#i have been bouncing from conference to conference across the US

[pickingupmymercedes]

He always rises - Lewis Hamilton

Happy Lewis for the win here.

request: " idk if you saw lewis laying down on the sofa in the post race press conference, but all i could think about is him knocking out immediately back at the hotel😂 With this prompt: “snuggle with me” - @goldenroutledge

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It was a blurb request from our 500 Celebration, but it ran from me. It's totally self-indulgent. If Lewis is happy we're happy, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The air crackled with a different kind of electricity this time around in the finishing stages of the Spanish Grand Prix. The dejection that had clung to Lewis like a second skin all season seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a genuine, unrestrained smile that stretched from ear to ear.

A podium finish, his first of the season, might not have been the win he was used to fighting for, but in the context of their current struggles, it felt like a monumental victory.

As Lewis climbed out of his car and removed his helmet, he heard the crowd erupting in cheers. He gave some of his team a brief celebratory hug before his eyes locked onto Y/N standing by corner of the gates of parc ferme.

He made his way over to her, a triumphant grin lighting up his face. “You were amazing out there!” Y/N beamed, her eyes sparkling with pride. Lewis leaned in and gave her a quick hug, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

He breezed through the post-race interviews; the guardedness of the recent races replaced by a playful banter with the reporters, jokes with Verstappen and Norris during the press conference, and selfies afterwards.

The celebratory mood followed him back to the garage. It was a welcome change from the frustration and disappointment that had plagued the first half of his final season with Mercedes. High fives were exchanged, engineers bouncing on the spot with unbridled joy. Relief washed over that whole side of the garage.

Y/n were by the hospitality area, her laughter mingling with the animated chatter of other Mercedes personnel. The sight of her, so carefree and happy amidst the team's, his team, was pure joy to him.

He excused himself from his press secretary for a few moments, his long strides eating up the distance between them in seconds, eager for a private moment amidst the chaos.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said softly, pulling her into a secluded corner just as he kissed her deeply, pouring all the relief and joy he felt into that kiss. Y/N smiled against his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck.

He cupped her face in his hands, his smile mirroring the one that had been plastered across her face all afternoon. That kiss had been different. It wasn't just a celebratory peck; it was a culmination of all the stress, the frustration, the unwavering belief that had finally been validated. It spoke of a shared burden, a weight finally off their shoulders.

"You look radiant," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

"And you," she countered, tracing a finger down his cheek "look like a kid that has been given way too many sweets."

He chuckled, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe a little. I just feel… relieved."

"I know, babe. We all know." she squeezed his hand. " Now, go. They’re waiting for you. I’ll head back to the hotel and wait there."

He lingered for a moment longer, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he pulled away. "Debrief. Then straight to the hotel. I’ll see you in a bit." Y/n nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

When he finally made it back to the hotel, he was physically and mentally drained, and the room was a welcome refuge. the sight that greeted him made his heart swell. Y/N was curled up on the bed, wearing one of his oversized hoodies, looking cozy and content.

“Hey, you,” she greeted him with a warm smile. “You look exhausted. Come snuggle with me.”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked twice. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto her arms in the bed, resting his head on her chest, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his skin. "Looking mighty comfy in my clothes, there, love," he teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just borrowing what's mine anyway" she retorted, a playful glint in her eyes. "Besides, it smells like you." Lewis couldn't help but chuckle.

"How are you feeling, really?" Y/n asked softly after a few moments of silence, her fingers gently stroking his hair.

Lewis sighed, closing his eyes as he savored the comfort of her presence. "Like the kind of relief I felt when you finally said yes to that twentieth date I asked you on."

Y/n swatted him playfully on the arm. "It was more like 10” laughing with him before continuing. “But seriously, Lewis."

He nuzzled closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Like I knew I'd given it my all, every lap, every strategy meeting. And finally, finally, it’s paying off. It feels… good. It feels so damn good."

