#he called her on the radio because she was going through such hard time

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

the plot twist at the end of episode 2 was like the plot twist that was yuri!!! on ice episode 10

[lardedallwithsweetflowers]

"As fate would have it, Cusack had fallen in love with a tall, laconic actor called Jeremy Irons, who was starring in Godspell just down the road. It was a case of opposites attracting. 'He was so elegant and refined,' she recalls. ('She was so Irish and wild and seemed to embody everything I wasn't,' he said.)

[...] Sam was born less than 10 months after Cusack's mother died of heart disease in 1977 ('I think he was conceived the night before she died. I like the thought of their two souls mingling'). 'The combination of all those emotions was just too much to deal with,' she says quietly. She recognises now that, for at least six months, she suffered from severe post-natal depression, undiagnosed at the time. Her work and her husband got her through — 'Jeremy has always been my greatest support'".

Sunday Independent, 30 July 2006

[call-memissbrightside]

All I can think about is Katsuki dating someone with a baby—

His friends think it’s a bit odd since he’s in his early thirties and could still mess around before settling down but he’s not having it

You’re a bit nervous to tell him that you had a kid after a few dates, and you think he’s never going to hit you up again when he doesn’t really respond when you tell him, he just drops you off at your place with a emotionless look on his face.

You cry to yourself that night as you put your little girl to bed, and the two year old knows something’s wrong because she’s fussy through the whole night routine. You really liked Bakugou, he made you laugh and respect you but if he can’t accept your daughter than it's not going to work out.

Then the next morning he texts you that he got tickets for three to the local aquarium for the day. You call him, confused.

“That way we can take your daughter?” He’s confused by your question. “Why? Is she too little for the aquarium?”

You’re nervous as hell for him meeting Mai for the first time, but Katsuki is taken back at how your daughter looks just like you. She's adorable, and his stomach flipped taking in how you looked so beautiful in your jeans and simple shirt.

"Hi Mai, I'm Katsuki," He kneels down to the four year old's height but he's so big and the little girl immedietly burst into tears and hides behind your legs.

"Oh honey, it's okay," You coo at her, picking her up. Mai isn't convinced and hides away from Katsuki.

"I'm sorry, she'll warm up," You explain, but you weren't too sure. Mai had a shy personality, and was very attatched to you. You just hoped that Bakugou would be patient with her.

Mai started shedding her shy personality once you arrived at the aquarium.

"Mom, fish!" She yelled in excitement, tugging on your hand to get you to walk faster. Katsuki stands back and just watches you interact with your daughter. He knew he liked you, but seeing you be a mom did something to him and he imagined this being his life forever.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked when you noticed Katsuki seemed distracted.

He opens his mouth to answer but Mai interupts him when she squeals, "Mommy penguins!"

Katsuki was closer to her, and the little girl grabs his hand and drags him through to the penguin exhibit. Bakugou is taken aback, but quickly pushes back his fear of scaring her and kneels down to look at the penguins swimming as Mai squeals in excitement. She can’t pronounce his name correctly, so Mai just addresses him as ‘Suki which warms his heart.

It’s like a switch got flipped and Mai wouldn’t let go of Katsuki’s hand for the remainder of the tour through the aquarium. You stand back, smiling and snapping pictures, just watching as Bakugou showed a much softer side to him.

The day ended with Katsuki buying Mai the biggest stuffed penguin the aquarium store had, and the little girl could barely hold onto it as she fell asleep in her stroller.

“You didn’t have to get her that,” You said, feeling overwhelmed by his gesture.

Bakugou feels a string of anxiety pull in his stomach, wondering now if his actions were seemed as inappropriate.

“I-,” He tries to be truthful, “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. Mai just seemed so happy and I wanted to get her something to remember me by.”

That melts your heart, and you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for being so sweet to my baby.”

Katsuki is blushing so hard, his ears are ringing as he helps you by packing down the stroller and putting it in the trunk while you tuck Mai into her car seat. The little girl was out, but still hugging her penguin.

Katsuki keeps the radio low as to not wake Mai as he drives you two home, holding your hand and already planning the next outing.

[casuallyawkardd]

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: When reader refuses to go on a mission, Miguel decides to pay a home visit to figure out why 

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR ATSV! fluff, slight hurt/comfort and angst if you squint hard enough, Miguel is a softie around kids, it’s giving slow burn/platonic vibes, not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct my wording/punctuation

A/N: This is kind of my way of dipping my toes back into the world of fanfiction writing, if ya’ll end up liking it I was planning on making it a little series of sorts. Not necessarily a multipart story, rather just little moments following the same general characters. I took the liberty of assigning a gender and name to the reader’s daughter since that sounded like it’d be easier in terms of writing, the rest is still like any Y/N story. Reader is also a spider person, but I’m not married to the idea for future oneshots? Drabbles? I don’t know what you kids call them nowadays...

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

It had only been a couple months since you had joined Spider-Society and, while you were still trying to find your footing, things were going a lot better than expected. There was a comradery with being around other people with the same abilities, who had experienced the same losses, victories and all that came with wearing the mask. You had found some good friends among the other Spiders, particularly with Peter B and Jess, as there was a common ground there that you had yet to share with them; something that the three of you had in common.

That commonality was currently asleep in the other room, your daughter Vada. For once, it had been a day where the radios were quiet. No calls from HQ to go on missions, no worrying chatter on the police radios, so you had taken the day to spend time with your daughter. The three year old was going through a phase where she was having nightmares almost every night, so the day was spent at home relaxing. From watching movies, to cooking meals together, Vada had been your little shadow all day and you had enjoyed every second of it.  While your toddler had tuckered herself out, you were restless, curled up on the couch watching TV at a low enough volume that only you could hear, thanks to your heightened senses. It may have been almost midnight, but that was still considered an early night for you. Used to the regime of patrolling until early in the morning and crawling into bed to get a few hours asleep before Vada came in to ask for her breakfast. Just as you were starting to feel the pull of sleep on your eyelids, letting the quiet calm sink into your bones, the moment was then yanked from you. When the beeping started the first time, you had acted on instinct to silence the noise. Your hand practically slapped the Gizmo on your wrist, the same Gizmo given to you by Miguel when you had joined his Spider-Society.  Ugh, Miguel. It was a damn shame that such a pretty face was wasted on a sourpuss like him. While being the leader of an elite group of Spider-People sounded like no easy task, there were times the man definitely took it too seriously. Sure, he had a great work ethic and was a respectable leader, but that all came with the downside that you couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. You two hadn’t gotten off on the right foot and it seemed like he wouldn’t let you live that down. Ever the stern, cold-hearted leader, barking orders and chewing your ass out if something went wrong. He hardly ever smiled and when he did it was condescending, almost smug as he questioned just how intelligent you actually were. A waste of a pretty face indeed.

That pretty face came to mind when you looked down at your Gizmo, which was beeping once more, finally processing that it was Miguel who was trying to contact you. Shit.

“Hello?” your voice is quiet, wary as you answer him finally; trying to keep quiet for the toddler sleeping in the other room. Also because of the worry that you’ve pissed him off once again.

“Why aren’t you answering?” his voice cuts through the silence, monotone and firm. “An anomaly was detected on Earth-616, go take care of it. Ben Reilly and Peter Parker from Earth-13122 are already en route.”

“I....can’t,” you cringe as the word leaves your mouth. The pregnant pause that follows feels like an eternity.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” He spits the word back at you, like you offended him with just the one syllable. More silence follows, Miguel waiting for your answer and you not knowing what to say. “...Is something wrong?”

“I have to go,” you end the call, not even registering the concern that had slid its way into his tone. With a heavy sigh, you lay your head against the back of the couch, regretting how you handled the situation, but thankful it was dealt with. That is until the familiar sound of a portal opening and closing disturbs your precious quiet once more. 

It makes you almost jump out of your skin, physically lurching off the couch, the warm hues from the light of the portal filling your living room and disappearing as quickly as they came. In their place is Miguel, clad in his spidersuit from head to toe. A wave of emotions goes through you, the look of shock, confusion and anger crossing your face in less than a second. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, glancing around the space and disengaging his mask when he doesn’t register any immediate threats.

“What are you doing here!?” it takes all you have not to shout the words at him, instead resorting to a sort of hiss to keep your voice down. Miguel doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“This is why you couldn’t come? Because you’re too busy lounging around and watching trash TV?” he isn’t shouting per se, rather his tone makes him sound louder. That and the quiet of your apartment probably amplified his voice even more. “I know the weight of keeping the multiverse intact might go over your head, but the least you could do is be there for your teammates. I don’t allow slackers in my-” “Shh!” you’re moving towards him without even realizing, motherly instinct telling you to silence the noise that dared try to wake your daughter. Your hand reaches to cover his loud mouth and Miguel takes a step back to avoid your touch, the frustration reflecting in his eyes turning into red, hot anger. 

“Did you just ‘shh’ me!?” he sounds as if he’s in disbelief, his voice now actually rising in volume. You stumble over your words, trying to apologize and explain yourself all at once. Now it’s his turn to step towards you, his imposing frame towering over you and you can’t help but shrink back, “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you don’t get your ass in your suit, I’ll-”

“Mama?” Vada’s little voice cuts through the air, both Miguel and you freezing. When you turn to look at your daughter, who’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, it feels like everything around you fades away. The static of the TV, Miguel, everything until all you can focus on is Vada. She’s clearly distressed, as you come to kneel in front of her you can see the tears in her big round eyes, the redness around them and on her nose, the slight tremble in her bottom lip. You know what’s wrong before she even has to explain.

“Sweet girl, another one?” you ask calmly, a hand going to stroke her hair. Vada nods, confirming your suspicion that she had been roused by yet another nightmare. The creak of the floorboards alerts you of Miguel taking a step closer and you’re suddenly very much aware of his presence once again. However, your eyes don’t leave Vada’s crying face. “Let’s get you back into bed,” you try to coax her into heading back the way she came, your toddler only resisting and shaking her head firmly.

“I want Mama’s bed,” she demands, sounding groggy as the sleep she had just risen from had yet to fully leave her. Vada doesn’t even let you respond before her tiny arms wrap around your neck, face pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder, “Want you,” she mutters against you, the exhaustion and distress in her voice making your heart ache for her. “Vada,” you sigh heavily, exhausted as well. Exhausted from the heavy workload of being Spider-Woman not just for your universe, but other universes as well. Exhausted from the fact your child couldn’t get a wink of sleep and seeing her frustrated made you frustrated as well. You cave, scooping your daughter up in your arms and standing. Her body molds to yours, relaxing against your frame like it had done so many times before. As you rub her back and kiss her temple, you’re forced to turn and deal with the elephant in the room. Or rather the spider. 

You expect Miguel to look annoyed, as usual, but he isn’t. In fact, the anger he was prepared to unleash on you moments ago seems to have vanished, replaced with a look of curiosity, intrigue and dare you say....awe? He’s looking at Vada, who’s about to pass out in your arms, with a softened expression, the sight of the small girl seeming to tug the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

Huh.

Miguel seems to catch himself staring, shaking his head to clear the fog and meeting your gaze once more. “I...didn’t know,” is all he can say, not as confident in the way he stands.

“No one knows,” you reply in a much harsher tone than you intended. After a deep breath, you adjust how you speak, “I’ve only been on the team for a couple months. It’s not that I don’t trust the other spiders...I just want to be careful, yah know?” Miguel nods along with what you say and you can’t help but keep talking to fill the now awkward silence, “Usually I have someone to watch her, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a day to just give her all my attention- I promise, it won’t happen again. I know that I should answer if you call-”

“Cállate,” Miguel cuts you off and you’re almost grateful he’s saved you from rambling. There’s another moment of silence before he sighs, “You don’t have to explain yourself, really. If I had known,” he waves a hand to indicate to your daughter, “this was the reason you were ignoring my calls, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. Your daughter comes first, I get it.”

His words hit harder than they should. Every Spider-Person had heard the story. How Miguel was willing to put his own duties aside to live in a universe where he had a daughter of his own. Replacing the him of that universe, who had died tragically, to live the life he had always wanted; only to have that universe crumble around him. Literally. It explained his cold demeanor, you’d probably be a bitch too if your daughter died in your arms, but that coldness you had become accustomed to seemed to melt away the longer he took in the sight of you holding your daughter.

“You said her name’s Vada?” he asks, stepping a little closer. Normally, you would probably keep your distance from him, maternal instincts in overdrive with an imposing figure like Miguel so close to Vada, but you stay in place. Not bothered by his presence for once. He’s looking at you, expecting an answer, and you nod your head. He hums, “How old?”

“Three,” you answer and he hums again. “...Is everything okay? Regarding the mission?”

“Huh? Oh,” he clears his throat, adjusting his stance and taking a small step back. When had he gotten so close to you? “I think those two should be fine on their own. Earth-13122′s Spider-Man knows what he’s doing and-”

“You know, you can just call him Lego Spider-Man. Everyone calls him Lego Spider-Man.”

“That’s not his correct title.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, holding back a laugh at how serious Miguel seemed to be about the subject. “...Well, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

“Right, right,” Miguel moves like he’s about to walk out the front door, seeming to forget that he had come via portal and catching himself as his hand grasps the handle. Has he always been this socially awkward? He turns to look at you again, “Should I just...?”

“Yes, please open your noisy portal outside.”

“Claro que sí,” he nods in understanding, opening the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses again, turning to look back at you, “Even if you’re busy, you should still answer when I call. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” you repeat, a bit of teasing in your voice.

“Worried as in the normal amount of worried.”

“Sure, sure, O’Hara.”

“I’m leaving now,” he huffs, turning to leave again. Yet he can’t help but stop one more time, “Goodnight.”

He finally leaves, door shutting with a soft click. You go to the door to lock it, carrying Vada into your room for bed. It seems that she had managed to fall back asleep despite your little interaction with Miguel. As you lay down and pull the comforter over the two of you, Vada snuggling impossibly close to you once more, you lie there thinking about what had just transpired. 

Maybe his pretty face wasn’t a waste. 

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[lyjen]

Lifeline

Summary: Everything in (Y/n)’s life seems to be great, until her abusive ex-boyfriend turns up at her home and threatens to hurt Evan. To protect her closest friend, she starts to distance herself from him. Evan notices (y/n) is distancing herself from him, and confronts her. But when the bomb of her ex-boyfriend bursts, she crawls back to Evan.

A request by: Anonymous - the request

9-1-1 Masterlist

______

“Let me do this cap! I can get to her.” (Y/n) spoke up as they started making a plan to rescue one last victim out of her apartment. A woman was stuck inside of her apartment. The building was being evacuated because the building was too fragile and unsafe.

“Hell no.” Evan shook his head wildly as he heard his best friend’s voice. His head shot at her, looking her in the eyes as if she was a crazy person. But it was literally her job to rescue people, if she wouldn’t do it, Evan would do it himself.

But (Y/n) wouldn’t let Evan have all the fun tasks. “(y/n), you’re not going in there on your own.” Evan spoke before Bobby could even think of an answer. She just stared at Evan who was telling her not to go in, but it wasn’t his call. He wasn’t the captain.

It was Bobby’s call to make. So she looked at her captain. “Buck, go with (y/n). She’s gonna need you on the pulley. (Y/n) You’re going to do that rope rescue. Let’s go!”

As soon as Evan and (y/n) reached the roof of the adjacent building, they had to make a jump across to the apartment building which was on fire. They stopped on the edge of the building. A sigh left (y/n)’s mouth, while Evan just grinned. He knew she was stubborn and sometimes didn’t think things through, and this was one of those moments.

Their eyes connect for a small second, making (y/n)’s stomach turn. They toss their equipment to the other side and Evan makes a running start and jumps to the other building with (y/n) on his heels.

His gloved hand touches her shoulder, which sends a shiver down her spine and fills her stomach with some kind of electricity. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Evan asked her one more time. “Well it’s too late to back out now, right?” She said as she secured herself to the rope and clicked the helmet strap into its place. “Let’s do this” she said as she started bracing herself to go down on the side of the building.

Evan secured himself to one of the metal railings on the roof of the building, as he let the rope slide through his hands.

He didn’t like this at all. The thought of his best friend dangling on the side of a building, which was currently being evacuated and was ready to collapse within minutes. Anxiety streamed through Evan’s veins.

(Y/n) rippled down the side of the building as she reached the right apartment window of the woman. She was in the window, waving for help, letting her know what apartment she was in. “Get down and get back!” (y/n) spoke as hard as she could, making gestures with her hand to let the woman know to stand back.

(Y/n) clapped the plastic cover of her helmet in front of her eyes and pushed her body with her legs as hard as she could, so she could gain enough momentum to bash through the window of the woman.

Her body breaks the glass of the apartment building and she falls down with her back on the ground, in the middle of the living room of the woman's apartment.

“Los Angeles Fire Department” she groaned as she got back up from the ground, standing on her two feet again. (Y/n) looks around for the woman, when she spots her, the victim gets off the ground and lets (y/n) secure her in the harness.

(Y/n) backed up towards the window with the woman secured to her harness. “Okay Buck, I got her! Coming back out now!” she talked into her radio. “Copy that, fire’s getting a little close up here. We need to double time this!” (Y/n) stepped out the window frame and let her weight get caught by the rope Evan was still assisting on the roof of the building.

A loud bang sounds through the air, “This roof is gonna go any second!” Evan spoke through his radio. “(Y/n) you have got to lower yourself down the rest of the way. Buck, secure that rope and get the hell off of that building!” Bobby ordered.

Evan secured the rope to the building, “Line’s all yours (Y/n)!”

“Alright! I got it! See you down there!” (Y/n) radioed back as she took over the rope into her hand, so she could ripple herself down to safety.

She tried to go as fast as she could, but when another bang roared through the streets of LA, glass started raining down onto (y/n) and the victim. The victim was hanging with her head into the crook of (y/n)’s neck, not wanting to see the height she was on right now.

