuck— you said you were inexperienced doc. what’s with the sudden boost of confidence”
you didn’t quite understand it yourself, but there was something enchanting about minjeong. kind of like how sirens would lure their prey in with their looks, or their voices. either way, the comparison made sense in your head. she was naturally alluring, and it seemed like she knew about that “don’t know” you muttered, fingers pressing against a certain spot that piqued your curiosity “maybe it’s the fact that i’m interested in your body. it feels good to touch you down here specifically… it’s throbbing”
“my clit?” a smirk played on her lips, slowly grinding her swollen clit against the tips of your fingers, much like she was doing previously on your thigh.
“clitoris is the right term” after correcting her, you were too focused on the rolling of her hips to notice that you groaned out loud. and as a response, minjeong chuckled.
“you’re so unsexy. just use the word clit” her attitude prompted you to roll your eyes in slight annoyance.
“alright then. your clit is throbbing. was that any better?” all while you bickered with minjeong, your fingers never stopped moving, and neither did her hips. eventually the thin layer of cloth that kept you away from touching her directly, was moved aside by your hurried hand “you know what. just take of your pants”
“i’ll do you one better” her weight shifted off your body for a while as she fumbled with taking off the pajama pants you lent her. shortly after she threw the item of clothing next to the shirt she dumped off into the corner, her panties followed straight after. once again, minjeong was completely naked, and above you, straddling your hips with that grin she had that left you in a hot mess “i think you should use that mouth of yours” she spoke low, shuffling over to hover above your face with both of her thighs placed comfortably on each side of your head. her glistening pussy was right in your field of view, and frankly, you couldn’t fathom what was about to happen next. to answer her question, you simply hummed, caressing her thighs in languid strokes.
“what if i suck at this though?” there was a hint of insecurity in your tone, but minjeong was confidently sure that you were able to please her well enough. she trusted her intuition, and hoped you wouldn’t disappoint.
“i doubt. all you have to do is suck, lick, kiss and maybe even use your fingers if you’re feeling frisky. you’ll be fine” you weren’t fine. that sudden boost of confidence didn’t last long enough for you to do something as wild as this. yet you found yourself instinctively darting your tongue out with a subtle nod, inviting minjeong to take a seat on your face “eager aren’t you… just keep your tongue out like that for me doc”
time seemed to slow down once her soaked pussy made contact with your tongue, and my god did she taste divine. at this point you could feel your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and your mind filled with nothing but a need to pleasure the lonesome woman that sat right on top of your mouth, gyrating her hips to her desired speed.
it started off as minjeong simply using your mouth to get herself off, but you couldn’t bear not to do something to help her out. as she said a few minutes ago, you planted your lips on her heat, a few kitten licks around minjeong’s aching pussy, feeling around her dripping folds as you hummed in satisfaction as a response to her flavour “ah… that feels— fuck, that feels good. keep going, you’re doing amazing” continuing to lap around her folds, tasting the sweet and warm essence that dripped from her hole all the way down to your chin as you greedily chased it with your tongue, minjeong squirmed her body around in ecstasy; a tight grip on the headboard turned her knuckles white from the overwhelming force. a means to ground herself.
“s-shit… focus more on my clit, please” you obliged almost immediately, shifting focus on where she needed it the most. sliding your tongue from her lips all the way up to her overly sensitive clit, you gave her a quick suck, just as she had mentioned, earning a light moan that sent shivers down your spine. the more you brushed over with your tongue, the more minjeong whined and whimpered.
each moan that rolled from her lips encouraged you to increase the delicious friction your mouth could only provide “mhm, that’s it doc… keep sucking my clit like that…”
crude as it was, and how much those words affected you; after all, your eyes rolled as she moaned those words out with a breathy sigh, you began to lap around with hunger as if you had an appetite that couldn’t be satiated.
words muffled against the heat of her mound, you spoke after a long while of staying silent - since your focus was directed towards satisfying her needs “mmm, like this?”
you couldn’t see her nodding her head, but with the way she let out those decadent moans of hers, it was clear that she was enjoying the moment.
for some reason you decided this alone wasn’t enough for the grieving woman, so with your new found knowledge in terms of sex, your hand made way towards her slit, massaging her folds with your middle and index finger.
again with the frantic nodding. minjeong felt like she was enveloped in total bliss, forgetting about the people in the past and focusing on your fingers pushing inside her tight pussy “hhng… fuck. your fingers are so- they’re so long”
minjeong’s fleshy walls clenched around your fingers, practically trapping you there. it was hard to explore around with how tight she was, but eventually, as you started to feel around with your two fingers, stretching minjeong’s tight and pretty pussy, your ability to comfortably push in and out of her hole became much more easier.
with your lips closing around her clit, fingers pumping in and out with fervour; so fast, and rough that it was hard to believe that you were a virgin with absolutely no experience with sex whatsoever, made minjeong shamelessly moan your name for the first time ever.
“my god… oh my god, y/n. you’re so fucking good at this” a familiar tightness formed in the pit of minjeong’s stomach; a coil that was about to break from the sheer amount of pleasure jolting through her entire body. out of nowhere, you slammed the palm of your hand against her skin, fingers hitting her g-spot in rhythmic thrusts.
“is this spot good? does it hurt?” you were a tad worried about minjeong. the poor woman couldn’t usher out a sentence with how much she was feeling. the stimulation on her hardened clit, your fingers hitting every single spot that she couldn’t do herself, your muffled groans and sighs as your mouth paid special attention to her sensitive parts. it made her lose her mind.
to answer your question, minjeong whined out an almost inaudible “no”. her legs squeezed around your head as a way to tell you not to stop, to keep up what you were doing until she was satisfied. but with her legs trapping you between her thighs, you couldn’t properly breathe. did that stop her? no it didn’t. and did it stop you? absolutely not. you were determined to bring her to her edge; sucking, licking, kissing against her overly sensitive clit while your weary fingers kept on pounding relentlessly inside of her.
after what felt like an eternity, minjeong fell silent for a good couple of seconds before chanting your name out like a mantra “y/n… oh my fucking god, y/n- i’m.. i’m gonna cum. a-ah… fuck, i’m gonna cum-“ her hands that gripped onto the headboard immediately tangled themselves in your hair, pushing your head upwards and into her pussy as she convulsed on top of you. as she came, her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head and you swore you could’ve heard your jaw popping out of place from the pressure.
“haa… mmm… y/n~” she whined, languidly rocking her hips against your fingers and tongue as she rode out her intense high.
a few moments of silence went by. minjeong eventually stopped in her tracks and dropped onto your mattress right next to your body “m-minjeong?” you tapped her face. she wasn’t responding “hey, minjeong?” you checked her pulse, her breathing and everything until you came to the conclusion that she had passed out from both exhaustion and from her orgasm.
you snapped out of your haze, wiped her juices of your face and chin after you had tasted it once again. what an unforgettable flavour.
fatigue now coursing through your own body, you had to get up and do something urgent first before your tired body eventually stopped moving. rustling around in your bedside drawer, you pull out a packaged syringe and an empty tube “don’t wake up. please…” with one hand wrapped around minjeong’s upper arm, slightly cutting off her blood circulation, her veins began to protrude, allowing you to safely insert the needle into one of the more prominent looking veins.
you could’ve honestly asked her about taking a sample of her blood when she was conscious, but you figured out that she might have grown suspicious as to why.
lets just say that your personal and private work wasn’t ethical. and for that reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell minjeong what you were going to plan to do with that sample of her blood if she ever asked.
morning came by quickly.
unfortunately the sun didn’t shine through your windows as your room was basically a metal box composed with a bed, a desk, a chair and a closet. every morning here in the facility was so bland and boring. highly depressing too. imagine waking up almost every day here. you’re surprised none of the scientists were sick of it.
but anyway. you knew it was early morning since your alarm clock woke you up from a strange dream, and how you heard the chatter of many scientists walk past your room's door.
you turn your head to the side, expecting minjeong to be gone, but she was still there, chest rising up and down as she breathed softly in your bed.
taking the time to freshen up from the activities the two of you shared a hours ago; you take a quick shower, brushed your teeth and hair, threw on a clean pair of clothes and a newly ironed lab coat to get ready for another excruciatingly boring day in the laboratory. but before you decided to wake minjeong up, you needed to file that incident report.
incident report form
date of report: 17/01/30xx
full name: kwon y/n
person(s) involved: 2
location: section 02 to 03 of the science department.
time: 12:36am
describe the incident: new mutant species, possibly class A, broke into facility 03 and chased me until i reached laboratory 0201 in section 02. used the untested plasma rifle to exterminate said mutant.
mutant species seems to be a combination of multiple human mutants, and has multiple vital points in its body. runs at high speeds, can break through metal with ease, can squeeze into smaller cracks and holes without damaging its body.
unfortunately the cctv cameras briefly caught the mutant on tape.
was anyone injured?: yes.
if yes, describe the injuries: soldier patrolling around section 03 had broken limbs. was consumed by the mutant shortly after. no remains left at the scene.
were there any witnesses to the incident?: no
minjeong stirred awake shortly after you sent in the report. there was a stinging sensation in her left arm, but she paid no mind to it. maybe it was because of how intense the night was that her body was aching everywhere.
“good morning” you yawn, swivelling around the seat as you face minjeong. you chuckle at her appearance; her hair messy, tired eyes and naked with the blanket draped around her small shoulders “you woke up just in time. i finished writing the incident report and the overseers emailed me immediately after”
half asleep, minjeong hummed and tucked herself underneath the blanket “mmm… what did they say?” she spoke in a gravelly manner, which was to be expected since she had just woken up.
“they said i can take the day off. only thing is, i can’t leave you here. so you’re coming with me” your words didn’t register in minjeong’s sleepy mind. she only responded with another hum before rolling over onto her tummy, closing her eyes “no seriously. you can’t be left alone here. i don’t want anyone finding you outside of your pod”
“mmfh… okay~”
it took a while for minjeong to fully wake up and get dressed, but after she was done tying her shoe laces, you briefly explained how you were going to leave the facility undetected “the scientists don’t usually leave the labs until it’s lunch time, so we’ll use that to our advantage” most of your colleagues stayed put in their stations, slaving away until they were tired and needed a well deserved break whenever they needed one, unless one of the overseers tells them to get back to their research “usually i hitch a ride whenever i enter the city. a bunch of locals i’ve made acquaintances with take me to where i need to go if i don’t have a car. so really, the only issue we have is that i need to get you out of here without people getting suspicious”
“or maybe i could pose as a scientist. or maybe a soldier that’s guiding you towards the city for research purposes” minjeong suggested. to be honest, that was a good idea. the military inside the facility didn’t really care all too much about scientists anyway. and also you were trusted amongst your peers and the rest of the military. that trust enabled you to roam feeling within and outside the building. in the case you needed an assistant scientist with you, they would need an ID.
“actually yeah. that’ll work. means we don’t need to sneak around the place then” you toss minjeong a lab coat and a spare fake id you had rotting away in your dusty drawer just in case a situation like this would occur.
and with that, you two were set to go.
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a/n: if you spot any mistakes pls tell me 😭 i did read through the fic this time so i’m hoping there’s none… and if there is i’m going to kms </3
TAGLIST (open):
@jade-jini @yeetaberry127 @keervah @aespasoooool @1luvkarina @bitchiswild @masterfvck @myouicieloz @sseulforgii @rinapomu @saysirhc @yuyuy90
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seresinhangmanjake · 3 days
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The One I Want: Part 16
Jake Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Warnings: a little smut
Words: 1500
The One I Want Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
“I can’t tell you much,” Jake had told you, but you knew that. “We’re not a hundred percent in the clear, but it’s looking like four weeks, maybe five.”
“Beats fifteen,” you’d said, hearing a rewarding chuckle in return. 
You were thankful no one could witness the mess you were at that moment, your face-splitting grin heavily contrasting the puffiness of your eyes from tears. But that was just the beginning of weeks of inner turmoil. 
For forty-eight days, your stomach has swirled a storm that’s consistently had you on the edge of nausea, whether from anxiety regarding his safety or butterflies at the thought of Jake returning. You miss him, more than you thought yourself willing to, and regardless of what he told you, nothing guarantees he will walk through the door of your apartment. And if he doesn���t, you know exactly what will happen to you. You’ll crumble into unsalvageable pieces, and no one—not Millie, not Rooster, not anyone who has been kind to you over the last months—will be able to put you back together. 
And then what? Your only choice will be to leave. Start anew. Twelfth new place. Except this time, you’ll be more numb, less human, less operable on a daily basis. It’ll be like waking from a dream to a gray environment. You fear nature will lose its color, and you will lose your light once again.
It’s another week before your phone rings with a name other than Millie’s plastered across the screen. Unknown Number, but the first three digits are recognizable, matching those of the number Jake has been using to call you with. What you hear on the other end of the line, however, is not Jake, but instead, a gruff voice asking you to confirm your identity. 