She hummed in agreement, running her fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. She knew how much this podium meant to him; how hard he had worked for it. “I’m so proud of you” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

They talked for a while, about anything and everything, the sound of her voice a soothing lullaby to his tired mind. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him. Y/N continued to stroke his hair, her touch soothing and gentle. “Get some rest, love,” she murmured. “You’ve earned it.” Lewis nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.

The gentle rise and fall of Y/n’s chest a lullaby against his ear and he drifted off to sleep as she watched him sleep, committing every detail of his face to memory – the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, the slight furrow in his brow that appeared when he was concentrating, the way his lips twitched even in sleep. He looked peaceful, content.

Such a contrast to the man who had carried the weight of the team's struggles on his shoulders for the past years.

The tranquility was shattered with a sharp trill of Lewis' phone. He stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips. Y/n reached over and silenced the call, earning a mumbled "thank you" from him before he tried to drift back to sleep. However, the respite was short-lived. The phone buzzed again, more insistently this time.

Seeing the name flashing on the screen again, Y/n gently nudged him awake, knowing how important his family was to him. "It's your dad”

He cracked open one eye, a playful glint returning. "Spoiling my nap, aren't you?"

She lightly ran her nails in his arms with a smile to really wake him up. "Just making sure you don't miss his call."

He chuckled; the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Alright, alright. Put it on speaker." You reached for the phone and hit accept, setting it on his abdomen

"Lewis?" Anthony's voice boomed through the speaker.

"Hey, dad" Lewis replied, his voice still laced with sleep but a genuine warmth evident.

"Saw the race! You looked brilliant, son. That podium finish, about time, eh?"

Lewis' smile widened. "Yeah, feels good, Dad. Finally."

On the other end of the line, Anthony chuckled. "Damn straight. You know, I always knew you'd turn it around, even when things were looking a bit rough. Never doubted you for a second."

Lewis could practically hear the pride in his father's voice. "Means a lot to hear that from you, dad."

Y/n continued massaging the root of his braids as he spoke, her fingers expertly navigating his skin. The rhythmic motion lulled him further, but he made sure to keep the conversation going. They talked about the race, the team's struggles, the upcoming schedule. All the while, she listened, a silent observer in their father-son bond

Finally, after a good ten minutes of conversation, Lewis ended the call. He turned to Y/n, a grateful smile on his face. "Thanks for making me take that."

"Yep" she replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "He's happy, isn't he?"

"Yeah" Lewis confirmed, pulling her closer. "Proud as punch."

He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of her touch and the afterglow of the conversation.  After a few moments, Lewis spoke again, his voice a soft murmur. “Thank you for being here for me, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing with love. “You don’t have to thank me, Lewis. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lewis closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. “I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he whispered. Y/N leaned down and kissed his forehead again. “And I’m the luckiest woman,” she replied softly. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll wake you later for some food, okay?!”

He hummed in agreement, a content sigh escaping his lips. Silence settled over the room again, a was a comfortable quiet, filled with a sense of peace as he drifted off to sleep once more, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Y/n continued massaging his braids, her fingers lingering on the intricate patterns.

As the last rays of sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a soft golden glow, she kept on watching him sleep. A sense of immense pride welled up within her. She’d borne witness to the challenges this season had thrown at him. She'd seen him at his most frustrated, his most discouraged. Yet, he'd persevered, because that was him, that was the Lewis that had insisted on asking her out until she finally said yes, the Lewis she had fallen in love.

He always rises, no matter what.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[lnlightning81]

So Sorry [LS2]

Part two to Reunited

Summary: Logan and Oscar accidentally spill the secret. Logan thinks into your future together.

Pairring/s: Logan Sargeant x reader, Logan Sargreant x Oscar Piastri (platonic), Alex Albon x reader (platonic), Lily Muni He x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Logan Sargeant Masterlist

Coming Soon

Tag List

Having followed Logan around the world for a little while, Logan was feeling more comfortable travelling because you and Aurora were with him. He was performing better than expected with the equipment that he had been given.