For not even a second she stopped, as she could hear the sound of fire burning through material. She looks up at the rope, and sees the flame burning through the rope material, as smooth as butter. Anxiety roared through her veins when she looked down, the airbag was still being filled with air. She knew filling the airbag would take seconds, but at this moment… she didn’t know if she had that much time. The line was gonna split in two, any second. She took one more look at the rope above her, and closed her eyes making one more last prayer.

The rope abruptly split in two, her body was taken by gravity. She fell down multiple levels, with the victim still secured to her harness. She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to suppress a scream. Her stomach turned, as adrenaline streamed through her blood.

Her back made contact with the airbag, as she felt the victim's body landed with half of her body onto the firefighter. When (y/n) opened her eyes, she was facing the dark night sky. (Y/n) unclipped the harness from the woman, so her team could help her. “Watch your head” Bobby spoke as he helped the woman up to her feet. (Y/n) shuffled on her butt towards the side of the airbag.

A pair of hands were being held out to her, waiting for her to accept them. She sighed as she was trying to calm down from the rush she was still feeling. (Y/n) looked up and her eyes connected with Evan, who was holding out his hands. “You always know how to make an entrance” he smiled.

“You have no idea” she whispered under her breath as she gladly accepted his hands, and was pulled onto her feet again. Evan reeled her into a hug and smiled “Still don’t like that you ignored my opinion about going up there.”

______

(Y/n) rushed into the locker room, she was late. For the first time in years, she was actually late for her shift.

She yanked open her locker and zipped her duffle bag open. She took off her shirt and let it slide into her bag. “I thought you weren’t the person to be late for shift” a voice spoke through the room. (Y/n) flinched at the voice, she thought she was the only one in here. She quickly took a glance over her shoulder as she saw a familiar shape.

“Wow, you okay?” Evan asked concerned, he could sense she was upset. (Y/n) grabbed the clothing hanger with her shirt on it. “Yeah, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” She could feel how Evan was moving closer. She hung the hanger back into her locker and unbuttoned the shirt.

Evan let his shoulder lean against the lockers, as his eyes remained on his colleague. His eyes scanned her body, until his eyes wandered along her arm. Bruises were spread all across her arm, with the worst ones visible on her upper arm.

“How did you get those?” he pointed at her arm. (Y/n) put her arms through the holes and pulled the long sleeve shirt over her shoulders so she could button up her shirt. She took a quick look at what Evan was pointing at. “Oh that.. that’s what you get if you fall ten levels down, and the victim squeezes your arm like it’s a stressbal” she brushed it off.

She wanted to get off the subject as fast as possible. The victim didn’t hold on to her arm like it was her lifeline, the victim had her arms slung around her neck. It was the reason she was late, which caused those bruises.

*

(Y/n) threw her duffle bag over her shoulder, grabbed her car keys from the dining table and opened her front door.

Her eyes met a pair of familiar ones when the door was flung open. The pair of eyes she never wanted to see again. It was her ex-boyfriend Joel, right in front of her. She flinched at the sudden shape on her doorstep.

She wasn’t expecting someone to be on her doorstep, and it sure wasn’t like she was expecting him.

“Hey” his low voice sounded through her eardrums. “What are you doing here?” (y/n) immediately shot back at him. She didn’t want him here, or anywhere near her at all. He was an entire red flag walking. But yet, she had fallen for him. Months ago.

“Can’t I just-” before Joel could finish his sentence, she cut him off. “I don’t have time for this. I’m late for work. I have to go-“ she wanted to push past him. But his hand landed firmly on her upper arm.

She was going to be late for shift if she continued talking to him. And she was never late, and whatever Joel had to say wasn’t probably that important. He was always talking shit, and manipulating people.

Joel’s fingertips buried themselves into her skin, a soft yelp fell off her lips when she felt his touch. His grip was getting stronger, and stronger. “You’re hurting me, let go.”

“Good. Maybe it will feel a little like the pain I had, months ago when I woke up one morning and you were gone.” He hissed into her ear. She could feel his warm breath spreading around her ear. She tried to pull herself out of his grip, but he would pull her back stronger.

Months ago, she left her toxic relationship with Joel. She ran from him, and started her new life here in Los Angeles.

“I saw you on the news the other day. That was quite a call, wasn’t it?” he smirked, as he reached with one hand into his pocket to fish out his phone.

“You were pretty close to one of your firefighter friends..” Joel shows her a clip of the news. They had recorded and broadcasted the fragment of Evan helping (y/n) up and hugging her.

“Is this your new boyfriend?” He asks as he tries to look into her eyes to make contact, and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Evan was just a co-worker, and a good friend. Yes, they get along well together. Maybe even too well. And she loved hanging around with him. But they weren’t in a relationship.

“That’s none of your business” she shot back as she tried once again to pull out of his grip, and that was the last straw. He pushed her back into the doorframe with one hand still on her arm, and his other arm now resting firmly against her throat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

How did he find her? Why was he here again? She tried so hard to get rid of this man and yet here he was again in front of her nose.

“Listen carefully.” Joel started. “You are not going to tell anybody about me. Not even your neighbor or some stranger you met on the street.” he continued. “Otherwise, your firefighter boyfriend will soon be in between six wooden boards in the ground. You got that?”

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed as a tear rolled down her cheek, and nodded like her life depended on it.

*

It seemed logical to Evan, there was so much happening that night that he didn’t remember the full details to it. So yes, the victim could have squeezed her arm too hard. He wouldn’t remember if the victim actually had her arms around her neck, or if she was holding on to her like she was her lifeline.

“Hey, I was thinking.. you want to-“ Before Evan could finish his sentence, his words got cut short by (y/n)’s voice. "Buck. Please. Just leave me alone.” she sighed, she sounded on the edge of breaking.

She was scared for her life, for his life. Normally (Y/n) would tell Evan everything that happened in her life. But she had to actually keep this to herself. To prevent herself from blurting out anything to Evan, and to protect him, she would have to distance herself from him. Even though it hurt like hell.

Evan’s face turned into a confused look. They were always together. Evan loved being around (y/n) and she never told him off. Even if she had a bad day, he was the only one in the firehouse who was able to talk to her. As if he was some kind of special whisperer.

“Uhm, okay? I’ll see you in a bit then.” Evan spoke, still confused and struck by surprise. She would never tell Evan to go away. He always wanted her around and she always wanted him around.

______

Blood rushed to the spot where Joel had just hit her on the cheek. They were in the middle of a heated argument.

Tears were streaming down her face, she tried so hard to suppress the tears. (Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed, trying to make the guilty feeling she felt stop. Although she didn’t do anything wrong. He made her feel like she did.

(Y/n) wanted to walk away from the conversation, but then Joel grabbed her hand aggressively and pulled her back. Just when Joel had enough oxygen to yell at her again, the doorbell rings. “Go get that fucking door.” Joel hissed mad into her ear.

Saved by the bell, literally.

Now she had to pretend like nothing was going on, like she didn’t just receive a smack to the face or the bruises that he left on her arms.

(Y/n) nodded quietly at his order and started walking to the front door. As she made her way towards the door, she quickly tried to wipe the tears away from underneath her eyes with the back of her hand.

How was she actually going to pretend like she didn’t cry for the last ten minutes? They were red, puffy and probably made her look like some kind of panda bear because of the mascara that ran out. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down a little and to clear her airways.

She pushed down the lever of the front door, and opened the door so only her head could pop between the doorframe and the door. Whoever was at the door, didn’t have to see what happened in the room.

Her eyes met with those familiar blue eyes she longed to see for a while. “Hey..” Evan spoke as he held his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him as quietly as she could. Her hand landed on the side of the door, holding it into its place. “Well you forgot your -” Evan stopped talking as he realized those big, red, puffy eyes. “Wait, have you been crying?”

”Yeah, just.. a bad day.” she answered simply. His eyes scanned her, well whatever was visible of her. “What happened to your hand?” he pointed at her hand.

She looked at her hand and quickly put it behind the door, so he couldn’t ask anymore questions about it. “Oh, I just bumped my hand into the corner of a cabinet.” Evan furrowed one brow. “Since when do cabinets leave such bruises?”

She brushes it off, and tries to switch the subject. “You said you got something for me?”

She wanted to tell Evan so badly that her ex was back in town. That he had found her. But she couldn’t tell him. Joel would go after everyone she loved. And he knew she had a weakness for Evan.

“Oh yeah, you forgot this when you left.” Evan says as he reaches into his pocket and fishes out (y/n)’s phone, and holds it up as if it was some kind of prize she could win. After a second, he gives the phone back to her.

(y/n) quickly glances over her shoulder, and turns back to Evan. She was on edge, stressed. It was almost like there was someone who was holding a gun at her head. Evan could sense something in the air was different, maybe that something was actually wrong. “Are you okay?”

(Y/n) could feel Joel’s eyes burning into the back of her head, and coming closer. She has to cut off the conversation.

She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her lips into a thin line. “I really have to go.” and without even a “bye”, or a “thank you” she closed the door, just a second before Joel could yank open the door and talk to her co-worker.

(Y/n) didn’t like the way she was starting to push him away. But she had to. For their safety.

______

(Y/n) stepped onto the last step from the stair and entered the kitchen of the firehouse. She can feel people staring at her, their eyes were burning into her skin. But she ignored them.

She grabbed a mug from the upper cabinet and walked towards the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the armrest of the sofa, joining Eddie, Chimney and Evan.

“Are you cold?” Chimney asked as she took a sip from her coffee. She shrugged her shoulders, she really didn’t want to answer his question. But (y/n) knew they wouldn’t drop the subject. “It’s eighty five degrees outside, and you’re wearing a long sleeve?” Evan spoke as he looked up at her.

“Guys, I just forgot to wash my short sleeves, that’s all.” Honestly, they didn’t need to know. She couldn’t tell the real reason why she was wearing it. “Well you can just-“ but before Evan could end his sentence, she sighed and stood up from the armrest she was chilling on. Leaving her coffee on the table, and left the loft again. She didn’t want the opinions of her colleagues.

(Y/n) was overthinking every single thing which made her head pound. So she went to the locker room, to find some painkillers to make it go away. She opened her locker and started to dig through her locker, which was kind of a mess. Just like her life right now, but she could clean up her locker. She couldn’t exactly do that with her life.

Reaching her arm all the way to the back of the locker, it almost looked like she wanted to climb into that locker. “We need to talk” Evan’s voice sounded through the locker room. (Y/n) flinched, hitting her head to the side of the metal locker. “Fuck” She pulled her head and arm out of the locker. The one person she didn’t want to see or speak to, wanted to talk with her.

“Evan. I actually don’t-“ She never called him Evan, it was always Buck. “It wasn’t a question (y/n).” Evan’s voice sounded low, dark and desperate. She placed her hands on the side of the lockers and sighed. She didn’t even look at him.

“Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” Evan was looking at her side profile, with one hand resting on his belt. “Because if I did.. you know you can just talk to me, right?” Evan continued.

He wanted her to know that he’d always be there for her. She could tell him everything, even the worst things and he would listen.

“No..” she whispered under her breath, barely audible. She closed her eyes, as her face was still facing the inside of her locker. She saw this coming, she knew that one day he would confront her with the fact that she was avoiding her.

“I can’t.” she spoke, and let her hands slide off the side of the lockers. She shut her locker with a bang. (Y/n) had to walk away now. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to lose her friend.

(Y/n) turns away from him “No no no! You’re not walking away from me right now. This is what you have been doing for weeks!” Evan spoke up as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back. “Evan. Please.” she pulled her wrist out of the grip from Evan.

It was almost like she was there in her house again, when Joel pulled her back. But she wasn’t. She was in a safe place right now.

“You’ve been acting so weird the last couple of weeks. And I’m sick and tired of you just walking away from me.” Evan’s voice sounded like a mix of worries and anger.

“Clearly you have been keeping secrets, and that’s alright! Of course you can have secrets, but I’m so tired of being pushed away by my friend.” His voice became louder by the sentence. “It's almost like I’m talking to a ghost. I don’t recognize you anymore!”

Evan tried to make eye contact with (Y/n), but she kept staring at her feet. It was almost like she felt guilty for existing.

“Well if you don’t recognize me anymore, maybe you never knew me at all.” She yelled back at him. As she shrugged her shoulders.

Those words took Evan by surprise. He never thought his friend would say that.

“Go away Evan.” She says with a calm tone, as she makes eye contact with her friend. Evan nodded. “It was nice to talk to you.” His voice is full of sarcasm. And he storms out of the locker room.

Thanks to Joel, she wouldn’t have any family or friends left in this firehouse.

______

(Y/n)’s breathing was breathing heavily. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding through her ears. Her cheeks were sticky from all the tears that had rolled all over her cheeks. Her back was pressed against the wall, while her knees were pressed against her chest.

Joel’s voice was still sounding through the room. But none of those words came through. Her vision became blurry by the tears which were welling up in her eyes. She could still see Joel pointing at her and screaming words. But then, he opened the front door and stormed outside, and he yanked the door shut behind him.

(Y/n) had gotten into a fight with Joel, again. He stormed into her house, blaming her that she had told someone about him and what he had done. Of course she told him that she had kept her mouth shut. But Joel didn’t believe her, and that’s when he hit her again, and again. Until where she was now, down on the ground. All alone.

She pushed herself onto her feet, while her hand pressed down on her abdomen, trying to ease the pain. A little yelp fell from her lips, as she felt a shocking pain through her leg.

(Y/n) stumbled over to her phone which was lying somewhere in the corner of the kitchen on the floor. She slowly grabbed her phone off the floor and tapped the screen, hoping for the best. Hoping that somehow, the phone would still work.

“Shit!” She cursed at herself when the phone didn’t react to her actions. She needed help. Right now. Otherwise she would lose herself completely. “Okay.” She tries to calm herself down.

The only thing she could think of right now was Evan. His apartment was not too far away from her. He basically lived two streets from (y/n) and he wasn’t on shift at the moment. That’ll have to do. But would Evan let her in? After all the times she told him to back off? She didn’t have a choice. All she could do was hope for the best and hope that Evan would listen to her story.

In a lot of pain, she grabs her keys and stumbles outside.

When she arrived at the apartment building, (Y/n) grabbed her keys and searched for Evan’s building key. Evan had given her a spare key, so if something would happen to him, she could just enter the building and his apartment.

She found the correct key, opened the door and stumbled towards the elevator.

When she reached the correct level, she stumbled towards Evan’s apartment. There were probably people who thought she may be a damn’ zombie.

She panted when she stood in front of Evan’s door. Her hand hovering over the doorbell. Overthinking her decision. Was this actually a good idea? What if she went through all of this pain, just to have Evan push a door into her face, just like she did with him?

Here goes nothing.

Her hand pressed the doorbell, she tried to keep her balance by leaning her hand against the doorframe.

Evan stood up from his couch as he heard the doorbell ringing through the house. What idiot was at his door at this time at night? It was a few minutes before midnight, Evan should be asleep right now. But his sleeping schedule was pretty much all over the place. He would work double shifts, then he would be working twelve hour shifts, but Evan did what he loved. And if that would mean that he’d live with a fucked up sleeping sheldue, he would be okay with that.

Evan yawned as he made his way towards the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. His eyes met with (Y/n)’s, he quickly scanned her face. Her lip was bleeding and her short sleeved t-shirt couldn’t hide the bruises which were spread all across her arms.

“What the hell? (Y/n) what happened?” Evan’s face was flabbergasted, he knew there was something wrong. But he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

(Y/n)’s mouth opened to answer, but before she could even make a sound, her knees caved in and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her body was now in the hands of gravity, but before her body could meet the ground Evan caught her upper body.

With his arms underneath her armpits he dragged her body inside. He slowly let her slide onto the ground and shut his front door with a kick from his leg. He didn’t want any lookie-loos, that was the last thing he wanted.

Evan let his arm slide underneath her shoulders so he was holding her up. He let his right hand pat against her face, trying to get her back. “Hey! Hey! (Y/n)!” he spoke, it was kind of a loud whisper.

She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, “There we go” Evan said as he saw his friend open her eyes. As soon as she made contact with Evan, she started crying. “I'm sorry” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” she continued.

Evan shook his head, “Let’s sit you down.” he said as he helped her onto her feet. He slung her arm over his shoulder, so she could lean on him and he helped her towards the dining table.

With his free hand he pulled the chair from underneath the table and sat (Y/n) down on the chair. “Wait here” he said as he ran up the stairs towards his bathroom.

When he came down he had a first aid kit in his hands, and he pushed one of his chairs so it was now in front of (Y/n).

He grabbed an alcohol pad and started to clean her wounds. They were silent for a second. “So.. what happened?” he asked as his eyes remained focussed on her wounds. "I lied when I told you I was okay.” she whispered. “I figured as much, when you decided to collapse at my front door.” he said as he continued cleaning the wounds.

“My abusive ex is back. He found me..” she cried as she tried to wipe away her tears with the hand Evan wasn’t holding. Evan’s eyes wandered back at hers

Evan missed the signs with his sister. But how did this happen again but this time with his colleague, his friend, who was right there in front of his nose the entire time. He should’ve known.

“H-He threatened to hurt you if I told anyone that he was back. So.. ” she sobbed through her words. “So that’s why you distanced yourself from me.” Evan finished her sentence, (Y/n) nodded. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt, I needed to protect you.” she confessed.

Evan could sense the amount of stress and how scared she was. “Hey, I am okay, see? I’m right here.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his left chest. (Y/n) could feel Evan’s heart beat in the palm of her hands.

“I’ve got you, okay? He’s not going to hurt you anymore.” His hand was placed behind her ear as his thumb reassuringly rubbed up and down over her cheek, trying to give her some comfort.

“I never meant any of those things I said back in that locker room. You know me better than anyone else, maybe even better than I know myself. But I had to keep distance, to protect you from him. Because I care so much about you. Maybe even more than I should” she spoke. Evan has got a small smile spread across his face. He pressed his forehead against hers, as he continued rubbing his thumb over her cheek.

(Y/n)’s hand traced over his chest, onto the back of his head and tangled between his blonde curls.

Their noses were almost touching; there was barely an inch of space between them. She could feel Evan’s breath tickling her skin. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered and he pressed his lips against hers.

Right now.. Evan was her lifeline, and she needed to hold on to him as strongly as she could.