“Yes,” you answer. “That’s me.”
The man clears his throat. “You are the emergency contact for Lieutenant Jake Seresin. We’d like you to come down to our medical facility as soon as possible,” he says before providing you directions.
You drop your phone, and then you’re running. Running to his truck, running from his truck to base, running through halls until you find someone willing to lead you to him. You’re so terrified, your arms jittery, legs barely functioning from the panic of Jake’s pending fate, so overwhelmed by nerves that when you finally do see him, it pisses you off. 
That man with the voice that imbued you with dread is on your shit list for life. Maybe next time, he could lead an emergency contact call with He’s fine or Don’t worry, because his implication was severe enough that you feared lost limbs or damaged brain functioning. But there Jake is, not in a coma or with some life-threatening injury, but sitting on the edge of a bed in a room with his back to you as a nurse seals a strip of medical tape across a small patch of shaved hair on the side of his head.  
When she’s done with her work, she smiles at Jake and nods at something he says before walking out of the room. She jumps at the unexpected figure lingering just outside the door, and then realization dawns. 
“Oh, you must be the girlfriend,” she says. “You’re welcome to go on in.”
So you do, cautiously easing into the room, hoping that when he turns, his face won’t be covered in slashes and bruises—a sight you’re not sure you can handle with strength and maturity. You’d love him all the same, but to see him in such pain would take you to your knees. But again, he’s fine. Beautiful as ever. Not a mark on him that you can see save for the one on the mend. 
Jake’s face brightens at the sight of you; he practically glows, and you’re shocked to discover yourself not running into his arms. You’re frozen for a moment as you take him in. It’s a quick moment—a brief second to recover—but then you’re stepping to him, your eyes watering, your bottom lip quivering, your fingers reaching up to brush over the stark white tape. You’re careful with your feathery touch, relieved to see that his injury is not so sensitive as to make him wince.
Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. His eyes do not break from your face. He’s patient as you scan him once more for visible injuries, verifying for your own sake.
“It’s just the one,” he tells you, his voice soft and only a few notes above a whisper. Your eyes snap to his. He lifts his hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Come here, beautiful.”
You melt when his lips gently touch yours, but the kiss doesn’t last long as innocent. There’s bites and sucking and giving and taking, and it’s perfect in its semi-sloppy neediness. Voices passing by the door is what breaks the two of you apart. Jake lightly groans before he chuckles and rests his forehead against yours. 
“I missed you,” he says. He places another quick peck on your lips. “I want to take you home.”
“Then take me home.”
“J-Jake!”
You feel his mouth curve against your core before he licks another stripe right through you, tongue like a heated blade slicing you in two halves, spreading you open and baring you inside and out. You’re completely gone—lost in the sole way you’re willing to be lost—as Jake tethers you to this earth. He’s the only one you trust to ground you while simultaneously letting your head float amongst the clouds. 
His arms curl around the thickness of your thighs, locking onto you and keeping your hips steady atop the mattress as he devours and tastes and sucks and licks some more.  
“Come on, beautiful,” he mumbles into your folds, just loud enough for you to hear through the rush of blood in your ears. “Let me have it.”
As if you could hold it back. 
Your whole body jerks and writhes as you sink into pleasure, back arching, head digging into the pillow. Jake reaches a hand up to intertwine your fingers and you squeeze them tightly while he continues to kiss folds and brush his nose against the overstimulated bud.
“There we go,” he coos until your body calms.
Jake crawls onto the bed, lips and tongue traveling up the soft flesh of your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, into the dip in your throat before he kisses you, demanding you taste everything you just gave him. 
Jake introduced you to your taste during those weeks before his deployment. His head lived between your legs. He showed you how to perch perfectly on his face, encouraging you through your concerns of suffocating him. He begged you to relax when he backed you up against the wall, slipped your pants off, knelt, and tossed your leg over his shoulder as he dove in. And after each success of making you crumble to pieces, he sealed his lips to yours and pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
You know your taste as well as you know his, and on the occasions he spills down your throat before he returns the favor, you get the satisfaction of the combination on your tongue—a mixture more intoxicating than an alcoholic binge. 
“I’m never going to want anything like I want you,” he says after he slips inside of you, the intensity of the love in his eyes penetrating your soul.
“Then it's good that I’m yours,” you whisper back.
Thrusts that were paced and steady and gentle falter. With your words comes a sharp rut of his hips—unexpected to you both—that hits hard, deep. Jake chokes on the air in his lungs, his eyes snapping shut as you cry out. 
“Fuck” hisses through the grit of his teeth. Then he finds his pace again. 
His head falls to your neck. Nibbles make you gasp, and the image of examining claiming bruises in the mirror first thing come morning causes your walls to clench around the veiny column moving in and out of you. Your fingers fist into his hair. Nails dig into the toned muscle of his ass. 
“I do love you, Jake,” you say. 
He stops completely, but you don’t question it. The fingers in his hair loosen and you lightly scrape your nails along his scalp, down to the base of his neck, then back up into blond locks. Turning your head, you stamp a tender kiss onto his temple. 
Jake doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t look at you. His thick breaths burn the delicate skin just under your ear. When he begins to move, he’s slow, taking his time before he picks up, working to nudge that special spot inside of you that tightens a white-hot coil in your belly. 
“I love you so much, beautiful,” he whispers.
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boowritess · 12 hours
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i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.
i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.
but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.
happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.
you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.
plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.
"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.
"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.
your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"
and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...
but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.
it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.
you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.
yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.
sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.
or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.
gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.
but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.
when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.
oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.
christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...
and it's there where you've kinda realized.
you and john do have kids.
just in the form of grown men.
which both you and john don't seem to mind.
you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.
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a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx
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I am very concerned about some of the messaging going around that we shouldn’t vote for Kamala because she supposedly doesn’t care about Palestine. This messaging is very dangerous and I ask anyone who comes across this to please think twice before you allow this messaging to stop you from voting. I trust Kamala Harris when she says she believes Palestinians have a right to self determination. I trust her when she says she wants a ceasefire. The Israeli government is a force of evil, but the Israeli people are not. The Israeli people deserve to be safe from Hamas just as the Palestinians deserve to be safe from the Netanyahu. Kamala Harris is not Joe Biden. She is her own person and she is handling the issue in a way that protects both people. Loss of life is much greater for Palestinians, but we can’t fall prey to anti semitism either. The man Kamala loves is a Jewish man.
That being said, even if you are not convinced. Even if you do not trust her, what is the alternative? Boycotting your right to vote or voting third party increases the odds of a Trump presidency. It is not possible for Jill Stein to win. If you do not trust Kamala, that is fine. But realize there is no question about how Trump will handle the war. He has no compassion for anyone, including Palestinians. It may make you feel less guilty to vote third party or to not vote at all, but it won’t help anyone. It will only subject both the Palestinians and the citizens of America to disarray and death.
I respect that not every liberal will relate to Kamala and trust her as I do, but it is very clear that however much you might doubt her, Trump is the only possible alternative. And it’s not a viable alternative. I’m not sure our country or Palestine can survive another Trump presidency.
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Mission Control 13
Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Captain Hydra
Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You stand shivering in a towel. The door is open to the damp chill, a grey sky peeking in. He appears again, marching through with a worn canvas knapsack. He drops it on the rug and goes back to shut the door. You hear the gears whirring as it locks on its own. 
He’s all in black again. At least his clothes are clean. The turtleneck has a hole in the elbow and the cargo pants are missing a flap along one pocket, but they don’t smell like iron and mud. His blond hair is still sleek with moisture and droops down his forehead. 
You wrap your arms around yourself and watch him. He lifts the bag over the couch and drops it on the cushions. He points and looks at you. You nod and go where he wants. 
You tuck in the top of the towel. You pull back the zipper. A bundle of clothing pushes the bag wide as it bulges through. You pull out a plaid flannel shirt. It’s thick. You peek up at him and hold it up. He jams his finger towards you. 
“These are for me?” You ask. He lowers his arms and tilts his head. “Thank you.” You look down and lay out the flannel on the next cushion.  
You pull out two pairs of rolled jeans, some tee shirts, and a pullover sweater. Each piece is plain and practical. None of it matches. You won’t complain. Only the last piece is less than utilitarian. 
You drag out the dress and it flows free. The yellow is speckled with green vines and white flowers. You grimace as you note the red splotch on the bodice and the way the trim on the neckline is separated along one side. 
He grunts. You wince and look him in the eye. You blink nervously and turn the dress around for him to see. He frowns and snatches it from you. He touches the bloody stain and exhales deeply. He balls it up. He stares at you again. 
You pick up a tee shirt and give it a sniff. It’s a bit dingy. You can manage. 
“Maybe I’ll do some laundry? You can show me where?” You suggest. 
His eyes narrow. 
“I’ll do yours too. I don’t mind. I’d like to have something to do,” you offer. You’re trying to fill the silence as much as you’re begging to distract yourself from the dread. “If that’s okay with you.” 
His eyes drift. He puts his chin down and examines the dress again. He rents it in two and stomps away. 
You pull the tee shirt on over the towel then slip into the jeans. You loose the towel and button up the flannel. It’s better. 
The door clatters open again. You go to hang the wet towel from the bar in the bathroom and as you return, he carries in a pile of white birch logs. He kicks the door shut and takes them to the fireplace. He lets them roll over the floor. He grabs one and splits it in half with his fingers. You gape. 
“Can I help?” You stay a few feet back as you watch his shoulders. “Are you hungry?” 
He clacks several pieces onto the embers and stokes the fire until it roars. He stacks the rest before he gets up. He faces you and stalks over. You shuffle back frightfully. He points to your stomach then makes a fist. 
“Not all of it makes me sick. I was asking you though.” 
His brows furrow and he snarls. He shakes his head. He’s frustrated but you don’t know why. 
You warily move back to the couch and fold up the leftover clothing. He strides into the kitchen as you place the knapsack and clothes aside. He comes back in with a large metal bucket with handles on the wide brim and a scrubbing board. You only ever saw those in museums. He drops it and it clanges as the board bounces to the other side. 
“Thank you,” you say to conceal your fear. You feel his temper mounting. You want to keep him calm as long as you can. “Will you sit down?” You ask gently. “I wish I could make you some tea. It’s the perfect weather for it.” 
He inclines his head and watches you. His cheek ticks and his eyes flick up as if trying to remember something. He moves towards you and you lurch but don’t back away. He brings his hands to the sides of your face. His thumbs stroke your cheeks and he holds you for just a second before he releases you. 
He brushes close and moves to the couch. He sits with a groan. He doesn’t show the pain but you saw the splotched bruises and the slice along his knee. 
“I’m going to boil some water,” you explain. “Is there a drying rack for me to hang the clothes?” 
He sniffs and stands.  
“You can point and I’ll find it,” you say. “I saw a closet near the kitchen?” 
He blinks and flicks his finger in that direction as he sits back down. You turn and flit towards the door you were too afraid to open. You look inside at the broom; that would have been useful before. 
You drag out a rusting folding rack and bring it to the front room. You put it in front of the fireplace. 
“Is that okay?” You turn to him. 
He waves his hand indifferently. 
You nod and go back to your task. It’s not as terrifying when you have little steps to follow. You find a pot in the cupboard and fill it with water. You put it on to boil then retreat into the bathroom. You gather up his clothes and add them to the heap of the others. 
You take the bar of laundry soap from the bottom of the tub and set it aside. As you wait for the water to boil, you find a cloth and wet it. You wipe the front of his body arm. Black and red mingle on the linen. 
You glance over at him. His eyes are closed. The fire crackles and its glow flickers over him. You put your head down and continue your work. There’s an eeriness to the sudden peace of the cabin. You only then notice how the storm has quieted too. 
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ssa-dado · 3 days
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6 - Synthesis
Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader
Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn
Summary: After an intense case, you and Hotch struggle with unresolved tensions from a previous argument. On the train back, Hotch overhears Peter comforting you about a recent tragedy, realizing he’s been blind to your pain. Later, Hotch unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, opening up and apologizing for his emotional distance, leading to a heartfelt moment of mutual vulnerability. That evening, you attend Peter’s welcome-back party, feeling lighter and reconnecting with the team. That's when Peter makes an unusual bet with you.
Warnings: death, grief, emotional abuse, domestic violence, family dysfunction.
Word Count: 7.6k
Dado's Corner: Phi posting two chapters in less than 12 hours? More likely than you think. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve shown for the series so far! Each of you holds a special place in my cold little heart. Please don’t hate me after this - it hurts me, too - but hey, there’s some interrogation room Aaron to sweeten things up. I’m particularly proud of this cute, lovely chapter. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the window. Not even a little bit. Embrace the pain.
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Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”
The observation room was dimly lit, casting long, uneven shadows over you and Peter as you stood behind the two-way mirror, your heartbeat seemed to echo in the quiet, barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent light. You watched Hotch on the other side, preparing to interrogate the suspect, he appeared calm as usual, wearing his mask of stoicism proudly on his face, but you could tell the tension was palpable.