Logan was sitting in his drivers room on the floor with Aurora sitting in front of him as he played with her on her little play mat. This was the last race before the summer break where Logan was going to go back to London but start looking for a family house so you could all stay there. 

Auroras little giggles filled his driver's room as there was a knock on the door, and Oscar walked in with a smile 

“There’s my girl” He smiled, sitting on the floor next to Logan. Rolling your eyes while taking a picture of them. Logan still hadn’t told the world about you or Aurora, not that you minded because you got to keep your privacy and Aurora's, although you knew it would come soon enough. 

However, you hadn’t expected some camera’s to overhear him and Oscar during the press conference you were currently sitting watching. 

“What are you planning on getting Y/N?” Oscar asked both with the microphones on their laps as they spoke to each other 

“I’m not sure. She doesn’t know what she wants either” He shrugged, and Oscar groaned 

“What am I meant to buy her then? Maybe like a canvas of you, her and Aurora?” He asked, and Logan nodded 

“I guess that’s an option. I was thinking of a little family holiday” Logan answered

“Ohh that’s a good idea. Maybe I could get her a puppy?” Oscar joked, and Logan laughed 

“She wants one, but with Aurora still not being that old, it makes it hard. Especially because she’s not at uni anymore, and she’s following me around the world” He chuckled, and Oscar joined in. The interviewer called on Logan to answer a question about the car

Back in Logan’s driving room you were attempting to get Aurora to have a nap although she had grown into the habit of getting fed from you and cuddling Logan until she fell asleep so she got the best of both parents. Gently bouncing around Logan’s drivers room as you hoped that his interview was almost over 

“Come on baby girl please go to sleep” You whispered with a sigh as her cries picked up attempting to think about the next best thing to Logan you opened his driver room door and took the two steps across the corridor knocking on Alex’s door. 

Alex pulled the door open with a smile. Lily sat on his couch, smiling over 

“Y/N is everything okay?” Alex asked as you shook your head

“Aurora’s got in the habit of Logan holding her until she gets to sleep, and he’s doing the interviews. So is Oscar. You’re the next best thing. Will you hold her?” You asked, biting your lip, hoping that he’d be okay with the request

“Baby cuddles? Who’d ever say no to that?” He asked carefully, taking her from your arms.

“How does Logan normally hold her?” He asked, and you gently moved her within his arms so she was now being held in the normal sleeping position. 

“Come take a seat lovely” Lily smiled, tapping the space next to her on Alex’s couch. You looked to Alex to ensure it was okay. Alex nodded with a smile. You didn’t want to intrude on his personal space when you’d already asked him to hold your child. 

Sitting down next to Lily as she took pictures of Alex 

“I want one” She whined, and you laughed 

“Feel free to take mine for a couple of days. You’ll change your mind instantly” You chuckled 

“Oh but she’s so cute. She could never do any wrong” You smiled 

“She looks so much like Logan as a baby, which makes me a little sad because Logan used to be exactly like her then coming into F1. It changed him. This team has changed him and everytime I see James I want to punch him because I miss the old Logan and deep down I know he’s still there but the way James is treating him makes the old him hide” You sighed and both Lily and Alex nodded 

“I agree, and even if I bring it up in meetings, then I get shot down. I don’t understand why they’re treating him like this. If they didn’t want him for the season, then they shouldn’t have signed him again” Alex sighed as you watched Aurora’s eyes flutter shut in Alex’s arms. Lily wrapped her arm around your shoulder, gently rubbing your arm to comfort you. 

“He’ll find his team Y/N. He’s still got years ahead of him, and maybe this break is what you need as a family” She smiled, and you nodded. There was a knock on the door as Logan peaked his head around the door 

“Alex. You seen” He paused mid sentence as he spotted you 

“Found you” He smiled, walking into the room. 