[thewulf]

Whispers in the Night || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Can i request a jake x reader where they're partners/married and she's pregnant (maybe like 6 months) and he has to go on a mission. when he gets back she's just super clingy because 1) she was worried and scared and 2) she just missed him. and maybe he snaps at her

A/N: TY for the request. Love Jake sm!! Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k +

T/W : Angsty in the beginning

The house felt different without Jake. His absence echoed through the rooms leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill. As you sat on the couch the silence of the house felt deafening in Jake's absence. Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your swollen belly seeking comfort in the life growing inside you. But despite the reassuring kicks and movements from your unborn child there was an undeniable sense of unease that settled deep within your heart.

Each day without Jake felt like an eternity. The minutes dragging on as you counted down the moments until his return. You tried to distract yourself with mundane tasks, but the worry and anticipation gnawed at your insides like a relentless tide. Jake made sure you weren’t completely alone though. His mom came to stay with you for a few weeks. Your mom popped over as she could as she lived a few hours away. Even friends would come over keeping you busy, and mind occupied when he wasn’t there. But the nights were always hard. Always when you craved his touch and sweet whispers. Six weeks was a long time for him to be away in the middle of your pregnancy, but you knew what you signed up for when you married him a few years ago.

Being accustomed to Jake's dangerous line of work did little to ease your anxiety this time around. If anything, the realization that you were six months pregnant only amplified your fears. Every news report, every phone call filled you with dread. You mind always seemed to imagine the worst-case scenarios playing out. To add insult to injury you couldn’t even call him or write him. They were on a no contact mission. Your least favorite.

You longed for his presence, his reassuring touch, his calming voice. But as the days turned into weeks, the void left by his absence only seemed to grow larger, consuming you with a sense of longing for the man you called your husband.

Perhaps it was just your maternal instinct kicking in, but the fear of the unknown loomed over you like a dark cloud. It cast a shadow over even the brightest moments. You tried to stay strong for yourself and for your unborn child, but deep down the uncertainty gnawed at your heart with every passing moment. Fortunately for you it was coming up on six weeks and thankfully it had been radio silent. That was the best-case scenario for these types of missions.

The familiar sound of the front door opening stirred you from your slumber though you remained in that hazy state between sleep and wakefulness. As you shifted slightly in bed you felt a pair of strong arms enveloping you pulling you into a warm embrace. Startled by the touch your eyes fluttered open. Y you were met with the sight of Jake, his beautiful face illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window.

"Jake?" you murmured, your voice heavy with sleep and confusion.

He smiled over at you with his eyes filled with tenderness. "Hey, sweetheart. It's just me. Go back to sleep love." he reassured you. His voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the night.

You blinked trying to process the sudden appearance of your husband. "You're home early though," you observed, your heart fluttering with a mixture of surprise and joy. You were supposed to pick him up from the base in a few days’ time. This was a wonderful surprise though.

Jake nodded as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "The mission ended earlier than expected. Everyone was eager to get back home.  We all voted on coming back. I just couldn’t wait to see my beautiful wife." he explained. His voice tinged with relief as he watched you with the utmost love in his eyes.

You melted into his embrace. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the familiar scent of his cologne enveloping you like a comforting blanket. Despite the initial shock of being awakened from your sleep there was no place you'd rather be than in Jake's arms. As you nestled closer to him you became acutely aware of the changes in your body since he had left. The baby had grown significantly in the six weeks of his absence. Evidence of the new life growing inside you.

He shifted slightly in bed his hand finding its way to your larger belly now. With a tender touch, he traced gentle circles on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "The little one has grown a lot," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and awe as he held you close to him revealing in your heartbeat. It was always a silent comfort he craved and missed so dearly while deployed.

You smiled feeling a surge of affection for the man lying beside you. "Growing big and strong just like his or her daddy," you teased while running a hand through his now shaggy hair. The two of you opted to keep the gender a surprise.

He chuckled softly as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. "I missed you, angel" he murmured. His words a silent promise of his unwavering devotion. And as you lay entwined in each other's arms the worries and uncertainties of the world faded away leaving behind only the overwhelming love and warmth that bound you together.

As the next day wore on, Jake couldn't shake off the feeling of being overwhelmed by your presence. Not that it was your intention. But the sheer intensity of your need for him seemed to permeate the very air around them. You craved him, your every move mirroring his own as if you couldn't bear to let him out of your sight for even a moment.

At first Jake found your clinginess endearing. It was a testament to the depth of your love and longing. A quiet declaration of your desire to be close to him after his long absence. He welcomed your affection. Your constant need for his presence filling a void he hadn't even realized existed.

But as the hours stretched on your constant proximity began to grate on his nerves. Every time he turned around you were there watching him with worried eyes. Your need for him palpable in every touch, every word. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate your affection – far from it. But the intensity of your clinginess seemed to smother him leaving him gasping for air in the suffocating embrace of your love.

Jake's time on the carrier had left him overstimulated. He was constantly surrounded by noise and activity. Now back in the familiar confines of home the silence seemed deafening, yet your presence felt like an onslaught of sensory overload. He longed for solitude, for a moment of peace to collect his thoughts and decompress after the chaos of his mission.

Your concern for him only heightened the pressure he felt. The weight of your worry pressing down on him. He knew you meant well, that your clinginess was a manifestation of your love and longing for him. But right now, he just needed space. With every touch, every word, he felt the walls closing in around him. The need for air becoming more desperate with each passing moment. He tried to push down the rising tide of frustration. To swallow the bitter taste of guilt that lingered on his tongue. But it was a losing battle.

As he retreated into himself seeking solace in the quiet recesses of his mind, he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse at the hurt he knew his words would cause you. But in that moment he couldn't bear to think about anything except the overwhelming need to be alone. To find respite from the constant barrage of emotions threatening to engulf him.

No sooner had he settled on the couch trying to catch up on some much-needed rest. He felt your presence hovering nearby. You stood at the edge of the room. Your eyes never leaving him. Your need for his attention a silent plea that echoed in the silence of the house.

"Y/N, can't you find something else to do?" Jake finally asked. Unable to contain his frustration any longer.

Your heart sank at the sharpness of his tone, the hurt evident in your eyes as you took a step back. A tear welled up in the corner of your eye showing him the hurt you felt inside at the words he just spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you whispered. Your voice trembling with emotion. "I think it's the hormones."

Jake's heart sank at the sound of your voice. The weight of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He could see the hurt etched on your face. The vulnerability in your eyes tugging at his heartstrings.

His expression softened at realization of the pain he had caused evident in his eyes. "No, angel, it's not your fault," he murmured. His voice filled with regret. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I was just... overwhelmed."

He reached out to touch your hand, but you pulled away feeling self-conscious over your sudden clinginess to him. With a heavy heart you turned away walking out of the room despite his profuse apologies. Jake watched helplessly as you retreated into yourself. The distance between you growing with each passing moment.

Jake felt a heavy sense of regret weighing on his chest as he watched you retreat away. Despite his apologies he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let you down. That he had failed to provide the comfort and reassurance you needed in that moment of vulnerability. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you. To wrap you in his arms and soothe away the hurt he had caused, but he knew that he had to give you the space you needed.

As the hours passed Jake found himself pacing the empty rooms of the house. The silence you had grown accustomed to weighing heavily on his shoulders. He tried to focus on the tasks at hand to distract himself from the gnawing sense of unease that lingered in the back of his mind. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to permeate every corner of the house. Was this how you felt when he was gone?

Meanwhile, you lay curled up on the bed. Your thoughts consumed by the events of the day. Despite your best efforts to push them away the hurtful words and the sharpness of Jake's tone echoed in your mind. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious of your actions, second-guessing every word you had spoken and every tear you had shed. Even when Jake checked in on you with his concern evident in every word and gesture you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Your need for solitude outweighing the comfort of his presence. You were embarrassed. How could you not pick up on the signs? Of course, he needed space. Missions were a drag. You knew that better than anyone.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the darkness of night descended upon the house you remained cocooned in your own thoughts. The distance between you and Jake stretching on indefinitely.

But as night fell and the quiet of the house enveloped them, Jake couldn't bear it any longer. He found you in the bedroom where you’d been all day, curled up on the bed. Your tears staining the pillow beneath your head. Without a word he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms holding you close as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

As Jake held you in his embrace he felt the tension in your body slowly begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort that washed over him like a gentle tide. He knew that you were pretending to be asleep, your breathing steady and even, but he also knew you too well to be fooled by the facade.

"I know you're awake, angel," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in the darkness of the room.

You remained silent. Your eyes closed as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective shield. Despite the hurt and the distance that had grown between you, you couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of relief that flooded through you at his touch. The knowledge that he was there by your side, ready to mend the cracks in your fragile heart.

"I'm so sorry, angel," Jake whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never should have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you."

You opened your eyes meeting his gaze with a mixture of sadness and longing. "I'm sorry too," you replied. Your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I don’t know what’s going on with me." And with that you felt more tears falling.

Jake shook his head. His expression softening as he cupped your face in his hands. "No, baby, you have nothing to apologize for," he insisted, his voice gentle but firm. "I love how much you care, how much you need me. It's what makes us work. I let my own stress get the better of me rather than talking about it with you. I should have leaned on you instead of pushing you away."

As his words washed over you, a sense of relief flooded through you, the weight of guilt lifting from your shoulders. You realized that despite the challenges you faced, the love and understanding between you were stronger than ever before.

Jake's thumb gently brushed away the tears that still lingered on your cheeks. His touch tender and reassuring. Pulling you close, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. His hands drifted down to cup your growing belly, whispering sweet nothings to the baby growing inside. The sensation sent your heart into overdrive with a surge of warmth spreading through you at the sight of Jake's adoration for your little one.

And as Jake leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, you felt the steady emotion of love wash over you. The barriers that had kept you apart crumbling away in the face of your shared love and forgiveness.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[ashwhowrites]

Older! Eddie Munson x Neighbor! Reader (reader is an adult) she has a Halloween party, and Eddie didn't like that bc he couldn't sleep all night, so he goes to her house the next day and tells her that for the next time, if she please can be less loud with her parties (and I let you choose, like a bratty reader or not) but they end up having sex either as an apology to Eddie or because she's bratty (but reader has been dying to have an opportunity like this with Eddie bc she thinks he's cute) and maybe they end up having a relationship?

I love older! Eddie

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

⚠️smut

Keep it down

Y/N had a thing for her hot older neighbor. She found herself staring at him ever since she saw him wearing a tank top with loose sweatpants as he worked on his motorcycle. He was drenched in sweat, his hair tied up, and grease on his hands.

Since then, she tried to get his attention. He lived alone, and she assumed single since no same girl shown up twice.

She put on her sluttiest swimsuit, marching out to lay in her front yard. She sipped on her cold water as he cleaned his motorcycle, his back to her. She watched as the sweat ran down his back, hitting the material of his shirt that was tucked in his back pocket. His music blasted from his radio. She relaxed on her back, trying to push her chest towards his direction. But she huffed when he never turned around.

She even pretended to need ingredients. Wearing a small tank and tiny shorts, he walked to his door. She knocked softly, her arms behind her back and a sweet smile on her face. She bit her lip when he opened the door, his hair a mess and his naked chest on display. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers. She couldn't hide the way she checked him out. She asked for sugar and eggs, but her mood dropped when he turned to go into his kitchen and she could see the nail marks down his skin. She snatched the ingredients, rolling her eyes as she marched back to her house.

She smashed a pipe under her sink, letting the water soak her floor as she tried to get her white shirt wet until her bra was seen through. She quickly raced to Eddie's, pounding on his door and asking for help. She thought her plan was successful when he was under her sink fixing her pipe. A smirk on her face as she took in his hard body. Before she could offer a thank you, he wiped his hands and said he had a date. She rolled her eyes again, snapping out a thank you and fun date as she slammed the door behind him.

But now, it was Halloween and she was ready to dress in her sluttiest costume and fuck anyone she wanted. Eddie couldn't get her hints, forget him.

The music was loud, and people screaming just to talk over it. She could see Eddie was calling her phone over and over but she didn't pick up. Another mind game sent his way when she fucked a random guy against her window. She was bent over, facing Eddie's room as the guy fucked her from behind. A smirk on her face when Eddie watched through the window. She swore she could see the anger coming out of his ears. The pissed-off look as he closed his curtains.

Attention? She thinks so

~~~

She woke up to Eddie pounding at her door, she grabbed a blanket to wrap it around herself. Half awake as she opened the door.

"Um yes?" She asked

"Since you ignored my calls, I have to come say this to your face." Eddie snapped, "Keep the parties down. I don't want to be that annoying neighbor, but I've had my share of parties and there's no reason to be that loud."

Y/N giggled as he talked. She could tell he wasn't pleased with her. But she kinda hopes it was because of the guy.

"What's so fucking funny?" He snapped, his eyes glaring at her as she shook her head.

"Nothing, just the classic old neighbor can't handle the young neighbor. I'll try to keep the party down to protect your hearing." She mocked, going to close the door but he slammed his hand against it.

"Was there something else?" She asked, her head turned. She enjoyed the way Eddie growled.

"Yeah, where's your respect? I know you are a young little brat, but I thought respect was still taught in schools. Keep the music down out of respect. Wear real fucking clothes around the neighborhood out of respect. And close your curtains when you have a sad excuse for a dick in you out of respect for yourself!" He barked at her, but she couldn't help but feel the wetness between her thighs.

"Mr. Kuff loves my clothes, and he always tells me so. Oh and Mr. Lase, and even Mrs. Liz. I think the only one who doesn't like it is you. And for last night, it didn't feel like a sad excuse for a dick when it made me cum." She snapped, slamming her door. A proud smile on her face. She finally had Eddie where she wanted him.

She smirked as he pounded on her door again, "Ye-" she couldn't finish her sentence, the second she opened the door, he grabbed her neck. He closed the door with his foot, slamming her against the wall.

"Oh, baby. You have no idea what a good dick feels like. Of course, those old men like looking at your slutty clothes. They sit there and think of you when they suck their wives. They are pathetic and the fact you like their little attention is just as pathetic. But it's not their attention you've been fighting for, is it?" He asked, turning his head to the side as he clicked his tongue. His tone was mocking, he knew his answer.

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction, even though she knew that he knew.

"Cat got your tongue? See, I'm not stupid. I know you walk around the neighborhood, praying I see your ass coming out of your shorts. That I see your tits in that tiny swimsuit. The jealousy in your eyes when I bring girls home. You want it to be you, huh? You just want to be bent over and fucked raw. So tired of the boys who don't know how to fuck you like the slut you are." Eddie squeezed her neck as he reached for the blanket. The blanket dropped to the floor, his eyes taking in her naked body.

"Eddie, please." She whined, her hands yanking at the end of his shirt.

"Please what?" He teased

"Touch me." She whimpered.

~~

"YES, FUCK" Y/N screamed. She bent over her kitchen counter, Eddie pounding into her from behind. She's been clawing at his thighs for hours.

"PLEASE LET ME CUM THIS TIME!" she begged, his fingers rubbing her clit.

"Oh but why? You've done so well the past four edges, why not one more?" He teased, pounding into her. His fingers left marks on her hips.

"See what a real dick feels like now, baby? Think any of those desperate house dads could fuck you like this?" Eddie growled into her ear, she moaned at his words. Feeling herself clench around him. She prayed and prayed he'd let her cum.

"No, they can't." She moaned, she didn't care about those losers. All she wanted was Eddie.

"Do you know how many girls I fucked thinking of you? Had my eye the second I moved in. Just loved your little games so much." He admitted, he pushed her hair to the side as he sucked on her neck. His fingers still rubbing her clit, his cock fucking into her, and his mouth on her neck had her cumming on his cock.

~~~

"Oh, Mr. Boyfriend!" Y/N chanted as he knocked on Eddie's door.

She smiled when Eddie opened the door, wrapping his arm around her and smashing his lips on hers.

She moaned against his mouth, tasting his tongue.

He pulled away with a smirk, following her outside.

"I told you I couldn't eat for another hour, I need to finish the bike." Eddie said, returning to his work on the motorcycle, holding his bucket of cleaner.

"Yeah but I'd love to sit and watch." She said, sitting on the grass.

And just like that, she was watching him clean his bike all over again. But this time he looked back to blow her a kiss

Tags!

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[terry-perry]

Okay i had this idea for some time. But i saw your post about wanting to practice writing Alastor. Can you do Alastor when he was alive? It’s the 1930s and he’s a radio host, i had this idea of reader being a female had to face female stereotypes still(i know in 1920s the 19th amendment was passed but women still had to face the aftermath), she wanted a job that only men could have. So what if Reader dresses as a boy, gets her dream job and ends up working alongside Alastor in his radio station. He doesn’t know that reader is a girl. I wanna leave the rest up to you! How does Alastor find out about reader being a girl and eventually probably falling in love? Like i can see Reader and Al being great friends at first. Im sorry this is long! But i want you to be creative!! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to!

Inspired by the writing of Shakespeare, especially Twelfth Night

You watched Alastor hard at work as always preparing the setlist for the night's show. You loved how he lit up whenever he was doing something relating to his radio show. He was so passionate and full of life. It was contagious and had you wanting a fill of this life as well. Thanks to Alastor, you developed your already-formed love for music into one that could rival his.

Your love for music made you want to try your hand at radio broadcasting. Unfortunately, most, if not all, stations only wanted to hire women as secretaries - to answer calls, fetch coffee, and be at the host's beck and call. There was no way you'd be able to learn the ropes properly like that. This led you to cut your hair shorter than a flapper's bob and purchase some slacks and men's button-ups before going to Alastor's studio in hopes of being his new apprentice.

A part of you was anxious that your disguise would fool no one. Your voice was still rather high-pitched as a young girl no matter how hard you tried to disguise it. You were afraid everything about you resembled that of a woman. You tried your hardest to play it off as though you weren't quite a man yet, but also not a boy anymore. You were in that in-between stage that was neither fully a boy nor fully a man.