The room beyond the glass was stark, the suspect sat at the metal table gleaming under the harsh light with a smug expression, arms casually draped over the back of his chair, utterly unbothered. Te view was borderline infuriating.
The hair on your arms stood up, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had settled over the case. You couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you were grasping at straws, the weight of the local police’s blunders pressing heavily on your chest. They had fumbled, and badly. Critical evidence had slipped through their fingers, lost or contaminated in the chaos. You didn’t even want to hear the whole story—you were too furious, your senses shutting down as the same detective who had once doubted your work stumbled through a pathetic apology. All you had now was Hotch. No physical proof, no solid evidence to tie this man to the crimes you knew he’d committed.
Your gaze flicked back to the suspect, his arrogance nauseating. He knew the game, knew the system, and worse, he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. There was a clock ticking in your mind, every second precious, the sense of urgency suffocating. If Hotch couldn’t break him - if he couldn’t find a way past the layers of lies and smug indifference - you’d lose him. You couldn’t afford that, not now.
Peter’s jaw clenched as he observed the scene, his frustration evident. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We warned them not to bring him in without something solid. Now we’re stuck trying to clean up their mess.”
You nodded, your mind still reeling from the argument with Hotch the night before, as if all of this mess wasn’t already enough for your nerves to handle. The tension between you two had lingered, unresolved and heavy, adding another layer to your frustration. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, making it even harder to focus. “Yeah, and now Hotch has to pull off a miracle,” you said, your voice tinged with both a tinge of annoyance and worry. “He’s got one shot to get this right.”
Peter turned his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes narrowing as Hotch sat across from the suspect. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. I’ve seen Hotch work multiple times, and somehow he even looks sharper, more intense.”
Inside the room, Hotch began his interrogation with a measured calm, his eyes locked on the suspect, who lounged back in his chair, exuding a quiet confidence. Hotch started with the basics, the routine questions meant to establish rapport, but the suspect was playing his own game, answering with a smug smile and evasive nonchalance.
Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms as he observed the suspect’s every move, every twitch. “You’ve been careful,” Hotch said, his voice steady but probing. “I’ll give you that. You’ve covered your tracks well. But you slipped up, everyone makes mistakes, especially when they think they’re untouchable.”
The suspect smirked, feigning boredom. “You’re wasting your breath, Agent Hotchner. You and I both know you have nothing on me - no evidence, no witnesses. You’re grasping at straws.”
Hotch’s gaze remained unflinching, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he leaned in just slightly, narrowing the space between the two of them. “You’re right, we don’t have physical evidence, but we do have you, and that’s enough. Because here’s the thing - you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve made this personal, and personal is messy.”
The suspect chuckled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if this were a game to him. “Oh, please. I’ve seen every tactic in the book, and I’ve got an answer for all of them. You can’t intimidate me, Hotchner. I know my rights. You’ve got nothing.”
Hotch’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flash of determination in his eyes. “You think this is about intimidation? You’re missing the point. This isn’t about fear, it’s about you and the mistakes you’ve made. You’ve left a trail, little hints of who you really are. You think you’ve hidden them, but they’re there, buried in the details.”
The suspect’s confident facade faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, scoffing. “You’re reaching. This isn’t some TV show where the bad guy breaks down in a dramatic confession. I’m not saying a damn thing without my lawyer.”
Hotch’s demeanor shifted, a cold, calculating edge creeping into his voice. “Your lawyer? You think your lawyer’s going to save you? They’ll do their job, make sure you’re comfortable, make sure you feel safe. But at the end of the day, they’re not in here with you, they’re not the ones facing the consequences of your actions - you are. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
From the other side of the glass, you watched Hotch methodically chip away at the suspect’s arrogance. Each line of questioning was a carefully placed strike, designed to weaken his resolve, but the suspect wasn’t giving in easily. He deflected, twisted Hotch’s words, and tried to turn the conversation back on him.
“You think you’re so righteous, don’t you?” the suspect sneered, leaning forward with a glint of disdain in his eyes. “Sitting there, acting like you’ve got the moral high ground. You don’t know me, Agent Hotchner. You don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve been through, the people I’ve dealt with - you think you’re better than me?”
Hotch didn’t flinch even if the last words reminded him of the argument he had with you down at the lobby. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, but I do know who you are. You’re the guy who blames everyone else when things go wrong, the guy who hides behind his intellect because he’s too scared to admit he’s just another coward trying to prove he’s not afraid. But guess what? That act doesn’t work on me.”
The suspect’s composure slipped, his anger flaring as Hotch hit a nerve. “You don’t get to judge me! You sit there like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as flawed as the rest of us. You have no right—”
Hotch cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes, and I own them. But I’m not the one hiding behind excuses, you are. You’re the one who thinks he can play God, decide who deserves to live or die based on your twisted sense of justice. But here’s the thing: you’re not in control, not anymore.”
From the observation room, you felt your chest tighten. Hotch was relentless, pushing the suspect further than you’d ever seen him push anyone before. It was as if he’d tapped into something raw and unforgiving, something that drove him to keep going, to tear down every last defense the suspect had.
Peter glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen him go this hard. It’s like he’s on a mission.”
You nodded, the tension from last night’s argument still simmering inside you. You knew why Hotch was pushing himself like this: because of you, because of the unresolved words between you, and because he needed to prove something, maybe even to himself. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”
Inside the room, the suspect’s attitude was crumbling. Hotch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with a quiet menace. “You think you’re untouchable, that you’ve covered all your bases. But I’ve spent years in courtrooms taking down men just like you, men who thought they were too smart to get caught. I know every trick, every lie, every pathetic attempt to weasel your way out of the truth.”
The suspect’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to maintain control. But Hotch was unrelenting, his gaze piercing through every layer of the man’s defenses. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes. You’re terrified that the truth is going to come out, that all your carefully crafted lies are going to fall apart right in front of you - so, here’s your last chance. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you did it.”
There was a beat of silence, a heavy pause as the suspect’s composure finally shattered. His shoulders slumped, his defiance giving way to resignation. He looked up at Hotch, defeated and angry, his voice breaking as he finally confessed, each word a bitter surrender. “Fine. Fine, you want the truth? I did it. I killed them. But you have no idea why. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless.”
“No you’re right, I don’t.” Hotch sat back, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, though his expression remained guarded: he had what he needed. The confession was out, raw and unfiltered, pulled from the depths of the suspect’s desperation.
Peter let out a low whistle, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. “That was... intense. I’ve never seen Hotch like that, he’s kind of intimidating.”
You nodded in agreement, your gaze still fixed on Hotch as he calmly gathered his notes, preparing to leave the room. You could see the toll it had taken on him, the emotional weight he carried even as he walked out victorious, and as much as you wanted to celebrate the success, the confrontation from the night before still lingered, leaving you with the unsettling realization that this fight wasn’t just with the suspect - it was within Hotch himself.
When Hotch stepped out of the interrogation room, the tension in his posture seemed to ease, but only slightly. His face was set in its usual mask of calm control, yet there was a heaviness in his eyes, a flicker of something raw that he couldn’t quite hide. Peter clapped him on the back, a mix of admiration and relief in his expression. “Hell of a job, Hotch. You tore him apart. I’ve seen you work, but that was something else entirely.”
Hotch gave a tight nod, his jaw still clenched, but his gaze was already shifting past Peter, landing on you. His eyes were searching, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction, seeking some unspoken acknowledgment from you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. “It had to be done.”
You stood there with your arms crossed, leaning against the wall, trying to maintain a composed exterior, but inside, you were anything but calm. Watching Hotch in that room, ruthlessly tearing down the suspect’s defenses, stirred something deep within you. It was impressive, yes, but also unsettling. You had never seen him so relentless, so driven - and you knew exactly what was fueling his determination.
As Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, there was a silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the emotional battlefield you both were navigating. The words from your argument the night before still echoed in your mind, sharp and unresolved, like an open wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. The case had forced you both to set your personal issues aside, but now, in the aftermath, they were still there, hovering between you like a shadow neither of you could ignore.
Peter glanced between the two of you, sensing the charged atmosphere but choosing not to comment. He knew better than to pry, but even he could tell that whatever was going on between you and Hotch went deeper than the usual tension of a difficult case. “We got what we needed,” Peter said, trying to break the silence. “That’s what matters. Now we can finally put this bastard away.”
Hotch nodded, but his eyes never left yours, and in that moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a silent standoff where neither of you knew how to take the next step. You wanted to say something, anything that would bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check.
The triumph of the confession felt hollow against the weight of what was still left unsaid. You and Hotch had always been able to read each other, but now, standing on opposite sides of this unspoken rift, it was as if the connection you’d relied on had fractured. There was so much you wanted to ask him: why he’d pushed so hard, why he seemed so desperate to prove something today, and why he couldn’t let his guard down, even for a moment. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing back the questions that burned at the back of your throat. “You did what you had to do,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered slightly. “Good work, Hotch.”
Hotch’s gaze softened for a brief second, a flicker of regret or maybe gratitude crossing his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice lower, more personal than before. “We all did.”Peter’s presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone, but it didn’t ease the tension that thrummed between you and Hotch. As Hotch turned to leave, the weight of your argument still hung heavy, unresolved, and painful. You watched him go, the distance between you feeling wider than ever, despite being just a few feet apart.
And as you stood there, with Peter by your side and the echo of Hotch’s footsteps fading down the corridor, you realized that the hardest part of this case wasn’t just about catching a killer, it was about facing the fractures in your own relationships, the ones that no amount of profiling or interrogation could ever fix.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was a dull, constant noise that filled the otherwise quiet cabin. You sat alone, your head down and your pen moving steadily across the paper as you filled out your case report. It was a task you’d thrown yourself into, your way of avoiding the one thing you weren’t ready to confront: Hotch.
Hotch sat a few rows behind you, his back to you, mirroring your actions as he worked on his own report with a similar intensity. It was almost poetic how the two of you were so much alike: both of you throwing yourselves into your work to avoid the harder truths, and neither willing to make the first move toward reconciliation.
As you focused on your writing, you heard footsteps approach. You didn��t need to look up to know it was Peter; you’d recognized the casual confidence in his stride from a mile away. He slid into the seat beside you without asking, his presence a familiar and oddly comforting interruption.
Peter glanced at your half-filled report, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You never could sit still, could you?” he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of fondness. “Always working, always thinking.”
You tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just trying to get this done before we get back,” you said, your tone evasive. You knew why he’d come over, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the conversation you’d been avoiding since you’d seen him again.
Peter watched you for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious. He took a deep breath, glancing at the report before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since I got back, but I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in the middle of the case.”
You stiffened, knowing exactly what he was going to say but hoping he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your dad’s funeral,” Peter said, his voice heavy with regret. “I wanted to be, but I was stuck overseas. I hate that I wasn’t there.”
You clenched your jaw, staring down at the paper in front of you, your pen hovering uselessly above the page. The memories of that day flooded backstanding at the grave, the heavy weight of loss pressing down on your chest, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly alone. You’d been surrounded by people, but none of them had truly understood, none of them had been him.
“It’s fine, Pete,” you said, though your voice was shaky. “You were doing your job. Besides, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”
Peter shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s not okay. You were always there for me, even when we were just kids trying to figure out what the hell we were doing with our lives. And I couldn’t even show up when you needed me the most.”
Peter studied you, his eyes searching yours. He could see the cracks you were trying so desperately to hide, the way you were holding yourself together with sheer willpower. “I should have been there,” he insisted gently. “I know how much you went through with him… I remember everything you told me about him.”
A knot formed in your throat as you thought back to your childhood, your father’s relentless work ethic, his unyielding drive for perfection. He had been your hero in so many ways, but he’d also been your downfall. You’d inherited his toxic trait of overworking yourself, the constant need to be better, to be more. It was how you’d coped with the chaos at home, the screaming matches between your parents that had been your daily soundtrack. Your mother, exasperated and exhausted, would often switch languages mid-argument to keep you in the dark, to protect you - or maybe just to exclude you - from the mess they had created.
“I was just a kid, you know?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “All I wanted was to understand why they were always fighting. I started learning every language my mom switched to, Italian, Spanish, anything that would give me a clue, but instead of finding answers, I just… found more reasons to stay away.”
Peter’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he listened. “You drowned yourself in books, in knowledge, just to escape,” he said, his voice low. “I remember you telling me that once, how you’d sit in those lecture halls at the university, absorbing everything because it was better than being home.”
Your childhood had been filled their voices rising in heated exchanges that always seemed to end in silence, your father retreating to his study to bury himself in more work, and your mother seeking solace in her books. To escape the turbulence at home, you’d thrown yourself into your studies with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You’d devoured literature, philosophy, psychology, anything that could distract you from the reality of your parents’ failing marriage, to gain a semblance of control in a world that often felt chaotic and out of reach.