Thankfully Alastor bought it. He liked your spark, or rather, "Sebastian's" spunk - the male persona you chose to create for yourself. He loved your taste in music and your willingness to learn the ropes. He hired you on the spot!

Months passed since that fateful day and you'd been able to get by with your ruse with hardly any issues. Alastor had even let you take over broadcasts from time to time!

There was one problem, as of late, however.

You seem to have fallen in love with your boss.

There was an attraction towards him when you first laid your eyes on him. It felt like he cleared all the bad stuff from the air that once trapped you. His spontaneity shined through all his performances. He was always unapologetically himself, which you respected. Then there was the softer side he rarely showed, such as when he interacted with his mother, whom you had the opportunity to meet and have lunch with when you ran into the pair in town. It was endearing to watch them interact, smiling fondly at how he'd comply with her requests.

How could you not love a man who knows how to treat his mother? If a man can only give a little bit of love to his mother, how much more will he be able to love when he falls deeply for a woman who truly captures his heart?

But you weren't a woman to him. You were Sebastian, his apprentice. Whatever bond you formed in the last several months you worked together was purely platonic.

The most you could do was pine for him, gaze longingly from afar, and sigh dreamily as you watched how he prepared for his next show. You've already gotten involved in this situation due to your sense of foolishness and staying because of your love, so you carried on.

The more you got to know him, the more you felt like a deer and your wants have been chasing you like mean, vicious dogs ever since.

----

Alastor did his best to keep busy with his setlist, distracting himself from the feelings he'd been struggling with for a while now. He couldn't explain them or felt he shouldn't since something like this was equated to catching a plague. Society shouldn't blame him for being weak, however. It's just how people were made. Women love, men love, and he knew if he was a woman, he'd love Sebastian.

He wouldn't deny it. Nothing else could describe what was happening to him as he admired everything about his apprentice. His words, expressions, movements, behavior, and energy drew him in like a moth to a flame.

Also, the intense dream he had the other night that involved Sebastian made his feelings especially clear.

He didn't want to recall too much of it while in the studio, but he couldn't forget about Seb's sweet voice beckoning him: "Al, we need to be careful and hide our love." Alastor had to keep himself from getting flustered as he remembered how he would hold Seb's hand tightly, call him sweet names, kiss him passionately as if he was pulling air out of him, put his leg over his, sigh and kiss him more, and then curse the fate that made them belong in the dark.

He really needed to get a hold of himself!

Especially since the night after that, he heartbreakingly discovered that Sebastian was already involved with someone else. He had followed him back to his apartment after a late night at the studio. Seb told him he needn't bother, but Alastor couldn't let him go alone. His strong desire pushed him to follow his sweet boy. It wasn't just love that made him follow him, but also worry about what could happen to him on the streets alone in the dark. The area could be an unfamiliar and possibly dangerous journey even for those who lived there.

Alastor's love for Sebastian, mixed with fear, made him decide to accompany him in the shadows.

How shocked he was to peer up into the window of the apartment. Seb lived on a semi-high floor, so Alastor didn't get a decent view. And yet, he knew what he saw.

A woman with a boyish haircut undressing and preparing for bed.

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you try to cope with Alastor's absence, you find solace with the King of Hell, who presents an interesting offer. However, some unexpected news from Husk forces you to rethink your plans.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, Husk is going to be in trouble, and of course 18+

3.2k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 (You're on it!) Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”

Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.

You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.

“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.

“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.

Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.

For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.

You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.

Sooo now what?

After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.

“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?

“Is – is this your office, sir?”

He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”

You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.

He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.

“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”

Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”

His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”

“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything. Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord/Demon

He looks at you pitifully. I hate when someone looks at me like that. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” You force a smile then hang your head towards the floor to hide the truth. The wounds were too fresh. The last thing you want is another breakdown in front of him. He’s seen enough tears from me. 

Two fingers pull your chin up to his gaze, “Your eyes tell me a much different story. Tell me, does he know of your power?” he asks delicately.

Weird, Alastor never really asked me to show him what I could do. He always just said he could ‘sense’ it. Your brows gather at the realization, “Not exactly. He knows I have it, just not what I can do fully.”

He lets go of you with a sigh of relief, “Probably for the best.”

“Wait, do you – “

“I do not know, though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious. You must have something special to survive down here.” He flashes a devilish grin that makes heat rise to your cheeks.

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have. Can’t hurt for the King to know, right? “Well you were gracious enough to show me your special collection. Let me show you something that’s special to me in return.”

Taking his hand, you lead him to his chair and motion for him to sit down. “Do you have anything sharp?” you ask. He hesitates slightly before grabbing a small knife from his workbench.

“So - I don’t know how this will work with the whole ‘fallen angel’ thing but...trust me?”

His worried eyes are surpassed by a warm smile, nodding for you to continue. You kneel in front of him and take his hand palm side up, “Sorry, this might hurt a little.” He flinches as you slice into his skin and golden fluid gushes from the wound. I didn’t know angelic blood was so beautiful.

Flipping his hand over, you press your lips to his knuckles. A hiss leaves your throat from the sting as the cut heals and blood disappears. Lucifer pulls his hand away to inspect his palm. “Wow…that is…..definitely something,” he breathed in amazement. His hands find yours as he stands to help you up from the floor, but he doesn't let go. Eyes widened in curiosity, “Do you feel anything when it happens?”  

You shrug, “Depends on the wound. Stuff like that just stings. Other times it feels like my body is getting ripped apart.”

Lucifer hums, drawing nervous little circles in your palms with his thumbs, “The gift of healing is something truly amazing.” He seems to lose himself in thought but continues to ghost across your skin. The light touch from his tracing sends you into full body chills.

“You're beautiful.” he whispers under his breath.

You catch his attention to pull him out of his own mind. “I’m sorry?”

“IT’S beautiful - the gift. I mean you’re beautiful too I just - I mean …” You try to hide your giggles as he continues to stammer like a schoolboy. It was refreshing to see him flustered like this, vulnerable and unsure of himself. He stops to take a breath and recollect his thoughts, “I'm sorry I’m just trying to figure out what you, of all people, could possibly want or need from that…demon.” His voice sharpened bitterly at the word. He really likes to poke the sore subjects doesn’t he.

“I didn’t need anything. And I wanted…it doesn’t matter what I wanted. He made his intentions clear that night that I was only some tool for him. He never cared. And I knew better but yet here I am - “

“Heartbroken…?” 

Tears swell in your eyes as he said the word. Uhg not again…Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show. 

Lucifer wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you against him. He softly presses a kiss to your forehead then to each cheek, taking your fallen tears with his lips. Your body freezes at the sudden affection. This feels wrong…

“Look, I know things are getting bad out there, but I can promise you safety - true safety. You can stay here. Away from the sinners, the exorcists, him…you can be here with me and away from all the evil that floods the streets –“ “No!” you interject louder than you mean to. He cocks his head at your sudden outburst, looking offended but softens when he sees tears continue down your face. “I see why Charlie likes you so much my dear. You both try so hard to see the best in everyone and want to help. It’s unfortunate such kind souls like yours are taken advantage of far too often.” You feel his grip tighten at your waist as he presses a hand to your cheek. This feels so very wrong…Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close

You grab his wrists, not to move them away but rather to make sure they don’t travel your body any further, “I have ways of keeping myself safe, Lucifer. I appreciate your offer but I can’t…I won’t…hide away. I refuse to be caged when there are people out there that need help.”

He lets out a low chuckle and rests his forehead on yours. His eyes close as he sighs, “Your determination and stubbornness remind me so much of her…”

“Who?” you whisper.

His lips hover above yours, “Lillith.”

This IS wrong. “Luci –“

Before you can say anything else his lips interrupt yours. His kiss is gentle yet unwavering. Your body aches from how tense your body has become. Any other sinner would kill to be in your position right now, but your mind is only focused on one person – and it isn’t the one kissing you. I hate this...

Like a saving grace, Lucifer’s phone begins ringing with Charlie’s adorable baby picture lighting up the screen. He pulls away and answers it reluctantly, “Heeeey you! How’d the m – oh? Yes, we will be right there.” He hangs up with a groan and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We will have to put this to the side for now. Apparently, the meeting with Heaven didn’t go well. Charlie needs us back at the hotel.” With his free hand he opens a portal into the hotel lobby and pulls you alongside him. 

Stepping into the lobby, his hand keeps a firm grip on yours. You walk in just in time to see Charlie bursting into tears and running upstairs with Vaggie and Alastor trailing close behind her.

“Charlie wait – “ Vaggie tries to stop her but halts at the banister, knowing she is far too upset to talk right now. Lucifer finally lets go of you and rushes to follow his daughter, shoving Alastor to the side as he makes his way up the stairs.

His face twists into a snarl at the King’s boorishness. Realizing he wasn’t alone Alastor glances over his shoulder to see you staring. A strange mixture of hurt and relief fills your body seeing him for the first time since that night. He didn’t look like his usually pristine self. He looked…tired? Disheveled? Why does he look like he’s been worse off than me? As if he’s suffered just as much? You notice his smile falter as he looks back at you before turning to see Lucifer making his way back down the stairs.

“She seems to need some time alone.” Lucifer announces with a hint of hurt in his voice. Ignoring Alastor, he walks over to you and takes your hips forcefully, making you flinch at his grip. “I think it’s best I take my leave for now. Promise you’ll at least consider my offer, please? I’d hate for you to..” he glares back at Alastor to ensure he was watching, “…get hurt in any way. You’re worth protecting my dear.” He places a long kiss to your forehead and vanishes in a stream of red ribbon. 

You rub your sides where he had grabbed you to take away the sting. Your face contorts uncomfortably at the remnants of his touch and kiss. Alastor takes a step towards you almost unconsciously. You snap to his eyes, silently begging for him not to come closer. You want nothing more than to run to him, to feel his touch, his warmth, his safety but you know it'd just hurt more. He stops, offering a nod as he dissipates into his shadow without a word.

Vaggie fills you in on what happened in the meeting with Heaven. Your stomach turns at the idea of the Exorcists targeting the hotel and your friends. You know you’re going to be needed more than ever come that day. I need to be stronger; they’ll need all the help they can get.

You lay down for the evening hoping sleep would come easy but find your eyes only burning into the ceiling. The Extermination, Lucifer’s offer, Alastor…Your mind didn’t know what problem to try and figure out first. After lying awake for a couple hours, you give up and decide to go for a walk to clear your thoughts. As you walk through the lobby you give a quick smile to Husk who was closing up the bar for the night.

“And where are you off to so late?” he hollers, making you jump from the sudden break in silence. 

“Just need to clear my head, Husk. Have a good evening.” you continue walking towards the front doors. He quickly catches up and puts a paw on your shoulder, “Mind if I join? Some fresh air sounds pretty good right now.” You shake your head and step to the side for him to lead the way. 

The two of you walk in a comfortable silence around the small path circling the building. Distant yells and car horns fill the air from the city below. “Quite an exit from the King this afternoon. Sure got Al riled up.” Husk says casually. You stop dead in your tracks at the comment, “What do you mean?”

“If Al comes for a drink, it’s just that. A single drink. Tonight you would have thought he was trying to drown himself.” “If you came along to try to guilt trip me, don’t bother. He did this to himself.” you bite, continuing down the path in hopes he would drop the subject. 

Husk stops you again, “I ain’t trying to get in between whatever messed up relationship you two have, but as someone who is usually at the brunt of his bad moods, he hasn’t once bitten my head off since you came around. You have an…interesting…effect on that evil bastard.”

You shake off his hand, frustrated at the continued prodding. “That’s exactly what he is. Nothing more than a selfish, heartless -”

“He can’t be too heartless considering...” Husk stops himself seeing your head whip around. You walk back towards him, keeping your voice low, “Considering?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously and takes a deep breath, “Look he never confides in me. I mean he barely speaks to me other than when he needs something. The liquor really did a number -”

You grab his shoulders to stop his rambling, “What did he say?”

“I - I didn’t even know he had the word in his vocabulary -”

“HUSK!?”

“He said…he loves you.”

If it wasn’t pounding so loudly in your ears, you could have sworn your heart stopped. Any air in your lungs felt as though it was sucked out, “What…”

“That was all he said before leaving for the radio tower. It about broke him seeing Lucifer with you. I never thought he’d say something like that out loud.” Husk says quietly, as if afraid someone else would hear the confession. You stare at him for a while, trying to process what he was saying. Your head starts to spin. Is he just trying to lie his way back to me? Why would he even tell Husk anything? Did he really lose his tongue from the liquor? “I - I need to s-sit down.” your knees buckle but Husk grabs you before you hit the ground.

“Woahh - alright yeah let’s get you inside.”

He helps you inside and sits you on the lounge chair in the lobby, “You okay kid?” 

You finally catch your breath and rest your head in your hands, “Yeah, just a lot to take in today. Thanks Husk. I’ll be good.” He takes the hint that you need a few minutes to yourself and starts to head to his room. 

“Actually wait - mind pouring me a double real quick?” you try to ask but it sounds more like a demand. Husk reluctantly walks back to the bar to pour your usual, “You uh - sure this is a good idea?”

No but fuck it.  

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you again.” you slam back the drink, not letting a drop go to waste. You needed to feel the burn to ground yourself and prepare for what you were about to do. 

Husk leaves you in the lobby. You wait a few moments to allow the liquid courage to burn through your veins, then make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

Here we go.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 

[toysrguts]

sally face hc's!!!!

been putting off posting this for god knows what reason sally face fandom plz 🙏🙏🙏

sal:

•cuts his own hair with safety scissors

•his fav food is dino nuggets idc sue me

•runs his own lowkey piercing business. he even pierced larrys ears and ashleys nostril. he wants to make it a career in the future

•somehow so good at comforting everyone but himself

•always knows what to say when someone's having a hard time, probably cuz hes been through a lot and can easily put himself in others shoes

•always really reserved and shy until him and larry go to a concert together

•cares more about price than looks so most of his stuff doesnt match at all

•most, if not all of his clothes are from thrift stores

•most inconsistent sleep schedule ever. sometimes he goes to bed early and sleeps like a baby, other nights hes restlessly playing his gearboy until the sun comes up

•regular cigarette smoker, but will only smoke weed if larrys with him

•so fucking awkward but always has good intentions. bro just cannot communicate for shit

•when he meets new people he likes to freak them out with his glass eye when they least expect it

•definitely a big industrial fan (NIN, skinny puppy, KMFDM, etc) but his favorite band is korn

•also loves music from the late 70s-early 80s that he grew up hearing on the radio cuz it reminds him of the good memories he had with his mom

•his earth shattered when kurt cobain died

•started watching so much mtv after meeting larry cuz he wanted to be more educated on his kind of music

•his shoes are covered in doodles and signatures from the group

•theyre also hanging on by a thread cuz theyre old as shit and hes had them since grade 6 💀

•has a small collection of custom prosthetic eyes with different colors and cool shapes in them and stuff

•when he meets new people he likes to freak them out with his glass eye when they least expect it

•takes halloween VERY seriously

•writes songs for ppl he cares about and plays them on his guitar

•he wrote a song for ash once and she still asks him to play it for her every now and then

•typa fella to never cuff his pants so theyre all faded and torn and gross at the bottom

•collects random animal (or human) bones he finds around the woods of nockfell

•baggy clothes cuz body dysmorphia

•seems really calm and collected all the time but lets it all out behind closed doors

larry:

•sal’s tripsitter

•REEKS of axe body spray to cover the weed stank

•has literally witnessed murder but is DEATHLY afraid of most bugs

•pulls a lot of evil pranks and sal just goes along with it

•lisa taught him how to cook from a really early age

•whenever the gang is hanging out they force him to cook them food but he usually just goes the lazy route and microwaves some mac n cheese

•only really shows his emotions around sal because he knows he understands

•so attractive but carries himself like hes not

•uses humor to cope and often jokes about being fatherless

•has a guilty pleasure for pop music

•a grade above the rest of the group

•frequent guyliner wearer

•his paranoid ass carries a switchblade everywhere he goes for self defense

•actually carries so much random shit in his pockets

•has a framed photo on his nightstand of him and sal at a meet & greet with the members of sanity’s fall

•his band shirts are so ancient most of them have massive holes in them

•the group calls him “larr bear” to piss him off in a loving way

•the look on his face when lisa calls him that in front of people is priceless

ashley:

•hair is so damaged from constantly messing with it

•loves doing other ppls hair too, especially sals (they do matching hairstyles sometimes :3)

•brings her camera literally everywhere and has a scrapbook of a bunch of memories of the gang throughout highschool

•also just takes random pictures sometimes cuz shes really into photography

•carries bandaids everywhere she goes just in case

•has to decorate literally everything she owns and make it look cute

•does not hold back on adding stickers (sal lets her stick them all over his mask sometimes)

•usually dozes off before she takes her makeup off and then just fixes it up in the morning and rolls with it

•collects everyones baby teeth to make necklaces and jewelry with

•likes to practice nail art on everyone

•has the best sense of style out of the whole group. the amount of clothes and accessories in her closet is impressive and she always puts together the most fire fits

•has a huge shoe collection from adidas, to docs, to combat boots

•so sweet and friendly to literally everyone but will actually kill someone if they fuck with her

•has a really hectic home life so she basically trained herself to sleep like a rock through anything

•literally the mom of the group, shes always looking out for everyone especially cuz she has her own little brother she takes care of

•master of diy she can make something out of literally anything and make it look amazing

todd:

•when times get desperate he sells bud from his dad’s garden

•never even came out to his parents, he didnt feel a need to they just accepted it and never questioned him

•has so many plants around the house and has names for every single one

•he doesnt allow sal to bring gizmo to his apartment cuz he once tried to eat bob

•everyones always asking to touch his hair cuz he takes care of it so well its so soft and curly

•spends the most amount of time on the internet than the rest of the group

•probably why his eyesight is dogshit 😹😹😹

•his brain is like its own encyclopedia, he’ll just randomly drop the most insane fun facts on everyone for no reason but its always a good conversation starter

•his parents randomly tell him these crazy stories from when they were young hippies

•they almost named him some hippie shit like “star”

•talks to himself a lot, like actual conversations with himself. sometimes he just narrates what hes doing without even realizing it until his mom walks in and is like “who tf are u talking to”

•on the spectrum and is deadpan majority of the time so whenever hes being sarcastic its so hard to tell

•so full of wisdom literally everyone goes to him for advice, even his own parents sometimes

•thats a left handed mf if ive ever seen one

•not photogenic at all and always has to be suade into being in group pictures

other random things:

•when theres no mysteries to be investigated, the gang likes to have sleepovers at larrys place where they smoke and watch movies and play video games and stuff

•sal and larry take “whats mine is yours” to another level. theyre always together and they share pretty much everything, from clothes to literal toothbrushes (they are disgusting)

•sal brings gizmo to chug’s place sometimes so soda has someone to play with (she likes to style his fur and he steals her stickers)

•a lot of the songs from the ost were songs that sal, larry, and sometimes rob recorded together for fun

•rob also taught them both how to skate

•chug is a massive weeb

•ashley and todd are basically sal and larrys ubers cuz sal has horrible vision and larry got his license revoked

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 57

part 1 | part 56 | ao3

“I need a ride.”

Max is glaring at him over the counter with a skateboard tucked under her arm, no hello and no further explanation because why should he deserve one? Seriously, what is this? National Annoy Your Babysitter Day?

Steve leans over his side of the desk and rests his weight on his forearms, giving her an unimpressed look. "Did Dustin put you up to this?"

"To... needing a ride?" she asks him like he's stupid. God. All these kids are little assholes.

"Uh, yeah to needing a ride." He straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and resting a hip against the counter. "How do I know this isn't some convenient little-" he snaps his fingers for the word "-little scheme you shitheads cooked up to get me to sub in for Hellfire?"

"Steve," she says with feeling. Tucks her chin and holds his gaze. "Do I look like a dork to you?"

And, like, he can’t not take the opportunity, right? She handed it to him on a platter. He scans his eyes over her face, playing it up and humming to himself like he's just really not sure, like he needs another minute to think hard about the question.

"Oh, screw you!" She flips him the bird, but he can tell she's trying not to smile because he’s doing the same thing. Can feel himself caving already like a total softie. Something about these kids, man.

"Okay," he says; feels his face doing something tender and vaguely pathetic. He can't have her thinking he's gone too soft, though — that's how he ends up with another 'unlicensed teen driving his car while he's concussed' situation on his hands — so he pushes off the counter, widening his stance and pointing at her. "I’ll give you a ride, but you can't touch my radio.”

"Fine."

"And I'm dropping you off by 5:30."

That one, she protests. "Five-thirty?”

"Five-three-oh. I have a date tonight."

"Ew."

Wow. The goddamn entitlement. Like he isn’t doing her a huge favor right now. "So what I'm hearing is that you don't want that ride after all."

"I didn't say that," she says in a low rush.

"Mhmm." He glances down at the clock. "My shift's up in ten minutes. You can hang out in here while I finish up if you don't make a mess."

"Oh, if I don't make a mess?" she mocks. "Wow. So generous."

"Thank you," he answers. He goes back to working, keeping an eye on her browsing the aisles while he runs through his end-of-shift tasks — wipes down his work space, pulls his drawer. She seems bothered. On edge. Every time he glances over she's either tapping her foot or chewing her lip or throwing tense looks over her shoulder like someone's watching. If Steve didn't know her he'd think she was psyching herself up to shoplift.

But Steve does know her; knows all the crazy, horrifying shit that she's seen.

The twitchy way she's moving is starting to give him goosebumps.

When he goes to the back to clock out, to put his stuff up and say hey to Keith, she follows him. Hesitantly calling his name down the hall, a nervous quiver in her voice.

"Steve," she says, poking her head around the office door. Quiet. Urgent. Her face so suddenly pale that she looks carsick.

Keith wipes grease on a stack of reports and says, "Hey, you can't be back here," through a mouthful of chips.

Max ignores him. "Steve, I need to go."

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, one second, just gotta—"

"—No, now."

Steve turns and starts counting his drawer as fast as he can. The numbers jumble in his head. He curses under his breath and starts again. Twenty, forty, sixty, seventy—

"Steve!"

"Okay, Jesus, I'm hurrying!"

Eighty, eighty-five, ninety, ninety-one, two, three—

Max snatches his keyring off of his vest.

“Hey! What the- Max!” he shouts as he chases after her.

She’s already tugging open the driver’s side door by the time he catches up. Got a headstart while he was begging Keith not to fire him for running out without finishing his count.

"What the hell?" he demands, wrapping a hand around the fist she’s holding his stolen keys in.

She glares at him over the car door. “I’ve driven it before.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t have my permission then, either, you little shit.” Steve pries her hand open and takes back the keys. Frowns at her as she sneers right back.

Fucking stalemate with a fourteen year old girl, that’s what Steve Harrington’s life has turned into.

But under the bravado he can see that she's afraid, that something's seriously spooked her, and he needs to know what it is.

“…..Go around,” he sighs and slides into the car.

—

part 58

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 7

Pairing: The Grid x Reader, Lance x Reader

Summary: reader in a crash, book club dads worried af abt her

requests open masterlist

——————

You felt nervous going into Spa, a feeling that you just couldn’t shake. You had talked to Kimi about it and even crashed the Haas garage to talk to your best friends, but nothing could shake the pit as you climbed into the pit as the light rain started. Max looked at you and gave you a thumbs up before getting into his car.

You’ve never done great at Spa, the only reason you are P4 is because of the rocket ship that is you car. That was one lap, this is 44 laps. You release a shaky breath and focus on the lights above you. Not even 10 laps later the pit in your stomach increases due to the increased rainfall. You can’t get rid of the feeling despite your intense concentration on driving.

My tires aren’t going to last much longer, I’m losing grip.

Copy, Y/n, push one more lap then we will bring you in.

By the time you reported the tire conditions you were already mostly through sector three. You resteel yourself and push the car as hard as you could while managing the tires.

It’s when you enter sector two that you panic a little. You are losing grip faster than you thought and have begun fighting the steering.

GUYS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING

Y/n?

Y/n? Are you okay? Y/n!

Your wheels lose grip to the track and send you into the wall. It’s a nasty crash that immediately red flags, the debris across the track plus the rain increasing was enough for the FIA to red flag it. Your head is pounding and your vision a little blurry. Only when your ears stop ringing do you hear the radio.

Fuck, yeah I’m okay

You slur the words and pull yourself out of the car, immediately collapsing when you stand up as everything fades to black.

Lance, slow down, red flag, red flag.

Andrew? Who was that, don’t tell me it was Y/n. Fuck, is my wife ok?

It was her, no word back yet. Nothing over her radio from what we can tell.

Andrew, I need to know. Is. She. Ok.

She just said she was ok over the radio. There is debris across the track, stop the car and a marshall will get you back to the garage.

Shit, that’s bad. Andrew, what are you hiding from me?

Lance stops the car and gets out when it is safe to do so, as indicated by the marshal, but his heart drops when he sees you being put into ambulance.

“Mr Stroll, please let me at least let me get you back to the garage,” the marshal senses that he wants to fun over to the scene. Lance reluctantly goes back to the garage where he immediately pulls out of the race and goes to the hospital where they are taking his wife.

Max, Y/n crashed behind you, red flag.

Shit, is she okay?

No confirmation yet, make your way back to the pit lane.

Max feels his heart drop. He knew how uncomfortable you were going into the race and he would do anything to go back and time and tell her not to race. The red flag ended the race, and every driver had a similar reaction to Max and Lance. Max felt sick that that’s how he won, and he said as much in the post-race interviews. It was visible how much he and the paddock cared about you. Every one of your grid dads, as you affectionately called them when talking to Max, came over to him asking for updates, hoping Max would know more since he was your teammate.

“Lance, take a seat, pacing won’t help,” Kimi tells Lance, equally worried and frustrated at the lack of information as they wait in the hospital. Kimi was already on his way after the phone call this morning, this wasn’t what he expected when he touched down. Half the grid is sitting in the room, their legs bouncing or anxiously conversing.

“Mr. Stroll,” a nurse says, causing the both of them to hop up and walk to the desk.

“Who is Mr. Stroll?” she asks and Lance slightly raises his hand.

“I am, this is her father,” Lance says, the nurse motions for the two of them to follow.

“The doctor is in the private room waiting for you,” she closes the door behind Lance and Kimi.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Janssens. I have a bit of good and bad news. Good news is that Y/n only has a mild concussion, some whiplash, sprained wrist, and a small hairline fracture of the wrist. Bad news is that she’ll be out of racing for at least a month,” both Kimi and Lance cringe at the news.

“That’s all? It was a nasty crash,” Lance asks a bit skeptically, looking at your sleeping figure.

“Based on tests and scans, we have ruled out any head, neck, and back breaks. We have her pain meds, which is why she’s sleeping. She will likely be under observation for another day or two,” the doctor says, trying to relay the information in a delicate manor.

“Thank you,” Kimi dismisses the doctor, a hand resting on your shoulder. He and Lance sit in silence for a minute, gathering feelings and thoughts.

“She looks so peaceful,” Lance says softly, holding his sleeping wife’s hand.

“I’ll give you a moment while I talk to Christian and the drivers. Think about when you want to make a statement. I may hate the media, but you don’t want them to be hounding the hospital,” Kimi says before stepping out. Kimi and Christian quickly come to an agreement about the seat, the later not wanting to lose out on his second driver. The grid takes the news relatively well, but they all know how lucky they were, especially you. Pierre and Charles may have been handling it the worst.

“Kimi, will you look over this statement?” Lance asks, knowing the older man is an expert in saying things vaguely.

All-

We want to thank you for your support following Y/n’s crash. She is currently in the hospital under the care of great doctors. We are thankful that she is okay and look forward to a smooth recovery.

- The Räikkönens and Strolls

“Looks fine to me, I will take care of the outside stuff. You focus on our girl,” Kimi goes into Dad mode, sending the message to Red Bull and Lawrence. He posts the statement first on his account, Red Bull and Lawrence following shortly afterwards. Red Bull edited it slightly to reassure fans that you still had your seat waiting for you.

“Lance? You ask as you wake up, wincing from the pain. The room is dimmer, as to not strain you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he says softly, brushing hair from your eyes.

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Going into the wall will do that to you, you got lucky,” Kimi says from beside Lance.

“Dad? What did the doctor say, when can I get back into the car?” your vision slightly blurry as your eyes adjust to being awake.

“You have a concussion, whiplash, wrist sprain, and a hairline fracture. You’ll be out for about a month,” Kimi says, heart aching.

“Some of the guys are here? Want me to bring them in?” Lance asks, doing his best to distract you from the amount of time you will be out.

“Yeah,” you verbally confirm, not able to nod your head due to the neck pain. Lance leaves the room to grab the grid.

“I’m sorry, crashes like this are the worst,” Kimi tells you, clearly still affected by your crash.

“Thanks for being here, you didn’t have to leave everyone for me,” you says softly, thinking about your family back in Finland.

“They want to know that you are ok, and you are still my daughter, of course I will be here,” he replies, his softer side showing.

“I didn’t mean to scare everyone. Robin, Rianna, and Grace weren’t watching, right?” you panic a little, scared for their young minds.

“No, they know you are hurt, but they think it’s just a boo boo,” Kimi reassures you. The grid comes in and sufficiently distracts you, happy to know you’re okay.

You spend the next month in Finland with Kimi and your family, working back to 100%. Kimi takes you karting when you are almost fully recovered, getting you back to normal. Lance visits when he isn’t racing.

“Sissy, why do you have to go?” Robin asks, you tested in F1 cars again and got the green light to race again.

“I have to go drive in circles really really fast, just like Papa used to,” you crouch down to his level. Your sisters equally sad at your departure.

“What if you get a boo boo again?” Rianna asks, and you pause, thinking about how to explain it well.

“Do you stop going to the park even after your fall and get a boo boo there? Sometimes we get hurt, but that’s ok,” you don’t promise that you won’t get hurt, that’s not a promise you can keep. Rianna nods, understanding but sad you aren’t staying.

“Will Lancie come back next time?” Robin asks, not wanting to let you go.

“He will, I’ll be back in a couple weeks, it’ll fly by,” you give you siblings one last hug. Kimi hugs you goodbye as well, he spent the past week going over the track with you and talking about strategies.

When you get to the track, you are stopped by every driver, asking how you are and saying how much they missed you.

“Welcome back,” Fernando greets you when you walk into the club meeting.

“I listened to the audiobook, let’s get this party started,” you smile, happily listening to Lewis and Daniel fight about some symbolism. Your boys pampered you for your return. George brought you coffee from Mercedes, Logan brought you a pastry that he picked up from a bakery. Valtteri gave you some home remedies for your sore muscles that he swore works wonders. Kevin and Nico just hugged you but that was enough for you.

“Max was freaking out, he chewed out the Red Bull team for not pitting you earlier,” Daniel tells you, having filled in for you while you were hurt.

“That’s nice of him,” you smile to yourself. Lewis had also been vocal in interviews about how your crash could’ve been prevented if the race had ended sooner due to the rain.

“Y/n! Have a second?” a reporter asks and you nod.

“See you later, Danny,” you wave goodbye to him and approach the mic.

“Thanks for joining me, I just have a couple quick questions. First off, how are you feeling?”

“I’m really good, a little sore, but itching to get into the car again,” you reply, not giving away more than that regarding your injuries.

“You certainly seemed to scare the grid when you weren’t responding after the crash. How has your welcome back been?” the reporter pushes for more information.

“They’ve been great, they all came to the hospital to visit and have taken great care of me today. I obviously feel bad for scaring them, but they are the best competitors I could ask for,” you smile, before leaving the interview.

“Welcome back, kid,” Max hugs you when you walk into the Red Bull motorhome. You sing Super Max when you see him, having spent the last month listening to the silly songs that have been written for the drivers

“Thanks Maxie. Who is the better teammate, me or Daniel?” you grin, putting the dutchman in a tough spot.

“Daniel, for sure,” Max jokes. Your jaw drops and you turn around, leaving to go to another motorhome. You find yourself in McLaren, singing Let’s Go, Lando, with Lando himself who was happy to join in with your under-the-breath singing. Oscar wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at or murder the two of you.

“What brings you to our home?” Oscar asks once you both stop singing.

“Max said he liked Daniel more than me as a teammate,” you pout, not revealing that you knew he was joking.

“Right, I’m texting Lance,” Oscar shakes his head with a laugh, leaving you and Lando to chat.

“Y/n, love, you just healed, let’s not get hurt by forcing McLaren security to kick you out,” Lance laughs when he sees you and Lando bonding.

“Noooo, we were just becoming friends, she never hands out with drivers that are her age,” Lando whines. You give him an ick face.

“For good reason, you are all icky,” you quickly turn to Lance, “not you, baby,” you smile and turn back to Lando, “why would I hang out with you all and party after races when I can spend time with the older drivers whose company I prefer,” your eyebrow quirks.

“Say what you want, I’ve seen you at our parties. You have more fun than Lance,” Lando grins.

“Alright Lance, let’s go,” you get up, Lance assisting you since you are still a little slow due to the aches still in your muscles. He walks with you hand in hand back to Red Bull where your trainer helps work out your neck muscles and tape your neck and wrist.

“Let us know if you are feeling pain, if you have to pull out of free practice early, pull out. There is no shame if you are hurting,” Christian tells you, before you get to your car.

“I know, I’ll let you know,” you smile, feeling good in the car. After FP1, all of your grid dads found you after weigh ins, checking you over.

“Mi hija, are you okay? Does anything hurt? How is your hand,” Fernando asks, filling his usual position as the overprotective grid dad.

“A little sore, yeah,” you groan as you roll your shoulders.

“Don’t do that, let’s get you to an ice bath, then some heat,” Kevin says. Lance and your trainer don’t bother checking in on you.

“Let’s have a, well what your would call, a girls night. Help you recover,” Lewis suggests. And that’s how you spend the next few nights, in pajamas, with fluffy blankets, alternating cold and heat on your neck, watching movies of books you had read with the club.

“Petition to make this an occurrence each race?” Valtteri proposes at one point, getting eight voices in agreement back. They did a wonderful job of helping you recover, and the encouraging phone calls to Kimi helped you feel more than ready to race when race day approaches.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! GREAT START FROM RÄIKKÖNEN!” The announcer yells into the mic as you gain a few places, toe to toe with Max.

Can I race?

Permission to Race, give em hell, Y/n

You end up winning the race with a 1-2 finish, pulling a Carlos Sainz and Ferrari after his appendix removal. Your first F1 win.

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Y'all this chapter took so long to write. This is NOT proofread once again me and Grammarly were beefing because she doesn't understand fanfiction. Nonetheless, it is 12 am MST and here it is. Now for an overall warning, this chapter talks about so much that I was to let everyone know that I meant for this to be a dark series. That was my goal. I'm so sorry if some of these topics seem like they're too heavy for you. If you feel overwhelmed, disgusted, or just find it hard to read please remember that it is okay and you are loved. This chapter mentions miscarriages, eating disorders, gunshot wounds, suicide, etc. I love you all and stay healthy. I will try to post my 500 followers post soon! Not proofread because eepy. YOU'LL read my chapter unedited and you'll like it! (hopefully). Thanks for reading. -Love you all, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #3 > Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

WARNING: miscarriage, eating disorder, catholic guilt, bisexuality mention??, period underwear, stalking, marital problem, divorce, sexual harassment, guns, knives, gunshot wound, This bitch shoots someone, suicide, mention of a skull, blood so much blood.

Tape Contents: We briefly dive into Heather's past. Adeline makes a call that gives the team a reason to visit the suburbs. Heather makes a decision. You see something other than pink for the first time in four days.

Word Count: 6,296

Seven to Four Years Prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had to get out of Norfolk. She felt suffocated under her father’s watchful gaze and helicopter ways. He was a hard man to love and hard to be around in general. When he drank, she used to pray that he would forget about her, so she became quiet. She didn’t have many friends here anyway, so she took you out of the equation and knew no one else would know her name. 