You had become fluent in the languages they used to hide their pain from you, and in doing so, you became fluent in the art of distancing yourself from your own emotions. The habit of overworking, of pouring yourself into every task with unrelenting focus, was something you had learned from your father, a toxic legacy that you couldn’t quite shake, even now. It had been the source of countless arguments with your mother, who had begged you not to follow in his footsteps, to find balance, to live a life that wasn’t dictated by the demands of work. But it was easier said than done, and as the years went on, you found yourself mirroring his habits more than you cared to admit.
You nodded, swallowing hard against the emotion that threatened to choke you. “I kept pushing myself, kept chasing after something I couldn’t even name. My dad… he always told me that hard work was the only thing that mattered, he never slowed down, never stopped, and neither did I. Even when their marriage fell apart… even when he got sick. I just… I couldn’t stop.”
You hesitated, your eyes welling up with tears that you refused to let fall. “I didn’t even cry at his funeral, I just stood there, feeling nothing. And I haven’t been to visit his grave since.”
Peter gently reached out, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, tightly hugging you. “It’s okay not to be okay, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own. The least I can do is be the shoulder you can lean on.” Peter squeezed your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with compassion. “Your dad was tough, but he loved you, Y/N. And you don’t have to prove anything to him, not anymore. You’re allowed to grieve, to feel lost, to not have all the answers.”
You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”
Hotch sat just behind you, his back facing yours, he had intended to keep to himself, to give you the space you needed, but the quiet murmurs of your conversation had carried over. He couldn’t help but overhear Peter’s words, and as he listened, a wave of guilt and realization washed over him.
Hotch had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to see through the masks they wore, but he hadn’t seen through yours. He hadn’t seen the pain you’d been hiding, the grief that had been eating away at you just beneath a slim surface. And suddenly, your words from the night before came crashing back: how he didn’t know you, how he’d never bothered to look beyond the professional facade you’d built.
His own mind flickered back to his childhood, the memories of his father’s anger, the violence that lurked behind every door. Hotch had spent years burying and hiding those scars, never letting anyone see how deeply they ran. He had kept it all locked away, just as you had, believing that the only way to survive was to keep moving, to never let the pain catch up.
For the first time, Hotch truly understood why you had lashed out at him. You had seen in him the very thing you feared in yourself: the relentless drive to work, to control, to avoid facing the hurt that lingered beneath. He realized now that you were so much more alike than he had ever imagined, both of you haunted by the ghosts of your pasts, both trying to outrun the pain that always seemed to catch up.
As Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery, he felt a deep sense of remorse. He wished he had known, wished he had been able to offer you the support you so clearly needed. But all he could do now was hope that you would one day trust him enough to let him in, to share the burdens you had been carrying alone for far too long.
Peter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Hotch from his thoughts. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you, too.”
You nodded, wiping away the tears that had finally escaped. “Thanks, Pete. It’s just… it’s hard.”
“I know,” Peter said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Hotch listened to the quiet exchange, the raw honesty between you and Peter striking a chord deep within him. He knew now that he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that the walls he had built were enough to protect him or you. As the train sped toward Quantico, Hotch made a silent promise to himself: he would do better, he would be better. For you, and for himself.
Because in the end, you both deserved more than just the comfort of solitude. You deserved to be understood, to be seen, and to finally let go of the burdens you had carried for far too long.
Peter on the other hand had always been the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even when you tried to keep the pages closed. And after this emotional confrontation he knew he didn’t have to push further. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you were holding yourself together by the thinnest thread. So, he did what he always did best, he tried to lift your spirits, if only for a moment.
He leaned back in his seat, studying your expression with a knowing smile. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to unload everything on me right now. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. You don’t owe anyone your pain.” His tone was light, but there was a deep, unspoken understanding beneath it. He knew you were struggling, and he wanted you to know that it was okay to take your time.
You gave him a small, tired smile, grateful for his patience. “I know, Pete. It’s just... hard to talk about. I’ve been so focused on work, it’s easier that way. It’s all I know.”
Peter nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “I get it. But maybe it’s time to leave work behind, just for a little while. You don’t have to think about everything right now. Start small. Maybe try coming out of your room every once in a while?” He said it with a teasing grin, nudging your shoulder playfully, hoping to coax even the smallest laugh out of you.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately. I guess it’s easier to just shut myself away.”
Peter’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, lucky for you, your presence is strictly required at my welcome-back party tonight. The team’s putting it together, and you have no excuses not to come. I already told them you’d be there.”
You groaned, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Seriously? Peter, I don’t know if I’m up for-”
He cut you off, holding up a hand. “Ah-ah, no excuses. We’ll be back by early afternoon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest, take a shower, and then you’re going to show up and have a good time, even if I have to drag you there myself.”
You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. There was a warmth in his insistence, a reminder that you weren’t alone and that there was still joy to be found, even in the smallest of moments. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there. But only because you’re the most obnoxiously persistent person I know.”
Peter laughed, giving you a mock bow from his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Y/N, it’ll be good to see you outside of the office for once. We all miss you, and I promise, you’ll be glad you came.”
You nodded, feeling a small flicker of anticipation amidst the exhaustion. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t work, something that didn’t involve endless reports or painful memories. It wasn’t a solution to all your problems, but it was a start—a chance to reconnect with the people who mattered, to take a breath and remember that there was more to life than the shadows that had been chasing you.
As you looked at Peter, his familiar smile reminding you of all the good things you’d shared over the years, you felt a small surge of hope. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The train ride back to Quantico had felt endless, but the weight of the unresolved emotions made the journey back to your apartment even more suffocating. Peter’s words lingered, tugging at wounds you hadn’t dared to touch, and Hotch’s distant presence weighed heavily on your mind. The familiar solitude of your apartment was supposed to be comforting, but tonight, it felt more like a reminder of all the things you’d been running from: your grief, your past, and the fragile, fraying connection with the person who had come to mean so much to you.
You dropped your bag onto the floor, letting it fall with a thud that echoed through the empty space. You leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface against your palms as you tried to ground yourself. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if you’d locked them away, buried them beneath layers of duty and distraction.
But then there was a knock at your door, soft and tentative, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there. You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly as if to compose yourself, and moved to answer. You half-expected to find Peter, still worried about you after the train ride, or maybe even no one at all, just a mistake. But when you opened the door, it was Hotch who stood before you.
He looked different, more vulnerable and uncertain than you had ever seen him. His usually composed demeanor was frayed, and there was a rawness in his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and heavy burdens. He stood there awkwardly, clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him upright, his face etched with a mixture of hesitation and determination.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a fragile thread, one wrong move away from snapping. Hotch looked down, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words. He wasn’t in his usual pristine suit but rather dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, his attire as out of place as the uncertainty written across his face.
“Hotch?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, tinged with both surprise and concern. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just looked at you, as if he was struggling to find the right words, struggling to let down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. He stepped inside, and you quietly closed the door behind him, your heart pounding as you waited for him to speak. He took a few slow steps into the living room, glancing around as if trying to ground himself in the unfamiliar space.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice strained and brittle, every word heavy with unspoken pain. “I know this isn’t… I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I needed to talk to you. About… about what you said last night, and today on the train. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Peter.”
This wasn’t the composed, confident man you knew at work, this was Aaron, someone you never got to see, someone who was barely holding it together. “ You were right, Y/N. You were right about everything.”
You stood there, frozen, as his words hit you like a wave. You had never heard Hotch sound so vulnerable, so broken. He was always the strong one, the unshakable agent who never let his guard down, but tonight, he was just Aaron, and he was struggling.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep things separate,” he began, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could just focus on the work, I could ignore everything else—everything that hurt, everything that felt out of my control. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s not who I am, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”
Hotch’s hands shook as he tried to steady himself, his eyes brimming with emotions he had kept buried for so long. “My father... he was abusive. He was cruel in ways that I can’t even put into words. He’d tear me apart with his words, his fists, anything to remind me that I was never good enough. I grew up in a house that felt more like a battlefield than a home, where silence was never safe and every day was just another fight to survive.”
His voice cracked, and you could see the weight of those memories in his eyes: the fear, the shame, the endless need to be perfect because nothing less would ever be enough for a man who thrived on control. “I tried so hard to protect my mom, my brother, but I was just a kid. There were nights when I’d lie awake, praying he’d leave us alone, praying I’d be strong enough to make it stop. But it never did. And I swore that when I grew up, I’d never be like him. I’d never let anyone see that weakness.”
You listened, your own tears finally breaking free as his pain washed over you. You had never imagined Hotch’s past had been so brutal, so deeply scarred by violence and fear. He had always seemed so put together, so composed, but now, you could see just how much he had been hiding, how much he had been carrying all this time.
“I thought if I kept that part of myself locked away, I’d be able to move on. I thought… I thought if I became Hotch, the profiler, that it would erase all the things he said I’d never be. But it’s just made me more closed off, more afraid to let anyone in. And I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”
He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you could see the desperation there - the plea for understanding, for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N. I don’t know how to not be this… this guarded version of myself. But if I’m going to try, if I’m going to let anyone see me, I want it to be you. Because you were right when you said I don’t know you, but I want to. And you deserve to know me, too—the real me.”
The vulnerability in his voice shattered something inside you, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you and pulled him into a tight, desperate hug. Hotch tensed at first, unaccustomed to such unguarded intimacy, but then his arms wrapped around you, and you could feel him finally letting go. His head bowed against your shoulder, and his entire frame shook with the silent sobs he’d been holding back for too long.
You clung to him, your own tears mingling with his, and in that moment, it felt like the dam you’d both been holding back had finally broken. You were no longer the stoic agents who always had the answers, always kept it together. You were just two people, scarred and hurting, trying to find solace in the only way you knew how: by holding on to each other.
Hotch’s hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he held you closer, as if you were the lifeline he had been searching for. He whispered apologies between his tears, his voice cracking with the weight of his regrets. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you.”
You shook your head, burying your face into his neck, your tears soaking through his t-shirt as you let out all the grief you’d kept buried: the loss of your father, the unresolved pain of your parents’ broken marriage, the way you had thrown yourself into work to keep from falling apart. You had been running for so long, hiding behind your accomplishments, just like him.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Aaron,” you whispered through your tears, the use of his first name slipping out naturally in this moment of raw honesty. “I had no idea. I was so angry, and I—”
He shook his head, his voice soft but firm as he whispered back, “You don’t have to apologize. You were right… about all of it. I needed to hear it. I needed to face it.”
The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other’s pain and understanding, the weight of your shared burdens finally feeling just a little bit lighter. There were no perfect words, no easy fixes, but in that embrace, you found something neither of you had expected—comfort, solace, and the beginning of a new kind of trust.
“It’s okay,” you whispered through your tears, clutching him tighter. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
For the first time, it felt like you were truly seen, truly understood, and the relief of it was overwhelming. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to be strong or perfect or put together. You could just be, and he could just be, and that was enough.
Hotch pulled back slightly, your eyes finally met, both of you still teary but no longer hiding. There was a silent understanding there, a promise that from now on, things would be different. “No more walls. No more hiding.” He murmured, his voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination.
You nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you held each other in that quiet, tear-stained moment, you knew that you weren’t alone anymore. You had each other, and that was a start. It was messy, and it was painful, but it was real. And in that, you found hope - hope that maybe, together, you could begin to heal. You weren’t just partners in the professional sense anymore; you were something more—two people learning to let each other in, to lean on each other’s strength when your own wasn’t enough. And in that simple, fragile moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone, that your new friend would be right there at your side.
The evening had settled over the city, and the Irish pub next to your apartment block was buzzing with energy. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of lightness, excitement bubbling at the thought of spending time with Hotch, Peter, and the rest of your colleagues from the BAU. After everything that had happened, the weight of unresolved emotions had eased, if only slightly, and you found yourself looking forward to reconnecting with your team outside the pressures of the job.
Earlier that afternoon, you’d stopped by a bookstore, the small shop tucked between a row of cafes and boutique stores you often passed but rarely visited. As you browsed the shelves, your eyes fell on a book titled "Hegel for Dummies." It was a perfect, lighthearted gesture, a small symbol of your newfound friendship with Hotch, and a callback to the night you’d spent poring over Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs at the library. You thought that maybe, after his recent dive into architecture, he might take an interest in philosophy too, especially Hegel, one of your favorites. The book felt like a tiny olive branch, a way of letting him into your world a little more, just as he had let you into his the night before.
You imagined him reading it, piecing together Hegel’s ideas on thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and maybe learning something about you in the process. And who knew? Maybe one day, if you were lucky, he’d hand you one of his favorite books, offering you another glimpse into the parts of himself he rarely showed.
When you walked into the pub, the warm light and chatter were an immediate comfort. You spotted your team at a long wooden table near the back, and to your surprise, you saw Gideon sitting there, crutches leaned against the wall, his leg injury having kept him out of the latest case. Rossi was beside him, the two of them looking as inseparable as ever, trading stories and laughs over pints of beer. It was a sight that immediately lifted your spirits.