So, with a heavy heart, she moved her life away to Richmond. She changed her major to nursing and killed that quiet girl from Norfolk. She fabricated real lies that sometimes she couldn’t separate from reality. She stared at girls silently with longing and played it off as admiration if she was ever caught. Catholic guilt stopped it from growing into anything else. 

She was slow to open up about her feelings and showed people an extroverted sorority girl nursing graduate who liked to go to bars on the weekend and let men’s hands pull at her hips desperately in dark corners. 

Now, at twenty-four, she only thought about one thing: how good her stomach looked in this dress. She had thinned out tremendously since the move. At first, it started due to not having enough money to eat anywhere except the shitty university cafeteria. Then, it warped into something else. During its worst moments, she would log her calories or purge food moments after eating it. She could look into mirrors afterward and feel she was achieving something remarkable. Then, sometimes, she would also look at her face and think, ‘Is that what I look like’? 

But tonight, she wanted to do something different, something fun. Having told her sorority sisters this, they all jumped on board quickly, agreeing to meet at the bar around 10 p.m. that Saturday. They were thirty minutes late. 

Heather was gently fiddling with the hem of her short black dress, her eyes flickering towards the entrance every so often as she waited for them to walk in. This year, she wanted to be happier, less suffering in silence, and a little more smiley. So yes, she wanted to have fun with people she called friends. Despite all her efforts, she was sure they could see right through her sometimes. She swallowed nervously as she nursed a margarita. 

The next time she looked at her phone, she saw texts from her former sisters saying that work had been hectic and that they needed to reschedule for another time. So now, Heather Alexander was right back at square one: alone. She glanced down at her dress and frowned slightly at its tight material. It was the kind of dress that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable. Something always felt wrong with that. Heather always secretly knew that she felt an attraction to women and men, but she always felt guilty at the thought. 

She sighed as she debated her next move when she saw him. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen. He had soft masculine features that almost looked slightly feminine, a uniform clad against his chest, and a charming boyish smile as their eyes met. Heather whispered a silent prayer that he would like her as he approached her and introduced himself as David Hernandez. How could she not fall for him instantly? Deep brown eyes, pink lips, dark skin, and a low rumble in his voice made her feel like giggling. 

It wasn’t long before the two of them were getting married. They spent a few months together in domestic bliss. He got some time off from work, and she kept her last name, and they were… happy. 

At least they were happy for six months, and then her world shattered around her as David was deployed to England. She cried herself to sleep the night she heard, and David stroked her back softly to calm her. Heather didn’t want him to leave her and see someone better overseas. She was sure that women would throw themselves at David’s feet, begging him to kiss them, touch them, fuck them, like whores in the street of Babylon. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, looking at him the way she looked at him, talking to him the way she did in his ear late at night. She begged him to try and find some way out of it, scared to lose what was rightfully hers, but he couldn’t. He left that week.

At first, it was just six months, but then it stretched out into a year of deployment—a year spent being faithful to a man across the Atlantic. She called him when she had time, wrote letters to him, sent him emails, and constantly contacted him in any way she could. 

When he got home, it was clear that all her efforts had gone to waste. David was distant. He would sulk in corners of their home on his phone. He would lament on and on about how England felt like his home and how he missed it. She couldn’t stand it. This house they bought together was his home, and it always had been. Why was he struggling to see that? 

The more he talked of his deployment, the more Heather became frustrated with him. Then he started to go out more. At first, it was just to speak with some Army friends on base a few spread-out weekends in the month. Then it was every weekend. 

Heather found that the only thing that could keep him home was sex. So they had sex constantly, like animals in heat. Disgusting and rutting against each other any moment they could. However, the second that it was over, he would withdraw again. He would get dressed and say he had to get to the base. 

Then he was coming late, drunk and slurring, as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and woke her up with sensual touches and dirty talk. She took this as a good sign he was coming home to his wife. He was fucking her and no one else. But slowly, he stopped coming home. He would call her late at night to tell her he would stay with a friend for the night. The following day, he would come home smelling sweet. 

Heather felt lost, searching desperately for something to save her marriage. She was devoting all of her love to a man who no longer wanted it, and she could feel him falling out of love with her. 

Her saving grace was the morning that she found out she was pregnant. She called David with tears in her eyes and told him softly over the phone, and she heard him laugh for the first time in months. And just like that, he was back. 

His soft touches, kisses in the grocery store, and dancing with her in the living room were all back. Her devoted and dotting husband had returned home to her. She could feel the dark cloud of the past couple of months dissipate and the sun shining on her. 

That light lasted a good three months. Heather sat up straight as pain coursed through her body, thundering in her abdomen as she shook David awake with tears streaming down her face. Something was wrong with the baby; she knew it. He drove her to the hospital as fast as he could, but it was too late. She had already miscarried.

Heather took a small sabbatical from work and took time to think about her life. She would stare out of their living room window blankly for hours. David was attentive at first, coming home after work and tending to Heather’s broken spirit. But he soon became bored of that routine. 

When Heather returned to the pediatric oncology unit, David was notified that he was being deployed again to Okinawa, Japan. He was packed and ready by the end of that month. She didn’t see him off at the airport, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to distract her from the fact that he was leaving her again. 

David called her two months into his leave to tell her he wasn’t happy. He wanted a divorce. Then he hung up before she could get a word in. That’s when it all started. Her obsession with consuming anything romantic was almost debilitating. She would visit bookstores and attend readings at the public library, sometimes calling off from work to sit at home with her romances. That’s when she saw you again. She thought that you would have stayed in Norfolk. You had once told her that you loved the water. You liked how it could look gloomy and promising on different days, with mist rolling off the surface. 

She tried not to talk to you. She did. She didn’t want to scare you away like she scared David away. No, no, no, she was sure it would all work out this time. So she loved you from a comfortable distance, watching you from her car on the weekends at night, leaving you her gifts on your windshield—a silent courting. 

She couldn’t help herself on Valentine’s Day. She had slipped into Nicole Smith’s room without Adeline recognizing her, and she gave the table with Adeline’s purse on it a gentle knock with her hip. Heather apologized quickly, telling her not to worry. She promptly dropped to the floor to gather the spilled contents from Adeline’s bag, and she slipped a labeled key connected to a keychain that read ‘or die’ into her pocket. Once she had copied the key, she quickly returned the original to its owner. 

She felt electric when she entered your apartment on Valentine's Day in a dark outfit, a hood covering her face, and four dozen rose petals in a container. She breathed in your perfume as she perused through your bathroom. She traced the spine of every book she could touch on your shelves. She gently dove into your dirty hamper and quickly pulled out a pair of dirty underwear, blood on the inside of them as she shamelessly slipped them into her pocket. Then she got to work spreading the petals throughout your apartment. By the end, she stared at her work, panting lightly as she lay across on your rose-covered bed. 

She had to have you. 

Present Day- March 5, 20XX

Derek and Spencer managed to get to the public library an hour before closing. They pulled your coworker, Valerie, aside. She was a pretty brunette, glasses resting on her face delicately as she stared at the two men with a soft look of disappointment. She knew that if they were here, they had yet to find you, and the thought made her feel like breaking down in a fit of tears. She fought the urge to cry as Derek asked her a question, sliding a copy of the Polaroid you had received on your windshield. “Do you happen to remember anyone coming in with a Polaroid camera?” 

Valerie stared at the Polaroid with a soft frown, trying to remember something helpful. Spencer spoke quickly, “Sometime around January fourteenth, maybe?”

Valerie chewed on her bottom lip before the memory washed over her, “Yes! Yes, oh gosh, she was blonde, I think. I remember telling her we didn’t like flash photography in the library. I only saw the back of her head, but I remember the back of her head and the flash of a camera.” 

Spencer tilted his head slightly and nodded at Valerie’s words, processing the information silently.“Are you sure it was a woman?” Spencer asked softly before Valarie enthusiastically nodded. 

“Yes, it was definitely a woman who took the picture.” She confirmed in a soft voice before she looked down at the Polaroid with a gentle tenderness in her eyes. “She baked me cookies last week, you know?” She looked up at the two men with a sad smile and tears in her eyes. “My cat is sick, and she made me cookies to make me feel better.” She laughed sadly as the tears started to fall. 

Derek placed a soft hand over Valerie’s and gave her a tender look, “We’re looking for her,” The words caused a shaky sigh to escape Valarie’s lips as she pulled her hand away quickly and stood up. 

Her cheeks were red as she cried out a soft “Excuse me.” before she turned on her heel and hurriedly left the room. 

Spencer picked up the picture and stared at you in the photo. The way your hair shined in the fluorescent light, your eyes and smile trained directly on the person you were talking to. You were personable, and the thought made his stomach turn. He looked over at Derek as Spencer handed the photo back to him. 

The two men walked out of the library silently, and Derek let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun starting to settle against the horizon. Spencer walked beside him with his hand stuffed in his pockets, and his head hung a little low in thought. 

Derek broke the silence first, “We should get back to the station to see if JJ and Rossi have anything,” 

And then they rode back in contemplative silence after that. 

March 6, 20XX

You weren’t sure if it was day or night anymore. All you knew was that you were starting to feel uneven. Every creak of wood, settling of pipes, and rumble of the house had your back straightening against the bed. You were sure that Heather would fly in at any moment and touch you. 

A million options weighed heavy in your mind at the scenario; you could fight back again, but that would get you sliced again or worse. You could go with it, zone out as much as possible, let her have her way with you. That option made your head spin with nausea. You had to find a way to get out. 

You licked at the gash on your lip, gently exploring the cut with your tongue until you could feel the warmth of blood again. You pushed your tongue back into your mouth and looked over at your day-old apple on the nightstand, half-eaten and brown. You tenderly took a small bite that wouldn’t require you to move your lips too much. 

You didn’t have much of the day-old meal left; a half-full water and this apple was all you had. You chewed softly, fighting off the nausea that threatened to creep in due to the morphine. 

You tried to remember anything that could be helpful to you. It was hard to think of high doses of morphine. You had played with the knob often; when you were ready to sleep, it would go up, and when you were up, it would turn down. But lately, you just wanted it to be turned up. 

You tried to think of when Heather came into the pink room. She always stuffed her keys into her pockets. A plan was in the making: Get her out of her clothes, and you could get the keys. 

You nodded a little despite your discomfort with the idea of her touching you again. You just had to seduce her a little, which should be easy considering that she was ‘in love’ with you. The only problem with that plan was that you had a mangled ankle and a body running on morphine; she didn’t. Heather’s temper was quick when you talked back, and rage followed if you did something against her liking. 

Maybe begging would work. No, you tried that already. Why would begging work? Perhaps you could hurt yourself just enough to force her to take you to the hospital. But that didn’t work either; she was a nurse. She wouldn’t incriminate herself like that, would she? Maybe total submission would be the key. 

Convince her that you love her back and somehow ask to be let out with her supervision, but that could take forever. 

You started to cry softly as you set down the core of the apple and laid down, wishing to pull your legs to your chest, but the pain of one ankle and the chain around the other made that physically impossible. 

You cried until you felt your eyelids become heavy, tears still slipping out of your eyes as you fell into a morphine-induced sleep. 

March 6, 20XX

JJ paced back and forth in front of the bulletin board, occasionally flicking her eyes over to the photos pinned to it as she tried to chase what was likely to be a loose end. The number that had called yours and left a message full of sobs had been a burner. 

Spencer had tried to tell her to eat something this morning, but as the clock’s hands crept towards nine a.m., she still didn’t feel hungry enough to try. She sighed out another frustrated huff as Emily appeared in front of her. “If you sigh like that one more time, I think I might have to force a croissant down your throat.” 

JJ gave her another dramatic sigh before she put her hands on her hips: “I’m sorry, I just feel like we have no leads. We know it's a woman, but Adeline isn’t likely to be the unsub, and all her coworkers have alibis. It just feels like we are running around with our heads cut off.” 

Emily smiled and gave her a gentle nod of understanding, “I get it, but you pacing around like this isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get you a drink, coffee, or maybe something to eat.” 

“People who eat breakfast consistently are twenty-five percent likely to be more productive at work,” Spencer spoke up from a desk not too far from the two women. 

Emily pointed over at Spencer, “See? You’re making Spencer freak out.” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Spencer frowned at the comment before looking back at a file on the desk. 

JJ’s smile was slow as she let her hands fall to her side and let out a soft, “Fine.” She agreed as Emily walked over to the precinct's breakroom, JJ following her. 

Derek was clicking a pen obnoxiously in an off-beat rhythm. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring on his desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway. “Hello?” 

“Hi, uhm, is this Special Agent Morgan?” Adeline’s voice was shaky through the phone. 

Derek relaxed slightly as he set down his pen. “Yeah, Adeline. Did something happen?” He couldn’t think of another reason as to why she would call the number he had left with her if nothing happened. He was too focused on the case to think of any other reason anyway. 

“Yeah, maybe? I was talking to one of the nurses about something today, and I recognized one of them. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner, but it was an old friend from college. She was more Y/N’s friend than mine, but I talked to her a little.” Adeline’s voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, “I mentioned that she was missing, and Heather had a weird reaction. She smiled for a second. I swear, she said she was sad to hear that, but she looked… well, for a second, it just seemed like maybe she was happy.” 

Derek picked the pen back up again, ready to write down a name. It wasn’t much, but they could visit her. “What was her name again?” 

“Gosh, it was Heather something… Heather, Heather, Heather,” She bit her lip as she tried to think back. “Alexander! Heather Alexander.” 

Derek wrote it down and muttered quickly, “We'll look into it, thanks.” As a goodbye, he let Adeline quickly thank him over the phone before he hung up and called Penelope. 

Penelope, quick as always, picked up on the first ring. “Center of divine intellect,” was her greeting. 

“Good morning to you, too, baby girl. Listen, could you get Heather Alexander's address? Adeline Smith called saying that she had a strange reaction to hearing about our girl going missing.” 

“Easy,” was her answer before Derek could hear the sounds of keys being tapped against and a soft humming sound emitting from Penelope’s lips as she pulled up the address: “4432 Lake Margaret Pl., Chesterfield, Virginia.” 

“You are an angel, Garcia.” 

“I always aim to please,” 

“And you never fail, baby girl.” 

JJ had begged Derek with her eyes to let her go with Spencer. It was just an interview, not even an interrogation, just to see if the connection between you and Heather went deeper than old college friends. So why shouldn’t she go? 

Derek wasn’t one to put up a big fight, so he let her with Spencer. It was only thirty minutes away anyway, so if they needed the team it wouldn’t take too long for them to show up, right? He stayed behind on the phone with Garcia, who was doing her best to see if Heather had any criminal history on her record. 

As the car rolled around the cul de sac, Spencer’s eyes struggled to look away from the plethora of plants in the fenced-in front yard. Pink anemones were scattered amongst daffodils, and what looked like daisies were blooming side by side. JJ rolled the car to a stop, parking it against the curb. 

“Pretty yard,” She muttered as she took the keys out of the ignition. Spencer nodded a little; he had to admit that Spring came in a close second to Fall as the superior season in his mind. The flowers growing after frozen earth had kept them dormant, the welcomed feeling of the sun getting slightly warmer. It was still somewhat chilly at ten in the morning as he stepped out of the car with JJ, but he had to admit, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day weather-wise. 

His head tilted back a little as he stole a glance at the blue sky above them and smiled before stuffing his hands into his pockets and tilting his head toward the house. JJ smiled and walked beside him, happy to be out of the precinct and in the early morning air.

Heather was washing the paring knife she had used on you in her kitchen sink, facing a large bay window in her living room. She swiped at the hardened blood and frowned a little at the memory. Why was she so upset with you? She could hardly remember herself when she got angry like that. 

It was almost fitting, her flying off the handle over something so simple as you not being ready for her love. Was she no better than a man? Had she gotten so accustomed to men's vile and sharp ways that she had somehow forgotten how to be gentle? 

She felt her hands shake as a voice came into her head, whispering her worst fear: She was worse than her father. 

She let tears blur her vision at the thought as she rubbed the knife harder with a sponge, shaking her head quickly. No, no, no, no. She was not like that man. She was not cold like that man. She was lovable. She felt love. She felt overwhelming love for you. She had felt overwhelming love for David. 

Her downward spiral was cut short as she lifted her weeping head and saw a black SUV parked in front of her yard. She quickly wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand and sniffled lightly as she gently slid the knife into the dishwasher, watching two people get out of the van. 

Heather’s eyes were glued to the blonde at first, pretty and fair in the morning sun before her eyes flickered to the man beside her. She recognized him immediately. She was sure it was the same man she almost ran into at the hospital yesterday. 

She dried her hands as she walked around the kitchen island. As they got closer, her head arched to see how close they were. Panic was running through her veins. Her gun was in her room upstairs, loaded. She just had to get upstairs; her feet were quick to try and run upstairs and stash it somewhere close before they could ring the doorbell. Just as the idea seemed plausible enough, the bell rang through the house. 

Heather let out a silent scream of panic as she smoothed out her shirt, fixed her hair, and caught a quick glance of her pretty face in the mirror near the front door before she swung it open with a pleasantly fake smile on her face. Her eyes quickly scanned both of their faces as she smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hi. My name is Jennifer Jareau. This is Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI, and we were just wondering if we could ask you some questions.” JJ spoke clearly as she flashed her badge at Heather, a slight smile on her lips as she looked into Heather’s eyes. Spencer recognized her, finding it strange that he had almost run directly into the beautiful woman at the hospital just the day before. 

Heather laughed softly and nodded as she stepped aside, opening the door wider to let the two agents inside. “Of course,” Her hands were shaking, but she gripped the edge of the door tightly, half tempted to slam it directly in their faces and go upstairs to shoot Catherine and herself to freedom.  

They weren’t on to her yet; she was sure of that– especially given their lack of people– just two against one. She was quick to shut the door behind them before leading the two of them into her living room. “Can I get you two any water? I have some juice.” 

The two agents shook their heads in a polite ‘no, thank you’ way as they sat on the sofa across from Heather. Heather sat on a chair with a soft “Okay” as she eyed them carefully. “Am I in some kind of trouble here?” 

“No, We just wanted to ask you a few questions regarding an old college friend of yours, Y/N L/N.” 

“Well,” She smoothed out her long skirt slowly, remembering to breathe normally, “What about her?” 

“Had you been in contact with her at all? Did she mention anything about someone following her?” 

Heather let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head, “I haven’t really had the time to reach out to old friends lately,” 

Spencer’s interest peaked as he joined the conversation, “How come?” 

Heather’s gaze became a little pointed at the question. Of course, the man has to ask her, “I lost a baby recently, and my husband was deployed soon after, so forgive me for not becoming pen pals with someone I knew at eighteen.” The words were direct and vicious, but she couldn’t help herself. She blew out a soft sigh before she let out a gentle and timid, “I’m sorry,” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously as he leaned back against the sofa slightly, trying to resist the urge to disappear into it. Self-isolation wasn’t uncommon for women who had recently suffered from a miscarriage. That feeling more than likely increased as her support system was ripped away from her. 

JJ gently touched Spencer’s knee before she cut the tension. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Alexander. We’re just trying to piece some information together.” 

Heather ran a hand through her hair before she gave JJ a tight-lipped smile. “I understand that; I’m sorry. Would it be alright if I ran upstairs for some medicine? I feel a headache coming on.” She spoke fast with a tense voice, trying her hardest to pass it off as pain with a rub of her temple. When JJ nodded, she stood up and headed upstairs as calmly as she could manage. 

JJ looked over at Spencer, watching Heather walk away carefully. “She seems angrier with men than anything.” Her voice was slightly amused before Spencer frowned. 

“Doesn’t mean she’s in the clear; stalking is often a form of intense infatuation, but it's also used as a way to control something. She’s struggling with two things that could be our stressors: she’s craving control or dependency. She-” The soft ringing of his phone cut off his whispered rant. He answered it, happy that at least it was just Garcia calling, hoping for a better lead than his ongoing hunch. 

He stood and looked at JJ, who was mouthing for him to go outside, “Hey,” He answered as he slipped out of the front door. 

“Hey, nothing is coming up anywhere on Heather’s record for criminal activity—sorority sister, wife, nurse, clean as a whistle. However, considering we don’t have much right now, I decided to see if she had any warnings at work.” 

“Right,” Spencer looked over his shoulder at the front door as he walked away to stand in front of the garage. 

“Well, last month, she got a write-up for stealing some morphine; her supervisor forced her to go see a therapist after Heather said that she was using it for some leftover pain she was experiencing after her miscarriage. But Heather never showed,” 

Spencer was walking a little further down the driveway as he listened to Garcia talk on the phone, counting the number of windows in the house. His eyes narrowed slightly to try and block out the sun before he looked away. He licked his bottom lip gently before acting on his little hunch, “Could you check her credit report? See if there are any purchases that you can find that seem odd around March third?” 

“Could I check her credit report,” Garcia repeated with a laugh, “Hold on, boy genius.” 

Spencer could see the top of JJ’s head from the bay window, and he turned away slightly, finding ease in the fact that she was still there. Something felt off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “She went to the store, but nothing crazy. Bought,” He could hear typing, “Bleach and rubbing alcohol.” 

Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek as he asked, “When was her husband deployed again? Did she buy anything from a florist around Valentine’s Day?” 

“Husband was deployed December first and,” she hummed gently before she sighed, “Bought some flowers on Valentine’s day, rose petals.” 

Spencer felt that feeling when something connected in his brain, a rush of adrenaline as he felt his hunch slowly turn into a plausible accusation. The roses were just that, roses. But the bleach and rubbing alcohol? That’s a recipe for chloroform right there. And finally, Heather’s husband was deployed at the beginning of December, stressor number two. It made him feel slightly hopeful about walking back into the house. “Thanks, Garcia.” He said as his feet reached the end of the driveway. He hung up the phone, walking back towards the house at a fast pace when the familiar and startling 'crack' of a gun reached his ears. 

His hands drew his gun out of the holster, running back towards the house. He pushed the front door open with his foot as he heard the thumping of footsteps running on the stairs. He rounded the corner to the living room before lowering his gun as he saw JJ bleeding from a bullet wound in her thigh. 

“JJ!” His voice panicked as he reached her groaning side, kneeling low to the ground next to her. “What happened?” 

JJ shook her head quickly, “I’m calling for backup. She ran upstairs. She didn’t even try to,” her eyes squeezed shut tightly as a sharp pain rattled through her inner thigh, “Just go!” She urged him as she reached down for the phone in her back pocket, her free hand pressing on her gushing wound to try and slow the bleeding. 

Spencer’s eyes were filled with uncertainty as he let out a soft, “No, I’ll stay here until everyone gets-” 

“Spencer, go!” 

Spencer felt his spine straighten at the second command. He gave her a grim nod as he stood up, readied his gun, and started for the stairs. His footsteps were soft and calculated as he ascended, pink light flooding the floor as he approached the top of the stairs. He could hear gentle begging in a voice too soft and thick to be Heather’s. 

“Please, Heather, please, my love. Don’t, please don’t.” Repetitive cries for mercy made his legs move faster until he approached an opened door. The regular-looking bedroom door gave way to a steel one just behind it before revealing the scene of what looked like a demented love nest. 

Spencer swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the scene. Gun pointed carefully at Heather as he spoke, “Heather, put down the gun. You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. You know that.” 

Heather jumped a little at the sound, her pistol clicking softly as her sweaty palms tightened their grip. She was quick to turn her body around to face him with the gun aimed directly at him as she spoke. “Don’t pretend like you know me or her. You don’t know our relationship. She wants this just as much as I do.” 

“You know she doesn’t look at her. Look at what you’re doing to her.” 

Heather’s eyes drifted to you, chained to the bed, watching as you hyperventilate softly. Heather felt her bottom lip quiver before she looked back at Spencer. “She’s just scared. You’re making me do this. She knows you’re making me do this.” 

Spencer’s eyes drifted to your crying form on the bed, trying to keep your sobs quiet as you stared at him with wild eyes. He glanced over at the morphine drip next to your bed before his eyes settled back on Heather. His lips parted to say something more, but she cut him off quickly, “Put your gun down, and I won’t do it.” 

Heather’s body language gives her away as she motions for him to put his gun down, her eyes crazed and large, her hands shaking and rigid against her pistol. “I’m not going to-” 

“Put your fucking, gun down, or she dies,” Heather yells so loud that it elicits a soft sob from your lips, your arms coming up to protect your head, ready for the shot to be administered and for your brains to be blown out in front of Spencer in that very moment. 

Spencer holds up both of his hands at that; he swears he can hear the soft sounds of sirens in the distance as he lowers his gun to the floor slowly, his foot gently kicking the gun away with a soft ‘clack.’

“Now you,” his calm voice says as he raises his hands, inching closer. Tears stream down Heather’s face now as she shakes her head gently. 

“I have to,” Is her tear-soaked reply as she keeps the barrel pointed at Spencer’s head, her fingers twitching lightly as they move for the trigger. Your shaking voice cuts through the scene, and Spencer is pretty sure it’s the only thing that is stopping him from diving for his gun a few feet from him. 

“Heather, baby,” Your voice betrays you as you speak the pet name, coming off a little too forced, but you continue anyway. “He can help. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. We can be happy, and we can get away. He can help, right?” Your arms relax around your head slowly as you look over at Spencer, who nods silently. 

“I can, but you have got to put your gun down.” 

Heather chokes out a strangled sob as she looks over at you, watching as you smile at her. You know it’s forced, but Heather can only view it as the prettiest thing she’s ever seen—a great parting gift. 

She feels spit thick on her tongue as she evaluates her options: kill Spencer and go to jail. Kill you, and she might not have enough time to kill herself. Killing herself seems like the best plan out of the three, so she holds her gun steady at Spencer as she looks at your now bleeding smile. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Her voice is soft, almost so human that you feel your heart clench in pity before that clenching feeling turns into pure anxiety as you see the movement of her arm. Spencer’s feet aren't quick enough for him to tackle her to the ground as Heather raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger. 

Her body drops to the edge of the bed, sliding down it as you feel blood coat your legs. Your ears are ringing, and your mouth is wide open as you scream. At least you think you’re screaming. You can’t hear much but a pathetic muffle of the sound as the ringing in your ears increases.

Your hands are quick to try and wipe off chunks of what looks to be part of a skull off of your exposed stomach, and you can’t seem to stop staring at Heather’s limp body at the edge of the bed. The image of her mangled head oozing blood has you gagging softly, feeling yourself getting ready to be sick before you feel two hands cup your face. 

You’re screaming or sobbing; you can’t tell anymore as Spencer Reid’s face blocks the view. He keeps your face steady in his hands as you try to read his lips, your breathing heavy as he strokes your hair gently. His voice creeps in through the ringing until you eventually hear the soft repetition of, “I got you, look at me. Just keep looking at me; you’re safe.”

You feel your breathing slow, your arms reaching up to grab him before your eyes roll back as your body slumps against Spencer’s, and everything is engulfed in black.

Tag List: @dollykisses4reid @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

[mooncalf87]

Rosie & Alastor hcs <3 (platonic)

Gossip girlys. They drink tea while spilling the tea.

Burn book. They have a burn book. It is 90% Susan content

Rosie is the only one Alastor likes being called pet names from. He HATES it otherwise. She calls him things like "darling" "my dear (my deer)" "love" "sweetie/sweetheart" and he adores it

Cheek and forehead kisses. They are big on those, its a special way of them showing physical affection in a way that doesn't gross alastor out

Alastor will rant to Rosie about Lucifer for HOURS (rosie is having a hard time deciding whether or not alastor is in love or if he actually just hates the guy)

Cooking besties. Rosie is hellborn and alastor is a sinner, so they teach each other about the special foods of their respective cultures. Rosie loves learning about Alastors mamas Jambalaya.

They would kill for each other

Alastor knows that Hellborns arnt immortal like Sinners are, and he knows that Rosie is going to die someday. He dreads that day with every fiber of his being.

Sleepovers. They sit on Rosie's bed while doing eachothers hair and watching soap opreas.

Alastor owns thousands of souls, but Husk and Nifty are the ones that he talks to/summons the most, which has lead Rosie to getting to know them. They both call Rosie "Auntie Rosie" and she loves them like grandchildren even though husk is the same age as her

Rosie dislikes being alone and is also afraid of the dark, so Alastor made her a little nightlight made out of his magic. She always feels like she is with him due to this

They tell each other things that they wouldn't DARE tell another soul. They know each others deepest fears and biggest wishes. Rosie even knows about Alastors contract with (unknown person)

Snuggling. Rosie is a big cuddle bug and usually drags Alastor into cuddle sessions (he pretends to hate it (he doesnt))

They are book worms and can sit in each other's company for hours, in silence, happily reading. Its one of their favorite past times.

Rosie is the #1 fangirl of Alastors broadcast

Alastor is the model when Rosie is making new clothes (he has been in a dress so many times due to this)

Rosie got a phone once and Alastor found out. They didn't talk for a solid 5 months after that

They rarely argue but when they do. Hooo boy. You better run.

They love to dance together & listen to music

Rosie can spot Alastor out of a huge crowd because she has kinda trained herself to hear his radio static noise that he constantly has

Alastoe can't keep a plant alive for the life of him. Rosie has to help him keep his bedroom Bayou thing alive.

They NEVER step foot in the Vees district of Pentigram City, but they had to cross through it one time. Never again. Never.

Rosie loves the drama that Vox and Alastor are constantly broadcasting across all of PC

I do hc requests!!!

[miniwheat77]

Vanilla. (Detective!Graves x Reader.)

!violence, reader is injured, alcohol, blood, violence, smut, unprotected p in v sex, heed the warnings, you’ve been warned. NO MINORS!

“Graves, there’s a call on line one waiting for you.”

He nods his head as he walks in the door, he hasn’t even clocked in yet and there’s already something waiting for him. “Yeah they’re going to have to wait, I just got a call about a disturbance at the Lions Den.” His partner, Diane says.

“Where Summer is missing from?” He asks. She nods her head. “Alright, let’s go. Tell them I’ll call them back.” He nods to the receptionist.

Phillip Graves lives in a small town. The police station he works at has very few cops which means despite his title as a detective, he’s still going out on calls like this. This one is important though.

The Lions Den is a popular bar/club. It’s got its popularity because it’s within walking distance of the only college in town. It’s been popular for years and years. But recently, it’s become a concern. It was the last place Summer Pennington was ever seen. They’ve been investigating everything since it happened a couple weeks previously but they’ve run out of leads.

Hearing that there’s a disturbance there has Graves’ hair standing up. He hopes it’s nothing bad.

He pulls into the gravel parking lot and hurries out of his car. Both him and Diane making their way inside.

It looks normal. The cracked black marble floor is covered in people. Inebriated and dancing like there’s nothing going on. The lights are flashing and it’s a good 10 degrees hotter inside. He makes his way up to the bar. “Hey, we got a call about a disturbance?” He asks, he’s confused. “Oh! Right. Hold on.” The girl turns her back to him. “Y/N!” She calls.

A girl emerges and he swallows hard at her appearance.

She’s got her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and she’s got a tight black v-neck on. Which appears to be the outfit of choice for the bartenders. She fills it out well, and she’s real pretty. “Hi.” She says. She swallows hard, seemingly distressed but hiding it well. “A regular, he uh. He got mad because I had to cut him off and he hit me with a mug.” She shrugs. Only then does he see the blood beginning to trickle from her hair line.

A beer mug.

A fucking beer mug.

“He went out the back.”

Graves radios to Diane where the suspect went, giving her a description. Turning his attention back to you.

“Do you need me to call anyone? A beer mug is one hell of an object to get hit with.” He sits down at the bar. Seeing her smile. “Ah, it’s not my first time.” You laugh. He can see your eyes are drowsy. “I’ll be alright, thank you though.”

“Hey. While I’m here.” He sits up. “I talked to a couple of bartenders here a few months back about cameras outside, but they said they didn’t have access to them. Do you know who I could talk to about seeing those?” He asks. “Of course, that’s me actually.” You smile. You throw your towel down, making your way around the bar. He follows after you when you push through the crowd, entering a blacked out door in the back. You close it and the music is muffled. He can finally hear himself think. “This is about that girl right?” You ask. He nods his head. “Yeah, the one who went missing from here.” You nod your head, typing away at the computer. “Are you the owner?” He asks.

“Oh.. no. I just manage it.” You smile. “The owners.. they kinda helped me out when I was a teenager. I take care of the bar, they guarantee me a job. I was a troubled teen so they helped me get on my feet.” You explain.

He nods his head. “What day was it she went missing?” You look up at him. The way you look up at him through your lashes has blood pooling in his lower stomach. Your eyes pierce right through him. He clears his throat. “Uh.. April 24th.” He nods. “Someone last seen her around midnight.”

He nods his head. “Alright.”

He sees you digging through footage, pulling up the date he’s said. You open up the footage from that night. You drag the cursor over the little white bar at the bottom and he watches. You move it slow, and he watches the screen.

“There.” He mumbles. He moves in closer to you and you notice the smell of his cologne immediately, body going stiff from his close proximity. He gets eyes on Summer and the both of you watch the night unfold. She’s dancing, seemingly having a normal night until a girl and a guy come in. Summer seems to start trouble with the two, thus getting asked to leave. The three of them leave, going different ways. Summer disappears down the street and he watches her dark form disappear slowly. “So she didn’t go missing from here.” He sighs. “I remember them arguing that night.” You turn to look at him. “She called the guy Aaron. And I know for sure she was going to the college down the street, she’d been in here a couple times wearing the schools clothing.” You explain. “You mind coming down to the station? I’d like to get a statement.” He asks. “Yeah, sure.”

You stand up, following him out of the office. You make sure the bartenders don’t need any help before following him to his police car.

“I’ve got the suspect, he put up a good fight but I’m on my way back to the station with him.” Diane radios to him and he smiles.

—

“You want something to drink sweetheart?” He asks. “Oh.. no. I’m alright.” You smile. You’ve got a pretty smile.

He sits down across from you. A notebook and pen in his hand. As he sits, he can’t help but notice the smell of your perfume. It’s a mix of Vanilla and something he’s not familiar with. The scent invades his senses and he gets stoved up for a minute. He hates that you get him so foggy without even trying.

“Alright. So I’m just gonna ask a few questions and try to get through this as fast as possible. I don’t want to keep you.” He explains.

“So, Summer got into a disagreement and on the footage it seems like you’re the one who intervened, do you remember what it was about?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. I heard Summer getting upset with the two because Summer and the boy had dated previously and I guess she didn’t like seeing him with the girl he was with. His name was Aaron, and I’m pretty sure she said the girls name was Maddie, I’m not entirely sure but I think that’s what I heard.” You explain. He nods his head. “Summer was pretty drunk, started threatening the two so I asked her to leave and the other two left right with her.” He’s listening and writing notes down.

He asks a few more questions but when he’s done, he takes you back to the bar. He even stays behind, having a couple drinks before he went back to his job. It’s the thing about being a small town detective. Nobody can replace you.

He makes small talk with you, finding out that you live in a tiny apartment above the lions den itself which he thinks is cute. But he wants to know more about you.

When he leaves, he leaves his card with you. Letting you know that if you need anything at all, send him a text or give him a call.

———

It’s always you who cleans up at the end of the night. The other bartenders do a sub par job, but you can’t stand the smell of Vomit and Sweat. So almost every night, you’re up late scrubbing the floors. This night though, is different.

It’s just reached two in the morning, the lions den closes at one.

You’re sweeping beneath the tables and that’s when something shiny catches your eye. A silver snake skin handbag. Without thinking, you pick it up and throw it down on the table. Finishing sweeping.

Once you’re happy with the way the floors look, you turn your attention back to the handbag. Lifting it back up. Maybe the contents inside would help you get a name. You unzip it and look inside. There’s a few old cards and receipts. You find a drivers license, pulling it out. Chills shoot down your spine when you see her photo. The name on the ID reads ‘Summer Pennington’

It wouldn’t seem so chilling, but since you lived just above the bar and cleaned these floors every single night.