“Look who finally made it!” Rossi called out, waving you over. “Come on, we saved you a seat.”
You grinned, making your way through the crowd. “Rossi, Gideon, you two didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
Gideon leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you? Besides, someone has to make sure Peter doesn’t get too full of himself.”
Peter shot you a wink, raising his glass in greeting. “They’re just here to bask in my glory, Y/N. But don’t let them fool you, they’ve been talking about you all night.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you took a seat between Gideon and Peter. “I’m sure they have. So, what did I miss?”
Before anyone could answer, Hotch walked in, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he spotted you. You exchanged a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the night before, and of the steps you were both taking toward something new, something vulnerable.
“Hotch!” Rossi greeted, patting the empty seat beside him. “Come sit, we’re debating where Peter’s new desk should be. Since Y/N’s parked herself at his old one, we might need to reshuffle the whole bullpen.”
Hotch took his seat, glancing at you with a teasing smile. “I think she’s gotten too comfortable. I doubt she’s giving it up.”
Peter leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial whispering into your ear “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “See that woman behind Hotch’s shoulder? If she doesn’t come talk to him, you get to keep your desk.”
You eyed the woman briefly, noticing her casual yet elegant demeanor, but she seemed engrossed in her own conversation. Hotch was engaged in a discussion with Rossi, showing no sign of noticing her. You were confident this would be an easy win, especially given Hotch’s typically reserved nature. “Alright,” you said, turning back to Peter. “And what do you get if you win?”
Peter’s grin widened, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable. “A date. With you.”
The unexpected proposition caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but his expression remained light, teasing. You brushed it off with a laugh, pretending he was just messing with you. “Okay, you’re on.”
But no sooner had you accepted the bet than the woman, as if she had somehow overheard your conversation, moved toward Hotch with an expression of surprise. You watched in stunned silence as she approached, her voice soft and familiar. “Aaron? What were the odds?”
Your heart sank as Hotch’s face lit up, a rare and genuine smile crossing his features, his cheeks flushed slightly, and there was a familiarity between them that made your chest tighten. You felt Peter nudge you, his voice breaking through the shock. “Looks like you owe me a date.”
You barely registered his words, too fixated on the interaction unfolding in front of you. Hotch returned to the table with the woman by his side, her presence seeming to fill the room in a way that made you feel suddenly small and out of place. Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, introducing her with a casualness that belied the weight of the moment. “Everyone, this is Haley.”
You barely managed to hold your composure, the pieces of this unexpected puzzle falling into place as you processed Hotch’s flushed expression and the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This wasn’t just anyone, this was someone from his past, someone who clearly was very close and definitely had shared some sort of romantic history with him. The bitter thoughts stung more than you wanted to admit.
Before you could say anything, Gideon, ever the observant one, leaned over, catching sight of the corner of a book sticking out of your open purse. “Hegel for Dummies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in his voice as he picked it up to inspect.
You nodded, still too stunned to fully engage, your mind elsewhere. “Yeah. It’s… it’s just a little joke,” you managed, though the words felt hollow in the moment.
Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”
The words hung heavy in the air, and as you sat there, watching Hotch interact with Haley, you couldn’t help but feel the truth in them. Life was messy, a constant push and pull of opposing forces, and you were caught in the middle of it, trying to make sense of what it all meant.
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procyonloser · 2 days
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"And that's why Jesus was the coolest rock star to have ever lived." Adam said, sitting backwards on his chair, looking out over the crowd of kids who were only half paying attention. "How about I play you guys a little guitar, and we can sing about how much we love the Lord?"
A half hour later, and Adam was slamming the door to the youth group room and bidding it a very thankful farewell. He'd gone to college to study music, he'd spent his life playing the guitar, and the only fucking place that wanted to hire him was his childhood church. Fucking figured.
"Ugh," Adam groaned, tugging off his jacket, because they didn't want the kids seeing his less than family friendly tattoos.
"Adam!"
Adam startled, and turned, having to look down to see the pastor. Adam remembered him as the youth pastor when Adam was a kid, but now Lucifer ran the joint. He was bright eyed, happy go lucky, and Adam could admit this church had the best theatrics in the state. They really went all out for Christmas and Easter. Lucifer had lines under his eyes that creased deeper as he smiled, but he always put Adam on edge.
"Heeey....you." Adam got out awkwardly, pointing a finger at him. "How was the sermon? Get any fainters?"
"No, no," Lucifer laughed. "It was great though. My wife Lilith and I sang about the gospel, and my daughter Charlie passed out communion. It was a lot of fun. She's getting so big."
"Uh huh, super cute." Adam said, forcing himself to smile. Lilith was a bitch, and Charlie was a horse girl in the making; he couldn't stand being around any of them for long. He just wanted to go to a bar, get blasted, and fall asleep to the sound of Jeopardy and hopefully someone sucking his dick. God, he really needed to get a band together and get out of this place.
"Are you busy?" Lucifer asked, smile never changing. "I'd like to talk to you about the holiday season sermons, privately?"
Adam's smile faltered slightly. This was why Lucifer weirded him out. No matter what he said and did, no matter how much he showed off his perfect little family; whenever they were alone together, Lucifer practically eye fucked him to completion.
"Uh...sure..." Adam said, fingers tightening on the handle of his guitar case.
"Great!" Lucifer said, leading him down the hallway by putting a hand on Adam's hip. It linger far too long, and it wouldn't be the last time his touches strayed towards Adam.
Even if Lucifer was supposed to be a man of God, all Adam could see this place as was a church of sin.
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xetlynn · 17 hours
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Twilight Imagines- Benjamin
First Sight
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[Masterlist]
Requested by: @twilightlover2007
Summary: in where the Cullens are getting multiple covens together to help them convince the Volturi that Renesmee is not a danger Benjamin spots [Name] and is immediately enamored by her. Even with her two year old daughter. Also finding out they have similar abilities.
I sit in the living room with Bella and Edward as we watch Renesmee play with Athaliah. I cross my arms, holding myself. "How do you feel?" Edward asks me suddenly and I turn to him. "Read my mind." I roll my eyes, he scoffs out a laugh. "I'm asking so you can let it out."
He responds, I look back to the girls. "Yeah, we haven't talked much since you found out about her." Bella chimes into the conversation. I frown for a second.
"It's a weird situation, I don't really know how I feel." I tell them in all honesty. One second Renesmee was a newborn and seconds later she was months old and now she's physically 4 years old.
"I just wish we didn't have to deal with the Volturi. Once again." I hold my head in my hands. Last time we dealt with them was when I turned into a vampire, Athatliah was only 16 months old. They were worried that I would turn Athaliah.
We had to convince them I wouldn't go near her until I had control over my thirst and she wouldn't know anything about us until she was the age of turning or if anything I would fake my death and she'd never see us again. It's something I don't even want to consider. It's something I have 16 years until I have to truly think about. The Volturi believed us when Aro looked into Edward's mind along with mine. Also with the fact that my ability was strong, I would put up a fight. They didn't need any of their men dead.
"I wish that woman just talked to us before running straight to the Volturi. She's also going to get killed." I lift my head back up. Renesmee takes Athaliah over to us and they both smile. I pick up my daughter, placing her on my lap. Edward doing the same with his daughter.
"All right, lovely, it's time for a nap." I stand up. "I'll meet you guys outside." I tell my two best friends before walking upstairs. They have a crib that was originally for Renesmee in Edward's old room. I place Athaliah down. I could tell she was tired so when she started crying I knew it was only for a few minutes.
The first year of her life I cried almost every time she cried. I couldn't handle it. My mom was a huge help since Athaliah's dad left in the beginning of my pregnancy. His parents moved to a whole different state so he didn't have to be a father to our baby. I grieved the relationship in the beginning. I don't really care anymore.
Bella was the only friend I've had ever since giving birth. Other people judged right away. Not Bella. She sometimes would babysit for me if I had to work and no daycare. My mom would pay her as well. Edward then started to help with her. Then he bonded with Athaliah as well. They both became an aunt and uncle to my daughter. I am forever grateful for them.
When her cries stop I snap out of my thoughts. Quietly slipping out of the room. I go downstairs and join everyone outside. Bella and Edward showing the new vampires renesmee's gift. I look off into the distance to see Carlisle and Esme coming our way with three new people. They're from the Egyptian Coven, they drink human blood. I lock eyes with the younger looking man. His eyes were a dark red. They felt entrancing. I couldn't look away. That was until Rosalie comes up to me.
"Could you help me with something?" She asks in a quiet tone, I furrow my eyebrows but nod my head. Following after her. Feeling eyes watch me the entire time. The blonde leads me back into the house where Zafrina, Kachiri, and Senna were standing in our way. "These ladies are from the Amazon coven. They wanted to meet you." Rosalie speaks softly, I place a hand on my chest, confused on why they would want to speak to me. "They've heard of your ability." Emmett tells me, I let out a little 'oh' standing straighter.
"Zafrina likes meeting people similar to her. Having incredible gifts." Kachiri informs me. "What's your gift?" I tilt my head, intrigued. The quiet woman smiles slightly, staring at me. Focusing on something and then suddenly I'm not in the house anymore. I'm back outside. But not our outside. A different place. A place I've never seen before. It was gorgeous.
Then I'm back in the house and I stare at her with wide eyes. "That... was amazing." I tell her, utterly in shock. She grins back to me. "We'd like to see your ability." Kachiri says, I make a face, turning to Rosalie and Emmett who nod their heads for me to do it. "We'd uh, we would have to go outside." I lead the way outside, in front of the porch. The three from the Amazon Coven stand on the porch with Rosalie, Emmett was standing in the door frame.
I smile to them as the cloud above us gets darker than earlier. Their expressions are confused until I bring my arms in the air and it starts raining. It was sprinkling at first then thunder struck. I felt the others crowd around me. I then make it storm. Everyone getting soaked. And then suddenly it stops as I stop focusing on the sky. I take a deep breath. The others begin to clap.
"That's just a tiny bit of what she can do." Emmett roars out, I nod my head sheepishly. "How did you find that out?" One of the Denali sisters ask me. "When I turned, the pain caused a storm. The wind was strong. The weather was insane that night. Later on when I wasn't paying attention and every time I had a huge emotion, a storm began every time. It's a lot easier to control now." I smile as I then make it begin to snow. Renesmee runs up to me with a huge smile. I pick her up so she can play with the snowflakes.
"This is a powerful ability... The Volturi would have no chance against us." Garrett laughs beside Kate who has a tiny smirk on her face. "You could deflect my electricity and make it more powerful." She tells me, lifting one of her hands to show me the electricity coming out of it.
Then everyone begins to talk to one another about it. I place Renesmee down, she holds my hand though instead of running off. I listen outside of the others to see if Athaliah has woken up but her breathing is still slowed. I can tell she's about to wake up. Her naps aren't very long lately.
A person walks up to me, startling me. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was the younger looking man from the Egyptian Coven. I wave a hand. "It's alright, I was trying to make sure my daughter was still sleeping." I sigh out, looking down to my niece who was staring up at the man.
"Your daughter?" He asks, looking around. "Her name's Athaliah." I tell him, we begin to walk inside the house, Renesmee sticking by my side because I think she knows we're going to see my girl. "Beautiful name." He compliments, I quietly thank him. His looks are entrancing I can barely focus on what is being said.
It goes silent between us until Renesmee speaks up in a small sweet tone. "He can make tornados, smaller than yours though." I smile down at her. "Really?"
I've only created a tornado once and right as it formed we made it disappear. That was before Renesmee was born though. Of course Emmett told her about it though. "Our gifts are incredibly similar." He tells me. Before he can say anything else though I hear my daughter begin to stir. Her tiny whines sounding out to down here. "Oh, I have to go, I'll be back." I step up the first couple of steps. He stands there, I can tell her wishes to say something though.
Renesmee was already running to the bedroom though. "What's your name?" I ask him.
"Benjamin." He says. I smile. "Beautiful name." I then head up the stairs.
Renesmee is playing with Athaliah through the bars of the crib. I smile, heading over to them and picking up my daughter. "Let's go play downstairs." Renesmee says, taking my hand once again and dragging me back down. Benjamin was still standing there just as he was before I left.
I was glad to be honest. I was hoping he waited for me. "This is Athaliah, Athaliah, meet Benjamin." I bounce her on my hip, pointing to the beautiful man. She tiredly looks to him.
Then suddenly doing grabby hands at him for him to take her. I furrow my eyebrows. It usually takes her a minute to get used to new people. He sticks his hand out, letting her grab onto it. It wasn't enough though she lunges her body forward so he could take her out of my arms. I laugh. "Sorry, you don't have to-"
"I don't mind as long as you don't." He puts his hands out and I shrug my shoulders, handing her over to him. Renesmee watches, a little bit annoyed until Edward comes in and tells her to go with him somewhere. I watch as my daughter puts his face into her hands. I then wondered if that was a good idea looking at his eyes which were red. Meaning he eats humans.
I bit my lip. He looks over to me and I think he can sense my worry. He gives me a short smile and places Athaliah down. She walks back to me, hugging my legs. She's still waking up.
Later in the night Bella and I were getting the girls to sleep. Athaliah sprawled out, her arm going over Renesmee's torso. She's holding onto her hand. I look up to see Bella looking at someone. I trace where. It was Benjamin who was sitting beside Jacob. He was staring at me though. "He seems enamored by you." She whispers, careful not to wake the kids. I snort out a laugh. "Yeah, okay. He wants a single mom." I joke, rolling my eyes.
"I mean the whole time he's been here he's been staring at you. He keeps trying to talk with you and he's brought you up to us every chance he gets. Asking about your ability." She informs me and I give her a look. "Yeah, he's interested in my ability. Not me." I sit up straight, crossing my legs.
"You're so oblivious, [Name]." She comments, sitting up as well. We eventually get up listening to Vladimir and Stefan talk about how they despise the Volturi and why. They were characters, that was for sure.
I sit down by the fire, a log was already there but no one else was there. They all went to different areas of the woods. I stared at the flames wondering how tomorrow was going to go. Someone sat beside me but neither of us spoke. I didn't even move my head to see.
"[Name]." The person speaks up after moments of silence. I hum out in response. "I uh I've never been left this speechless before. I don't know what to say around you." It was Benjamin, I smile to myself before turning to face him. "I'm boring, I apologize." I say, now just observing his features and I wonder what he was like as a human. If he was always this perfect.
"No, you're not at all. You make me nervous. It's a feeling I don't think I've ever experienced." His eyes lock with mine and I badly want to look away. But I can't. I'm stuck in place. "When did you turn?" I slightly change the subject. "1815." My eyes widen to his answer. He begins to laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, that was rude." I rub my hands together, finally looking away due to embarrassment.
"I expected it, when did you turn?"
"Last year."
"A newborn practically and you're that in control of your ability?" He seemed to be surprised.
"I couldn't control my ability completely until maybe six years after turning." He then ignites fire from his pointer finger. "You control the elements?" I ask in amazement. "And you control the weather." He states.
"Our abilities are incredibly similar." I laugh, excited. Watching the flames on his finger tip before he closes his fist and it goes away.
For hours we talk about our abilities, about his life before turning. I do the same. Telling him a bit about Athaliah. It never felt like a bad subject bringing her up like it usually does with men.
He actually asks about her and that's where I feel he doesn't want to be with me but to be friends.
"Your daughter truly has your looks." We both look to my sleeping daughter who is still sprawled out. I smile. "Thank you. She's my everything." I tell him.
"I can tell."
"I'm interested in getting to know you more." Benjamin says, this time he cautiously takes my hand into his. Making sure I was okay with it before gripping a little tighter. "What do you want to know?" I nervously ask.
"No, I mean courting you. You being mine, me being yours." He explains, I scrunch my nose before saying. "it might be forward, I know this. But you, seeing you, talking to you today. It only makes me want to be yours more."
"What about Athaliah, she comes with, we're a package deal. I'm a single mother. She's human, you eat off... humans." I take my hand back, now giving him a serious expression. It feels crazy but I feel the same way. I feel so strongly for him and I can't lose it but I also have to put my child first.
"I'll love her as my own. I'll eat animals for you both. I'll learn." He assures me, I pause for a moment.
"This feels crazy." I laugh out. "But I'll give it a try. I'm interested in getting to know you more." Even though we don't know what's going to happen tomorrow I don't care. I deserve to be happy even for a little bit.
——————
I almost deleted this whole thing after finishing it.
Heart was racing. Almost cried.
If you want to request anything lmk!
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chasing-posts · 2 days
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I like to imagine Dai was a constant figure in Kakashi's life, and not just because of Gai.
I have scenarios in my head, of Dai saluting Kakashi in the street after he graduated the academy when he was 5/6, or when Kakashi became a chuunin Dai congratulates him on the promotion. Being a snarky/ traumatized child, and seeing how most adults are sarcastic or talk down to him about his promotion due to his age and father, I imagine Kakashi actually talks down to Dai at first. Mentions that just because he's older does not mean they are equals, and that Dai'll probably never be promoted.
Dai however, instead of being prideful or boisterous, thanks him for the "advice" Kakashi gives. And thanks him for the support. Dai explains that he would never dare to look down on a ninja who outranks him. He knows Kakashi earned that promotion and that he looks forward to be in the presence of such a spectacular ninja.
Kakashi is... confused. And a bit weirded out by Dai but... thankful? Keeps to a professional relationship where like Gai, he sometimes watches Dai from afar. Watches him give 100% into every day, no matter the mission. And sees him mean comments wash off his back like water off a duck's back. And in comparison to his own father, who could not handle the harsh critism and scrutiny, watching Dai walk through all that publec scrutiny with eas and with his head held high is...commendable. Even cool.
I also like to imagine Dai one day was by Kakashi 's house while looking for a lost cat, and noticed his chickens were not fed that day/ the yardwork/ outside of his house was a little shabby. So he feeds the chickens, cleans their coup and gathers their eggs, before he cleans up the front of the house a little. Maybe fixes a minor repair before heading off, since he knows Kakashi was away for a mission and that he must be busy/ too young to know how to fully take care of a house. So he decides to make a detour to feed the chickens every day, until Kakashi returns.
Kakashi finds out its him right away because Dai has a recognizable scent and he confronts him on why he was near his house while he was away. Dai simply explains he meant no harm, and just didn't want Kakashi's chickens to die while he was away, or for their eggs to go bad. He's sorry to intrude on his home though and will avoid doing so in the future if Kakashi insists. Instead, Kakashi asks about the small home repair Dai did...and if he knew how to fix leaky faucets too.
And so, Dai starts coming over and helps Kakashi with some home repair. Kakashi tries to pay him for the man's services, but Dai is simply unable to take money from a child and says its his neighborly duty, and asks Kakashi to accept some challenges from his son more often instead, and to never let their eternal rivalry lose its spark.
I think a final turning point happens when one of Kakashi's chickens, his FAVORITE chicken to be precise, gets sick and he's not sure what to do. He ends up calling Dai who after examining her, finds out she is egg bound. Kakashi starts to think this is it and its time to kill her, but Dai stops him and with some quick thinking, he's able to help the chicken and get her to lay the eggs that were clodding her system, and keep Kakashi from doing something he regrets.
Its the first time Kakashi ever hugs him, before letting go all embarrassed!
From there on, Dai's a constant figure in Kakashi's life. Helping him with household repairs, cooking him a meal and leaving it in the fridge when he's away on long missions so he doesn't have to cook on his return, and telling him fun stories every time they meet. Dai becomes a cool figure in Kakashi's eyes, not for his ninja status, but for his resiliance and kindness. And in the end it helps him make a closer bond with Gai too.
In the end its just nice to imagine Kakashi having such a kind uncle figure in his life, who loves him like a second son.
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mynameisjag · 2 days
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For anonymous: Prompt: Nicepool crushing hard on Weapon X.
Author's Note: If given the chance, I will write Logan as the embodiment of a feral cat unless specifically told not to.
-
The usual thing about the TVA force hiring Deadpool and Wolverine to help handle cross universe dilemmas happens. Which was usually solved with a good fight, quips, and hauling their blood covered bodies back home for a greasy dinner.
Handling the situation with words…was abit more…problematic…
No one wanted to get near Weapon X to demand the variant go home and Deadpool, well, he had his own issues with his variant.
“The forces of fanfiction are against me, why are you fucking here?!”
“Good to see you too buddy!”
“Fucking how!”
Nicepool just shrugged and did a little wave over at Logan, who waved lightly back, “The forces of the multiverse are a mystery, death and life is at it’s own whimsy command. Much like love.”, and the man was now dreamily sighing and staring lovingly at the pissed off Wolverine variant.
Who was currently distracted by Wade’s Logan.
Logan was steadily just watching the other black clad mutant circle around him, both bristling.
Wade ignored that whole situation, they could take care of themselves like the big girls they are.
“You can not “Pretty Woman” this situation, Miss Lola over there is a man eater in the way Hannibal Lector is.”
“Oh, their name is Lola? That’s so pretty…Lola…”
“Is this what everyone back home feels like dealing with me, shit, I’m going to have to some apology letters or flowers when we get back home.”
“I should get them some flowers, what do you think they’re favorite is?”
“Lily’s, like the ones they use at funerals because that’s what is going to happen.”
Both Wolverines were on all fours and doing great imitations of cats now, hissing and teeth baring included.
“Awe, they are making friends!”, Nicepool clasped his hands in front of himself, sighing deeply again.
“Just fucking stick your dick in a trash compactor, it would end the same!”
“I can give them a better life, I can save them from the streets, I can be their hero.”, there seemed to be actual anime sparkles around the man…Wade waved it all away like a bad fart.
“Lola” was now purring and rubbing up against Logan, both chittering away like the ferret cousins they were.
Deadpool was just staring at his variant, his face being covered did not deter the aura of his annoyance being projected full force at the other, too bad Nicepool paid absolutely no attention to the waves of hatred sent his way, “You know what “Mr. Salt is too spicy for me”, go on, go confess your love,” he dramatically pointed over to the Wolverines, “go on, go-wait, where’s the other one?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, “He left.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he went home.”, he pointed at one of the doorways usually made from the TVA for dimensional travel, “I think he wants me to follow him.”
“Nope, I kidnapped you fair and square, we have a dog and rent together now, so you are not going anywhere. I’ve gotten too used to stealing your body heat at night. I’ve got no body hair to keep me warm, Lo, you’ve got too much, it’s a perfect balance, we can’t mess with the balance.”
Nicepool took a deep loud breath, interrupting the other two as he placed his hand on Wade’s shoulder, who just shrugged it off, “I know what I should do now, wish me luck,” he then turned and went through the gateway like a soldier on a mission, the entryway closing behind him in a zip of light.
“Wow,” Deadpool clapped his hands together once, “he is going to be murdered. Violently. Lola is going to use his thighs and squeeze his head like a watermelon in absolute viscous glee…I’m sorta jealous that’s how that cheery fuck will go out this time,” he turned toward his partner, “will you-“
“-I’m not getting your rotted out brain shit all over my crotch.”
“Fucking damn it!”
-Lola comes from the lyrics, “Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl.”
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craftytragedysalad · 2 days
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First thoughts on Lonestar's final season
I saw Lonestar live yesterday, but I wanted to sleep and collect my thoughts before talking about anything.
I can say that the season clearly has a new point of view and that is probably due to the new showrunner.
I liked it a lot. All the main characters had good screen time. I liked that they gave Carlos a good arc for his change to Rangers. It is clear that he took the job to have full access to the files on his father's death, to me it is totally in caracter for him.
I was afraid on all the story on him being a bad husband to TK this season because we had enough hate on Carlos last season. I don't think we need more, especially thinking on this one being a season finale. Still, I'm really happy to see that he is his normal sweet and loving partner as always, just a little of the balance because of that shit the show did in taking his dad away from him before they could fix their relationship. I know things are going to get worse before they get better, but I am more relaxed about the way the show is handling this.
About Grace, yeah, what she did is not okay in real life. I can't see Grace leaving her husband with his son in a time of need and also leaving her daughter to take care of other kids, we know she would never do that, but at least they didn't get Judd and her divorced or even killed her. It is a bit characterless to have her go off to do "the Lord's work". It's not ideal, but it's not as bad as the other options could be.
As for Owen, I am glad that his concerns this season are real. His sadness and depression are justified, for real and good reasons, I want to see if they give this old man with some childish behavior a growing arc in the final season.
This season premiere was not the best, my favorite will still be the season 3 premiere, but it was good. I hope the rest of the season follows the climate of the first chapter.
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bronx-bomber87 · 22 hours
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Hello lovely fandom and happy Wednesday. We are cruising along with 6x09. Can't believe we're already on the second to last ep. Not a ton of Chenford or Tim in this one but what we do get is GOOOD. It's an all around good episode though. Let us begin.
6x09 The Squeeze
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Recap of 6x06-6x08 got me all in my feels before this one even starts. Poor Tim killing me right off that bat. Always be floored by Eric and his ability to convey so much with a look. How it just makes me wanna hug his hurt away. No wonder Lucy always pulls him in for hugs. How could she not? I’m sure he hasn’t even begun to process how he feels. It’s a lot what just happened to him. It all unfolded in the blink of an eye.
Someone who he used to work closely with killing himself in front of him. Doing so because he’s a dirty cop. Not only that but taking all his secrets with him. Only thing Tim got out of it was Dr. London being dirty too. Grey shows up to the scene and startles Tim out of his thoughts. He debriefs Wade letting him know Mad Dog confessed to being dirty. That he believes Blair to be apart of it as well. Now we all know he didn’t mention her by name.