Someone had to have placed it there.

You make sure the door is locked before digging your phone out of your pocket, making your way into the office where you had placed his card.

You lift it up, typing the numbers into the keypad on your phone and ringing him.

You only hope he’ll pick up this late.

“Hello?”

His voice is hoarse and he’s got a morning voice going. If the situation weren’t so dire, you’d probably find it somewhat attractive.

“Sorry to bother you so late detective..” you breathe. “But I’ve just found Summers handbag. And it wasn’t here last night.” He perks up when he hears it. “Alright. Lions den?” He asks. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in 5 sweetheart.”

The pet name leaves his lips before he can stop himself and he hangs up before he embarrasses himself any further. He gets out of his bed and throws on a pair of jeans. He’d usually dress up but since it’s so late, he doesn’t think much of it. He grabs his keys off of the table by his door and makes his way out to his car. The cold air nips at his skin, he should’ve put on a jacket. He climbs into his car, starting it and speeding out of the driveway to get to the Lions Den. Theres no more time to waste.

He speeds the entire way there, luckily it’s not too far from his house. He pulls into the parking lot and parks his car right in front of the doors, climbing out of his car. He walks right inside. Seeing you cleaning behind the bar. “Hey. It���s right there. I put everything back and left it alone.” You breathe. “Are you sure it hasn’t been here this whole time?” He asks. You shake your head. “No, I scrub these floors almost every night, I would’ve seen it.” He nods his head. He makes his way over to the purse, thinking of who he should call this late. “If someone put it there, it had to have been seen on the cameras right?” He asks. You nod your head. You make your way around the bar, walking toward the office in the back. He follows right behind you. You sit down at the desk, typing away at the computer. He waits impatiently.

Once you’ve got the footage pulled up, you’re both watching the screen like hawks. Eyeballing the table where you found her handbag.

You see nothing after a few minutes, but than a gleam catches your eye.

“It’s there.” You mumble, pulling the tab back over the white line.

You watch a man enter the doors and make his way right to the table. Sitting down there for just a second before standing up and making his way to the bar. Graves sees his face and scoffs. “Aaron.”

“Aaron put it there.”

He shakes his head. “Alright. I’m going to take her handbag and head the station first thing in the morning. You make sure to lock up after me alright?” He looks at you. Seeing you nod your head.

You’ve got a bare face. All of your makeup is washed off and your hair is tied back. You’ve got more comfortable clothes on as well. He has to tear his eyes away from you. Saying goodbye as he leaves out the door. He knows there isn’t much he can do right now, not until he has Diane with him. But he can at least scope out where Aaron lives. He unlocks his car and climbs inside. Waiting a second to make sure you lock yourself inside the building. He takes a deep breath, lifting up his laptop and typing in Aaron’s in the police database.

Unfortunately the list is long, for such a small town there’s a lot of Aaron’s who commit crimes.

It takes him a few minutes of scrolling before he comes across a photo of Aaron and figures out he got arrested a few weeks back for domestic abuse.

The chilling part?

The girl was Summer.

How did they not know this when she went missing?

He shakes his head. Digging further and further in until he figures out his last known address and he decides to scope the place out for the night. Making sure to stop by the 24 hour coffee shop. Thank god for Coffee.

He parks on the street a couple houses down, recognizing the vehicle out front. He seen it at the Lions den the other night.

He doesn’t see anything for a couple hours and gets bored. Deciding to search more people through the database. The only way they’ll appear is if they’ve been arrested and fingerprinted.

He briefly remembers you saying you used to be a troubled teen, so he types in your name. Surprised when you appear high up on the list. Your mugshot is clearly a photo of you while you’re inebriated. He can tell by the sly smile and bloodshot eyes. He sees that you’ve been arrested for couple of small things. Public intoxication, probation violations, a couple from fighting. He laughs to himself. You seem so well put together for someone who’s got such a bad track record. But he can tell these charges are old. It’s been quite some time since your last arrest.

Once six am rolls around, he’s dialing Diane first thing and getting a warrant for Aaron’s house.

It’s late afternoon when they finally have it, and they load up the squad car. Graves drives and Diane is in the passenger seat. They don’t know how this is going to go, so they prepare for the worst. Wearing vests and planning to be as careful as possible. Graves pulls right into the driveway and they both move quickly. Getting out of the car and making their way up to the front door. Graves knocks normally, and is surprised when Aaron opens the door. “What the hell?” He gasps. Raising his hands up immediately. “Keep your hands where I can see them Aaron. Don’t do anything crazy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Summer has been missing for the last couple months. Do you know anything about that?” He asks, moving to handcuff Aaron. “What? Of course not!”

“Than why were you at the Lions Den last night? Hm? We have you on video staging her handbag in there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Diane. Load him up, I’m going to look around.”

Diane nods her head. Graves keeps his gun drawn, just in case there’s any more people he needs to look out for. He makes his way through the entire house and it’s clean, but he discovers that there’s a basement.

He opens up the door, and it’s pitch black down there. He makes his way down the stairs, flicking on a light switch when he sees one. What he sees inside has his heart falling into his stomach. He can see a woman slumped over, she’s handcuffed to a pipe. He rushes over to her, checking to see if she has a pulse. She shrinks away from his touch and he inhales a deep breath, thank god. He tilts her head to get a good look at her and realizes that it’s Summer.

He’s found her.

He calls for backup immediately and Diane takes Aaron down to the station. He’s not getting out of this one.

“Hey. It’s alright.”

Summer finally starts to stir, she’s clearly drugged.

“I’m detective Phillip Graves, I’m here to get you out of here.” He breathes. He unlocks the handcuffs and lifts her up. He has to get her out.

———

It takes a few days for everything to settle.

Summer is in the hospital recovering, Aaron is locked up tight behind bars.

Graves hasn’t spoken to you, but he figures he will now.

The case is sure to hit the news anytime now, it’s alright if you’re the first to find out.

“Hey. That cute detective is out at the bar asking for you.” Another bartender comes into the office. You laugh. “You can send him back here.” You roll your eyes. She disappears from the doorway and a moment later, he’s knocking gently at the frame. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi. Everything okay?” You ask. “Yeah, yeah. Everything is great.” He closes the door. “Actually wanted to come let you know that we found Summer.”

“Seriously?” You look up at him. “Yeah. She’s alive, just recovering.”

“That’s.. wow. That’s awesome.” You breathe. “How did you find her?”

“Got a warrant for Aaron’s house, he had her locked up in his basement.”

“Jesus Christ, seriously? What a psycho!” You breathe. “Yeah. But he’s off the streets. He’s going to prison for a while and she’s recovering.”

You smile. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, and I wanted to come say thanks. Your cameras and cooperation have been the sole reason we were able to solve this.”

“Well. If you want to stay for a drink, we close in about 10 minutes.” You smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“I was going to come sooner but I just got off work.” He laughs. “Been doing paperwork in my office.”

“Boy I felt that one.” You laugh, slapping a hand down onto the stack of paperwork you’ve got sitting on the desk.

The both of you make small talk for a while, until the bar officially closes and all of the employees have left. Not before giving you grief about leaving you alone with a man of course. Lots of winks as they walked out the door. You made sure to lock it after them. You pour him a drink, and make small talk with him while you clean. When you finish, you stand on the other side of the bar and he takes in your appearance. Apron and that black v-neck you usually wore.

“You know.. it really pissed me off the first time I came in here. Hearing that guy hit you with a fucking beer mug.”

You laugh, looking down. “Yeah.. I wasn’t too happy when he hit me with it, trust me.” You laugh. He smiles. “Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t too kind to him when we brought him in.” You smile. “Do you have anything at all to protect yourself in here?” You smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You laugh.

“I would yeah.”

You smile, reaching down just beneath you, raising up the little cubby. You can feel the cool metal on your hand, raising it up and setting it on top of the bar. Making sure the barrel is pointed away from him. “Damn.” He laughs. “All my bartenders are trained to use it. Nobody knows it’s back here.” You pull it back. “Better stay that way.” You narrow your eyes at him, seeing him smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I have another in my apartment upstairs. But.. that stays up there just in case.”

He laughs.

“You know. You’re a real pretty girl.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, looking down. “For a heathen.”

You look up at him, through your eyelashes. “I don’t think you know the half of it, Detective Graves.”

“I think your file told me everything I needed to know about you.” He brings the glass of whiskey up to his lips. “You looked me up?” You laugh. “Maybe. Hey, as far as I was concerned you were a suspect.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like excuses. If you wanted to know so bad you could’ve asked.” You lean over the bar. His eyes flicker to your chest for just a second. You don’t miss it.

“Must be pretty interested if you’re looking me up.” You make your way around the bar, going to sit next to him but he grasps your arm. He slides off of the bar stool. “Yeah. Maybe I am.” He laughs. He pins you between him and the bar, the wood digging into your back. “But you don’t seem to have much of a problem with that. Don’t see you trying to get away.”

You smile, eyes moving to his lips and back to his eyes. “Didn’t want to.”

“You’re bold.” He laughs. Sliding his hand onto your hip, leaning in. “So you won’t mind if I…” he pushes your hair behind your ear. “Just kiss me.” You roll your eyes, grasping his tie. You pull him into you and his lips are finally on yours. He moves both of his hands to rest at your hips as he kisses you, pulling you into him more. He glides his hand lower on your hips and pulls you into him, his front pressed firmly up against yours. He’s a good kisser.

He glides his tongue over your lip, he wants more.

You pull his bottom lip between your teeth and tug gently, feeling him growing hard against you. You rut your thigh into his growing erection and he groans into your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” He breathes. You bite your own lip, nodding your head. “I can take you up to my apartment. Come on.” You breathe. You grasp his hand, leading him to the back of the bar and up the stairs to your apartment door. You unlock it, stepping inside. He follows in behind you, smiling. It’s a lot nicer than he expected it to be, for being above a dive bar anyways. You keep it nice inside. He chooses to say nothing, as soon as he closes the door he’s pouncing on you again. He’s got his lips on yours and he’s lifting you up, you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking toward the hallway where he assumes your bedroom is, guessing correctly. He nudges the first door open with his foot and sees it’s your bedroom and it’s just as well kept. Your bed is made and it’s spotless inside, too bad he’s gonna wreck the bed.

He drops you onto your bed, forcing your legs apart and moving himself between them, grasping the bottom of your shirt and helping you pull it over your head.

His tugs his off immediately after, reaching for his belt.

You push your own pants down your legs, kicking them off. He exposes himself, his pants still sitting at his mid thigh. He moves up onto the bed more, hovering over you. “You look good like this.” He breathes. “Gonna look even better when I’m done with you.” He smirks, lining himself up with your entrance.

You gasp as he slides into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. He laughs at the gasp you let out at the intrusion. “Fuck.. you’re tight baby.” He hisses. He raises your thighs up slightly, getting a better angle to reach deeper inside of you. You cry out as he slides right into your spongy spot. Your thighs start to shake. “F-fuck.” You shiver. “You’re really good at this.” You whine out. He can’t help but laugh. “You’ve never had good experiences have you?”

You look up at him, crimson creeping up your cheeks. “No.” You shake your head. You’re still breathing heavier than you were before, which tells him you’re getting overwhelmed which is exactly what he wants. It’s been a while for Phillip but that means nothing. He’ll never forget how to please a woman, he knows exactly what to do. He can read you, and tell what you’re going to like. He doesn’t have all that much experience either but he doesn’t forget. He slides out of you, bringing your thigh over the other until you’re slightly on your side. He slides back into you, giving him a good angle for better access to that spot inside of you, he knows you wont last long like this.

He rests his chest into your back, his breath warm over your ear. “Nothing wrong with that sweetheart.” He chuckles. Chills rise on your skin from him talking right next to your ear. “But I’m gonna change that for you, so just try to relax.” He’s rutting his hips into you and you’re panting slightly. Waiting.

He draws his hips back and thrusts into you, he laughs when your lips part in surprise. He can still smell your vanilla perfume on you. Eyes rolling back as he feels that knot forming in his stomach. “You feel so fucking good baby, so good.” He grits his teeth, eyes screwed shut at he keeps rutting into you, hips moving with yours perfectly. Your thighs shiver, moans flowing from your lips like a river. He’s got you right where he wants you. You’re right on the brink, the warmth building more and more with each draw of his hips. You take in a jagged breath and with one more thrust into that spot inside of you, the tightness unravels, warmth spreading through you. You throb around him as you reach your high, crying out. You flinch away from him, sweet spot abused and sensitive from his perfect thrusts.

He grasps your leg, pulling you back into the missionary position you were in before.

He hisses, clutching your hips hard and taking a couple of extra hard thrusts. He slides out of you just as he reaches the brink. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pumps quickly until he’s coating you in his cum. The warm thick ropes have you flinching slightly. Coating your skin on your lower stomach. He laughs once he’s come down from his high. “Fuck.. didn’t expect this tonight.” He sighs. He moves himself until he’s lying next to you.

You’re quiet still. He notices immediately, turning to look at you. Your eyes are slightly wider than before, pupils still blown out. “Hey, you alright?” He tilts your chin to look at him. “Uh- yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” You shake yourself out of the daze he’s put you in. “You sure?” He laughs. “Yeah- I’ve just never… been touched like that before.” You laugh. “What, never cum during sex?” He jokes. “No.”

He pauses. “Really?”

You bite your lip, nervously nodding your head.

“Ah well. Doesn’t matter now cause I’m here.” He laughs. “Was I too rough?” He props his head up onto his hand, his elbow resting on the bed. “No, not at all.” You breathe.

“I don’t usually do this, how about you let me take you on a proper date?” He smiles. You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you’d ask that after this.” You giggle. Seeing his lips rise into a smile. “Course not. You’re a pretty girl, deserve nice things.” He leans into you, kissing your lips once more.

He stands up, asking where to find a towel to clean you up.

When he’s helped you clean up and you’ve returned your clothes to where they belong, you decide to ask.

“Do you think Summer will be okay?” You ask.

He sighs. “I think she’ll have some trauma from all of this, but I think she’ll be okay. Yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m glad you found her. I was so worried. I had a brand new schedule in the works just in case it was some kind of freak just kidnapping girls.” You sigh. “Really?” He asks. “Yeah, figured if we closed a little earlier the college girls would get home sooner and my girls could get out of here.” He smiles. “You’re a good girl you know that?” He smiles.

“I’m a troubled girl.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be good. Without you we never would’ve found out what happened to Summer. You have to give yourself some more credit here, you’re a smart girl.” He laughs. “I knew I liked you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He smirks. Seeing your roll your eyes.

“Yeah well, I think you got what you wanted, Detective Graves.”

“Got what I wanted and more, sweetheart.”

[cipheramnesia]

Part 2: The Lonely Extermination of Athena Six

Awhile after Dr. Stevenson left, and after Dr. White's visits were rarely more often than once or twice in a month, Athena began to notice the iron cage. It grew very slowly between the earth and the sky, deep shadow bars tinting narrow strips of the world. The first ones she saw were in the sky, on a day where she could feel the sun inside her room. She felt the slim bands connect to each other overhead.

The small transistor radio at the nurse station had a square of dark bands around it. Dark lines grew from light fixtures and intercom speakers. While she sat with an orderly doing a geometry workbook that Dr. White was supposed to supervise, Athena noticed dark lines on the overhead fluorescent lights. The orderly said it was okay for her to go back to her room and read, so she sat at her desk to re-read a set of old fantasy novels. They were about a prince who was always beset by tragedy and sickness. Now matter how much good he tried to accomplish, he always hurt someone important. In some of the stories he traveled to other versions of his story and met happier versions of himself, or sometimes sadder versions, but mostly happier. Athena thought there were probably happier versions of herself somewhere.

The dark bands grew and crossed and multiplied. The more of the bands she could see, the harder it became for her to find the dancing light. She wasn't supposed to make the light dance anymore since Dr. Stevenson's accident, and the times the orderlies caught her, they stuck a needle in her and she fell asleep right away. That was also okay, but the lights made her happy, so she played with tiny sparks against her wall, too tiny for the camera in her room to see. Except with the dark bands the lights were harder to coax put and she was usually exhausted after trying.

Eventually the grid of darkness covered the sky in its iron cage. She only sometimes saw little dark smears from the radio or people's eyes sometimes. No one else noticed the grid, but she could tell because her thread was less bright and the omnipresent iron bars were visible through the walls and ceiling. She wished she could take them down and so she practiced more and more to control her lights. They were still waiting for her, only a little more out of reach, but she got stronger and reached further every day.

A little while after the grid was in place, Dr. White visited her. He was always very nice, but Athena noticed he didn't listen very much to what she talked about. He seemed to care more about if the orderlies and nurses liked him, but she could tell they didn't anyway. He opened up a box and laid two flat rectangles of woven metal on the table, then pulled his hands away quickly. Athena noticed he always did that.

"Athena, for the next few weeks we're going to try some new games and I think you'll like them very much." He gestured at the smaller, darker screen. "Closers call this a spark buffer, do you know about them?" He kept his arms close to his body, she shook her head for no. "It's okay, not a lot of people do." He gestured at the larger screen, with shiny metal weaving, and some kind of stone under it. "This is possibly a new prototype, and I hope you can help me make sure it works right."

Athena looked blank. "I don't know how... how it works."

"Don't worry," he laughed the fake laugh a little. "All I need is for you to make the dancing lights, and make them touch the buffer."

"The cage makes it hard," she said. "Can we go somewhere out of the cage?"

"Cage? What... I'm not sure what you mean."

Athena just shook her head and Dr. White slotted the new buffer into a small box. He stood up and took several steps back, suggesting Athena begin, so she did.

It was harder than ever before but eventually a flicker of light danced in her palm for an instant. Then there came a spark out of the buffer like a mosquitos into a bug zapper, and her light blinked out. She jerked back her hands as well, feeling a sharp stab of pain at her fingertips.

Dr. White wrote notes and she sucked her fingertips because they hurt. He said "Okay, let's repeat it and then try the other one."

Athena wished Dr. White would go away again.