BUT it was pretty damn implied. With the awkward interactions in the hospital and the rooftop scene. Wade asks if he used her name specifically? Tim tells him no….But it was clear she was who M.D. was speaking of. Grey reminding him to be careful of accusing without any evidence. As amazing as his cop gut is that’s not evidence unfortunately. Loving the hat on Wade btw. Very fitting.
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It’s not too long before the accusatory Detective Pearson shows up. Not loving him from the jump. Couldn't stand him for couple reasons. One because douche bag just comes off him in waves. Two the way he comes at Tim makes me wanna knock him on his ass. This guy coming in way too hot for my liking. Far too eager to pin this on Tim.
Makes my protective Sicilian side emerge and she’s not happy. I do love Grey being quick to Tim’s defense. No one better to have his back in this moment. Lucy would be great of course. But Wade is the superior in this moment so his 'back off ' holds more water. Gotta love this man. Always protects his people.
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Wade can tell Pearson wants to have a slam dunk case against Tim. It’ll further his career to get such a high-ranking officer tangled in a dirty mess. It's why Grey tells him as such. Ugh. What a schmuck. Kudos to the actor though. I instantly dislike him so well done sir LOL The way Tim watches the body get wheeled away breaks my heart. Damnit Eric you’re too good at your job. Expressing so much in that look I just want to hug him. But that’s Lucy’s job later…
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We join Celina officially moving in. This will be an interesting dynamic for s7. Especially after they get back together. I’ll be intrigued how that is all handled... But I’m getting way too ahead of myself. It's hard not to when we don’t know anything. It’s easy to daydream and speculate about the unknown. Anyways John is there and sadly not as a friend but to check in on Celina. She says he’s just making sure she’s not late for her shift.
Nolan commenting would reflect poorly on him and his performance review is coming up. Not selfish at all John….His review should be ‘Needs work.’ But we all know how I feel about him as a teacher. He asks Lucy how she is? I don’t think he expects the epic rant he receives. I mean she has healed some but not nearly enough. Her words sounding like she’s trying to convince herself. Makes me sad. Doing her best to flip all this upheaval into a good thing.
Our girl feels really lost in her life right now. All the turmoil that I don’t know she’s really dealt with. I think part of her having Celina move in is she doesn’t have to deal with it as much. To not have to be alone and sit in her feelings. Because I am the the same way. If left alone too long with my thoughts they eat at me. This scene just being more proof she hasn’t dealt with much of it at all IMO. I know the prevailing theory of the season for Lucy was she was alone. Isolated. I mentioned this in my mini too.
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I think a lot of the isolating is self inflicted. Her and Tim are very alike in how they handle emotional distress. At an arms length and solo. Other than Jackson, Tim is the only one she’s really allowed close to her. Tamara yes but that's always been more maternal and not like what she has with Tim. And even him she doesn’t tell everything to and vice versa. It’s very in character for her to do this. I know people thinks because she’s bubbly, optimistic and outgoing this isn’t the case. But it is. Just like how people who are depressed don’t come off that way. When there a signs of it despite their ‘happy or sunny’ demeanor.
She was isolating herself before the breakup even occurred. Rewatching this season she was doing so from the very jump of s6. Their fight in 6x01 being proof of that isolation. She felt herself overloading and shoved him away with her accusation. That was just the start. 6x04 and her rash decisions with Jeff Budny is a huge one as well. She didn’t include the one person she should’ve in that ep. It's how we ended up in that hospital room with her. I’ve said this many times before. But her and Tim are quite alike in how they handle their emotions.
Tim’s is showcased more especially this season. It's easier to detect. If you're really looking you can see her's. Lucy’s were screaming through out this entire season as well. She is a control freak just like Tim in the way she shuts people out. Even her person couldn’t get in and vice versa. They have the same fatal flaw. It’s why their lack of communication became their downfall. Our girl has as much growing to do as Tim does. I’m hoping all this is a setup for s7 for her. To me her explosion here is an example of her not dealing fully with what happened still. Shall see how s7 is handled for her. I'm hopeful.
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Their convo is interrupted by Angela calling Lucy. First off I love her looking out for Lucy. Just like she does with Tim. There was a great parallel set for this and 2x12. Angela providing comfort to them both when the other is in distress. Our on-screen cheerleader for them both and I love it sfm. Even knowing what a weird place they’re in, she knew Lucy would wanna know from her than anyone else. We love you Angela Lopez. You’re a real one.
She also knows Lucy well to tell her right off the bat he’s ok. You know her heart stopped when she began that sentence. We watch Lucy instantly go into wifey mode. Both in her body language and tone of voice as Angela explains. How she turns her back to the others when it’s about her person. Needing a moment to herself as she absorbs this information.
Melissa crushing it in this scene with everything she does. From closing her eyes taking in the severity of this situation. To the concerned wifey tone she switched to quickly. We all know she has a million and one thoughts rushing through her brain right now. Mainly was he ok? Does he need her? The worry for him settling into her soul and growing rapidly by time the call ends. Once Angela hangs up she finally turns around and updates them. Concern flooding her tone.
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The wifey vibes continue when John gets a call shortly after. Tim has called him to be his union rep. (Only reason he would ever call Nolan in a personal matter...) We watch as anxiety all but pours out of Lucy. Worried wifey mode has activated and it’s not going away. Despite everything they’ve been through. Everything he’s done. Her number one instinct is worry and concern for him. It's deeply rooted. It's who she is.
She loves him so much still. That is written all over this scene and her reaction. That instinct to be there for him coursing through her like a powerful current. I love her stopping Nolan before he goes. The worry seeping out of her tone. Asking how he sounded? Nolan just replying ‘Tight.’ Which is apropos for Tim in situations such as this tbh. The reason she asked this was that she could gather everything she needed to know about his state of mind from that information alone.
When she hears Nolan’s reply her worry increases tenfold. Melissa is killing me in the best way in this scene. Props to her and Eric once again for this season. I can't praise them enough honestly. It hurt so much but hot damn if they weren’t giving their A game and more every single episode. Holy hell. Not that they don’t always. Just with such limited episodes they did really good with the material. Writing was superb for them. They rose to the occasion and then some.
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Tim is so anxious waiting for Nolan it’s making me anxious. He is wound so damn tight right now. Not that I blame him but we can feel the anxiety just seeping out of him. The tapping of his feet, hands, and whole body is tense before Nolan arrives. He pops right up the minute John enters the room. He doesn’t look at all prepared for what Tim is about to thrown down at him.
Nolan tries to ask him questions but Tim doesn’t have time for it. Immediately let's him know what’s going on. That they’re going to want to hang this on someone. Now that Mad Dog is dead their scape goat is gone. All that is left is Tim. He’s STRESSED they’re going to hang this around his neck. That he needs Nolan to take over the investigation. I said this in my mini and I'll say it now.
My first thought was I don’t trust Nolan with this….That I wouldn’t have chosen him to spearhead this whole thing. But Tim doesn’t have a ton of options atm. So he’s gotta go with what he’s got. And that happens to be John Nolan right now. He asks Tim who to investigate? Tim tells him to look into Blair London the rookie police department shrink.
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That he’s been seeing her and so has Aaron. That he thinks she had leverage on M.D. and that’s why he jumped. I wanna pause here and say how proud I am of Tim in this moment. Look at him reaching out for help this time. Not trying to quarterback this alone. Handling this completely differently than how he handled Ray. Not isolating himself and trying to figure this out solo. He’s going through the proper channels this time. Not wanting to do a OP and segregate himself from everyone.
To say it sucks Dr. London is dirty is an understatement. Because my greatest fear would be what she does in this episode. BUT I am forever grateful to her in the same vein. Because despite her being dirty she truly helped Tim in short time he had her. Look at the growth in this moment right now. I’ve said this many times already but I truly hope we continue his therapy journey. The results are astounding and I need more of this growth. It’s just like Chenford ship crack to me. Tim growth is my other drug of choice haha Give it to me writers LOL
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We see Pearson is under Dr. London thumb. (Monica’s really) It leads up to this next scene that makes my blood boil. I hated watching this scene the first time and I didn’t love it any better second time around. It makes me sick to my stomach to watch unfold. How Pearson comes after Tim like a dog with a bone. The way he uses Dr. London to solidly his reasoning makes me all kinds of angry. I'm seeing red.
I HATE them using his sessions and twisting them for their own gain. It was like I said earlier this was my biggest fear of her being dirty. This right here. Gotta commend Danielle Campbell though. She does a really good job in this scene. Even though this was her idea you can see the conflict raging in her. Because she is the one who convinced Tim to go to therapy. For pure reasons actually. To help him out. Which she did. We know that’s why she’s under Monica thumb.
She used her need to help people against her. That she is only doing this because she is being coerced. Doesn’t excuse a damn thing, but explains her hesitation and almost tortured look in this scene. Especially when Pearson comes at Grey. Accusing him of favoritism. Saying he cares more about that than this city. You can see the restraint on Wade's face not to knock this punk out. How very dare you come at him and Tim like this. Makes me wanna rage so much.
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This scene right here is why love Angela Lopez so much. That fiery passion she has for those she loves. How she is unwaveringly loyal to those she holds dear. Tim being that person in this moment. Not gonna lie that’s why I love this moment so much. Calling her husband. Love her of her life to chew him out to defend her brother. Her first instinct just like Lucy is to protect him.
To make sure if he’s charging Tim that she better know first. Hot damn Angela. Tell us how you really feel. haha This man is so lucky to have this fire ball in his corner phew lord. Telling Wes she stands by Tim a thousand percent. That he’s family. Ugh my heart. Gonna make me cry. I love their friendship so much. Give me more of them in s7. Their dynamic is fantastic and I need far more of it in my life.
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We arrive at the best part of the episode. After nearly fifteen minutes filled with tension…We need this hug as much as these two do. My god. I adore her being so attuned to him. Lucy sees him and knows she needs to go to him. She can see how tense he looks. The clench in his jaw very evident. Her look damn near mirroring the worried look she had in 5x19. That same longing look to reach out to him surging through her. Worried Lucy is a fav of mine and we got to have that a lot in this episode.
This time she doesn't stop herself and we all love her for it. She worries about him, regardless of the state of their relationship. It’s what drives her to go after him before his elevator closes. That magnetic pull she can’t explain nor describe. All Lucy knows is she needs to be near him and comfort him. That even from afar she can tell he needs her. As I said earlier Lucy is so attuned to Tim and what he needs. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
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To say Tim is shocked when she keeps the elevator from closing is an understatement. Not only that but stopping it so they aren’t interrupted. Wanting to ensure they have a moment alone. Even when she says to be clear she’s still mad. That this doesn’t change anything. He’s still clueless as to what is going on here. You can see it all over his face above. He has zero idea why she is in here right now.
Because in his mind there is no way she’s thinking about him. Let alone wanting to be there for him in this moment. Which breaks my heart. The last thing he ever expected was for her to care for him. Or about him in any way shape or form. Also the 4x09 vibes coming off this hug had me losing my friggin mind. This hug is everything. It showcases their bond, the intimacy that still exists between them, the vulnerability has me reeling and how they are each other’s safe place still. *happy sigh*
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The way she pulls him in reminiscent of the 4x09 hug. Tim standing there not expecting this moment of comfort and getting it. It’s the way she draws him into to hide in her arms. Just like she did in ‘Breakdown.’ I’m fine….Only difference in this hug from that one is the way he just melts into her arms. The face smoosh into her shoulder. Once again mirroring that infamous hug. We watch all that anxiety and stress just drain out of him. The tension he was carrying into the elevator leaving his body once he's in his happy place. Closing his eyes and surrendering to the comfort she brings him.
He immediately wraps his entire body around her. Melding into her. Easily falling into this hug and her arms. Like two puzzle pieces that are meant to be together. Fitting back together so effortlessly after time apart. Encasing her back in his hands and snuggling in for good measure. Clinging to her like she is his emotional life raft. Because. Well she is. Holding her as close as he physically can. Cherishing this moment. Because I’m sure he never thought he would experience this again. Holding her in his arms like this. Feel her comfort and love.
These two make me insane in the best way. Also let me once again point out Tim's growth. He didn’t even try to fight her like he’s done in the past. He sees this for the gift that it is and absorbs this moment. Savoring it really. The peace you can see on his face floors me. Eric at it again. You can tell this is first time in long time he’s felt whole. This hug is beautiful on some many levels. You can feel the raw emotion coming out of them both.
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The concern that’s been building up in Lucy since this morning coming out in waves. She is tucked in TIGHT to him. Clinging to him as much as he is clinging to her. I'm not ok. You can hear the immense worry in her voice as she asks him if he’s ok? Despite everything she felt the draw to be there for him. The way she looks like she can finally breathe as she asks him that question is EVERYTHING.
We get some good hands hands hands in this hug. I can’t stop staring at her thumbs in that gif either. The soothing way she is running her thumbs up and down on his back and arm. Methodical in her soothing of him. Gah I cannot you guys. Her remarkable empathy shines through in this moment. This was a balm my soul needed so much. That all of us needed. We all know how much our boy longed for this.
Can't get over her face pressed so tightly into his neck. Doing this, as she asks him what she’s been dying to since she received that phone call. Like she couldn’t breathe until she knew the answer to this question. Look at the concern on her face when she does. I’m reeling and sobbing. Lucy looks on the verge of tears herself. Their hearts are just starting to mend in this glorious hug. You can feel it. Ours too.
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No one does hugs like our ship does. They’re always top tier goodness. Holy hell. They’re just breathing each other in. Calming one another down. The anxiety that was raging in both of them cooling down to a simmer in this embrace. He has melted into her like butter at this point. Reveling in the comfort and empathy she's providing him. The way he says ‘I am now.’ Reminiscent of 5x21 and their phone call in the alley. How he wasn’t ok till he heard her voice.
Song remains the same in this moment. He wasn’t ok until now. Until she had her arms wrapped around him for this hug. Didn’t know he was holding his breath till she released it for him. It’s how he sways with her and sinks even further into her arms. Smooshing his face even farther into her shoulder. It’s so sincere his reply back that I am just a puddle of emotion. He’s so vulnerable in this moment with her.
Letting her know he wasn't ok until she was there. Imma scream at how much I love this growth in him. If there was any more doubt in Lucy’s mind of his feelings for her, this hug and his reaction to it should clear that right up. That is a man who is still so in love with her. Letting her know he wasn’t alright until she came and found him. I’m not crying you are…. Find you a person who knows what you need when you need it. Even when you’re not in the best place. That’s Lucy Chen for this man. Reigniting him falling in love with her all over again in this moment.
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Lucy picking up on this growth reflects in her reaction back. Gah it’s the way she tightens her arms around him after she hears this. Closes her eyes and tries to bring him even closer. Trying to wrap him up in her arms even tighter. Absorb any stress he is carrying right now. The sheer relief written all her face. The way she shuts her eyes knowing he’s ok because she is there. *sobs*
Just melting into this man as she holds him as close as she can. Clinging to him as much as he is to her. I’m not ok in the best way. I remember thinking this hug would feed my soul into the hiatus. Just gonna scream into a pillow how much I love this moment. Their chemistry is insane and with a hug? Even more so my god. We are blessed to have a ship where our hugs are this amazing.
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I love this faraway shot of their hug. They are in-sync as they part. How do they do that? We can see how deeply entangled they are. Nary an inch between them. You can see how they were just clinging onto each other for dear life. Look at Tim’s arms/hands. How gentle and intimate his are placed.
Having her as close as he can. It’s the hand gently wrapped around her lower back that has me losing it. It’s just so intimate I can’t get over it. Lucy is retuning the favor in kind. She too is just as intertwined as he is in this moment. Arms clinging to him and her face buried in his neck. Their chemistry on massive display here.
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You’d think the hug alone would be enough to make me squee to death. Lucy follows it up with fixing his collar. I’m dead. The most wifey move of all moves. Reminded me of the lint picking from 5x12. Such an intimate coupley thing to do. I’m losing my damn mind over it. Wife energy coming off her in waves. Just seemed so automatic and natural when they part.
Also she touches her arm before reopening the door. She can’t keep her hands off him and I’m here for it. Tim looks like he’s going to cry in that elevator. I also love Tim putting his hands in his pockets right after. Because if he doesn’t he’ll never let her go. They’ll never get off this elevator. He could've stayed in that hug all day.
Basked in the comfort she had to give him. So he puts his hands immediately in his pockets after they part. Ugh my heart. They miss each other so much and this hug is screaming that. Also screaming how they didn’t miss a beat. How natural and wonderful it was. *happy sigh* This hug giving me true hope for the first time.
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They re-open elevator to find Angela and Harper waiting for them. They look like they’ve been caught. Like they didn’t just have this deeply emotional embrace. The looks they share before Lucy leaves are LOADED. The expression on Angela’s face... She knows they interrupted something. I adore her saying she can get him extradited if he needs it. Love this woman so much. We know just like Lucy she is willing to do anything for this man.
Makes my heart so happy. All these women in his life want is to support and protect him. You can tell Angela wants to be tagged in so badly. Tim telling her won’t be necessary. He didn’t do anything wrong. That she had his back last time. He has different forces at play this time. Adore her saying 'Different isn’t me.’ Not it’s not ha Sadly last of Tim for this ep. *pouts*
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Another telling scene for Lucy. Really really need s7 to clear these things up for her. Because despite being wonderfully empathetic human to Tim. She is still lost in life and not sure who she is. I NEED UC and some other things clarified for her next season. I really do. Just because she’s amazing at UC (and she is) doesn’t mean it’s her path. I do love this scene because it’s just Lucy being Lucy.
Having EIGHT covers ready to go. Our little nerd in action here. I adore it so much. It’s the most Lucy Chen thing she could do. Telling them it takes twelve off duty hours to grow. I love her so much. It’s not a mystery why Tim is so damn gone for her. Their faces as she explains cracks me up. Tim wouldn’t be shocked in the least. Hell I’m sure he was there while she was growing some of them.
The detective line is just another stab at our hearts though. Hoping for clarification and goodness for her career in s7. Manifesting it. As much as I need their reconciliation.(and I need it bad) I need her path resolved just as much tbh. For her to find her purpose and grow. Because once her and Tim do this. That reconciliation is gonna be even sweeter because of it.
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I will say I was impressed with Nolan. Enjoy this it won’t last ha He handled investigating Blair really well. Rattling the cages of the potential dirty cops she was seeing just by showing up to her office. I forgot seasons 1-2 Nolan was a good cop. He just got really annoying after s3. LOL Also roping Smitty in was hilarious. He was already there for the food so might as well use him.
It’s the first time in what feels like a long time I enjoyed John. He enlists Nell too to help him with data from dispatch. Maybe it’s Bailey that makes him extra irritating to me. Lmao Sorry Jenna....lol Anyways quite the miracle Nolan pulled off in this ep getting me to like him. Not only that but commend him on the job he’s doing. Helping out Tim in a major way and I can’t deny that.
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Nolan’s plan works out like gang busters. He went to her office to rattle a dirty cop into revealing himself. Pearson does it perfectly. Losing his mind about finding out they were in Mad Dog's apt. Like I said earlier I commend John on his work in this. Had Tim’s back and then some with his investigation. If they wrote him like this more wouldn’t dog on him so much lol
The other part that is so great is Grey. He is a papa bear ready to devour anyone messing with his work kids. This part was so cathartic to watch after earlier. Watching him dismantle Pearson like the schmuck he is. Was sick of him stomping around the station. Acting like he can just be top dog when he's really on a leash.
Rubbed me the wrong way being disrespectful to Tim and threatening Wade. Watching him attack Nolan/Celina is Grey's final straw. Puts that turd in his place. We watch him visibly shrink as Grey tears him a new asshole LOL All but telling him to stay in his own lane. Get em’ Wade! Nolan putting together the connection of Pearson and Blair due to this. Was fun to watch them piece this together.
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Scenes like this give me agita like no other. My heart was beating in my chest for her. Lucy did a really good job despite the toy. Unfortunately it’s one of those loud musical ones. That not only gives away her position. But possibly her cover in the process. He find it’s on the floor. Looking menacing af. This man gives me the creeps on so many levels. I hated this mission for her on so many levels.
Unfortunately they’ll need her going back into the house. Now that Monica is in play it’s crucial she is there. Especially with Batista investigating who tried to kill her. Lucy is worried they’re going to blow her cover faster with her involved…But it’s a risk they have to take. If Tim knew about this he would be feral. Oh Feral Tim how I miss you. I need more 2x11 feral Tim in my life. That's a wishlist for s7 I suppose.
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The ep ends with Nolan making a deal I’m not sure he can make lol But he was good in this episode so I’ll give him a pass. You can see how panicked she is. I am impressed John got her on this bench I will say. Getting her to almost spill her guts to him. Saying she didn’t think anyone would get hurt. That's what they all say....
I will say I missed Tim a lot in this ep after he was gone. That's my man. But it was a good episode. Reminded me of what a good ensemble cast we have as a whole. That's all she wrote for this one.
As always thank you to everyone for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging these means more than you’ll ever know. Shall see you all in the finale with 6x10 :)
~~~
Side notes-non Chenford
We get more insight in how Dr. London is being leveraged. Of course it’s a Monica connection because she is the absolute worst….
It’s great to see Pearson get nailed to the wall at the end of the ep. Prick.
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John Shelby Vs. Breakfast - A John Shelby/Reader Short.
I haven't written for any of my Peaky lads in a hot minute, so I thought I'd do a little fun, fluffy piece for my fave ginge <3 Enjoy!
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Words - 792
Warnings - None, just John being John!
Clattering. Swearing. Burnt toast. Those are what greet you after descending the stairs, coming into the kitchen to see perhaps the most unnatural sight in the world; John cooking. Or rather attempting to.  
“Bastard, bloody thing!” Yes, the cast iron pan handle heats up while cooking eggs and bacon in it, not that he’d realise, being a man. Naturally, he’s had a woman perform these tasks for him all his life, so why would he know that? “Oh, shit, shit, shit, not again!”  
At least this time when he reaches for hot metal, he has the sense to cover the end of the toasting fork with a kitchen towel, pulling the slices of bread from in front of the fire. “Fuckin’ hell!” 
You stand and watch it, the sexy, ginger ball of stress whirling like an agitated tornado around the space, John much too predisposed by messing up the preparation of breakfast to notice you there, his entertained audience of one.  
“Alright, I can save that. Scrape the burnt bit off. Right, kettle’s almost done. Sodding hell! How the fuck do women do this and make it look so bloody easy?” 
“Because we’re magicians,” you finally speak, watching him jump before he spins around, pointing at you through the chaos of his own making. 
“You should be in bed, still!”  
Shrugging, you approach, stroking his bare forearms, his sleeves all rolled up. “I was wide awake, so I thought I’d get up.”  
He bustles, waving his arms. “No, no. Ain’t supposed to be like this. I had a plan! Bring you breakfast in bed and now it’s all bloody going wrong!” 
Casting your gaze over his shoulder, your eyebrow flutters upwards. “I don’t think that has anything to do with me coming down the stairs, John. The pan is smoking, by the way.”  
His face falls. “Fuckin’ hell!”  
“Do you want a hand?” you offer, watching him move it from atop the range, scraping the slightly overdone eggs and bacon out onto two plates. 
He waves his hand towards the table. “No, you sit down.” 
“I can do the teapot, at least?” 
More hand gestures are directed. “Sit down, bab!”  
He’s adamant to do this, so tucking your dress, you take a seat, picking up the morning paper as he butters the toast. Finishing plating up the breakfast and pouring the tea, he brings it to you, everything a little crispy and haphazardly presented, your new husband looking at you from under a few furrowed brow.  
“Don’t look nothing like when you make it, but I hope it tastes alright, at least.” 
Digging your fork in, you take a first mouthful. “It’s lovely, darling. Thank you. What made you want to cook for me in the first place, though? You always denounce it as woman’s work. Not that you should. We’re in the twenties now, us women are to have our equality.” 
“Oh, not you an’ all!” he groans, rolling his eyes. “You and bloody Pol and your women’s lib!” His little wink indicates he isn’t a hundred percent serious, picking up a slice of toast and taking a huge bite, crumbs collecting at the corners of his lips. “And I did it because I wanna make amends. Ain’t proper that we’re married and I can’t take you on honeymoon. Nah. Even a weekend up the seaside would have been nice. Got all this fuckin’ shit round me neck, though.” 
Indeed, he has. You know well who you married, and the life of a prolific gangster is seldom easy. Or, in this case, flexible enough to allow for time away from Birmingham with his new bride.  
Reaching for his hand, you stroke the freckled flesh, cocking your head. “You’ve no amends here to make, love. I know, I understand. It is what it is.” 
“Yeah, but it bloody shouldn’t be, cos’ you deserve more!” he fumes, forehead creasing. “And I can’t give it to ya right now. Feel like a right bloody joke of a husband, I do.” 
“You know what you can give me, though?” you tease, John not immediately picking up on the connotations. “A bloody good seeing to.” 
He pauses his chewing, an eyebrow arching. “Get that scran down your neck sharpish, bab. I might not be able to take you away even for a weekend, but I can take you to bed instead.”  
To be honest, is seeing a lot of time pressed against a mattress beneath your new husband not the point of a honeymoon? You’ve always thought so, at least, therefore it matters not where that mattress happens to be. Whether further afield or Birmingham, as long as John is there, it’s all the honeymoon you need.  
A slightly cremated breakfast is an added bonus, too.  
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