“Hey. Aurora wouldn’t sleep because you or Oscar weren’t there, so I came to the next best place” Logan leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips with a smile you looked up at him 

“So we’re trending on twitter” You pressed your lips together as his eyes widened 

“What? How?” He asked 

“Your microphones picked up  your conversation with Oscar. I would very much like a family holiday thanks” You hummed as he stood back up 

“Shit babe. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise the microphones were that sensitive even that far away. Shit. I’m so sorry, babe. What can I do to make it up to you? I’m so sorry” He rambled, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. Standing up, you walked over to him. 

His arms pulled you into his chest as he sighed, still repeating that he was sorry as he whispered into your ear. 

“How can you make it up to me?” You teased pretending to think about it 

“Apart from that holiday you mentioned. Maybe a dog?” You teased, and he shook his head 

“We’re not getting a dog. I’m sorry. I know you want one, but we don’t have the time or space” He sighed, and you nodded 

“I know. I’m just teasing you, love. I don’t mind. I’m kinda glad no one knows everything, but it’s still out in the world” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“Yeah that makes sense” He smiled, taking Aurora from Alex. 

“I’m gonna take my girls back to my room” You smiled, thanking Alex before walking back to Logan’s room with him. Sitting on the couch, you pulled your legs up to your chest, watching Logan with a wide smile 

“So obviously we’re getting married during this break. However, I was thinking about our future. Like very far into the future” You nodded, listening to him

“I want another child. Maybe within the next year or so. Aurora will be one very soon. We’ll be married, and at least if I don’t continue in F1, then I’ve got a family there. My second dream that’s kinda more real at the moment”  He explained, and you nodded 

“I think having another baby is a brilliant idea, although maybe two years? I’m still kinda recovering from having Aurora” You hummed, and he nodded 

“That sounds good to me” He smiled, pressing your lips together.

Tag List

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

@ahgase99

@velocesainz

@talksoprettyjjx

@kat-s2

@yllomhej

@scarletwidow3000

@jasons-little-princess

@tellybearryyyy

@zabwlky1999

@xxx-betty

@callsignwidow

[nats-firefly]

favorite crime

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: she wanted to sign the accords, you didn’t, and you didn’t see another way out

warnings: angst, some swearing

a/n: i know i originally said no pt 2 but i'm reconsidering (the reason i'm reposting is because i had an idea for a pt 2)

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 1.5k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” She gripped your arm as you walked down the long hallway. “Try not to break anything while we fix this.”

She threw you a hard look and you turned your body to Steve, looking down and playing with the silver ring around your ring finger. Your heard the people around you exchanging remarks, but you couldn’t take your mind off the way Natasha looked at you.

You looked back down at the simple silver ring on your finger, thinking back to when Natasha gave it to you. 

“It’s more discreet, so people know you’re taken even when you’re working.” 

You thought it was adorable and it gave you something to fidget with on long trips during missions, and it always brought you comfort when you were away. But now it just felt like a weight dragging your body down. Steve bumped your arm, making you look up at his sympathetic smile.

“She’ll come around,” He said. You bit the inside of your lip, turning your attention back down to your hands. You and Natasha hadn’t been able to have a conversation without fighting ever since the accords were brought up. You didn’t want to sign it, she did.

The accords weaved themselves into every conversation you tried having. And you ended up passive aggressively yelling at each other every time before one of you hurt the other’s feelings, the only civil conversation you’d had ended in you lying through your teeth.

“I’m not gonna make you sign it,” She chuckled, running her hands through your hair when you were lying in bed before going to sleep. “But if you don’t sign it, what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll retire,” You said, she scoffed and you looked up at her. You didn’t want to lie, but every other time they were brought up, the two of you ended up in a fight. As much as you didn’t want to. Part of you thinks it’s because you knew they were the start of the end. “What?”

“Really?” You turned on your stomach, leaning up on your elbows and looking at her face, your eyes moving over her lips, her delicate nose, then the arch of her eyebrow. She cupped your cheek, tilting her head and letting a soft smile appear on her face. 

“Nat, we’re getting married,” You twirled the diamond ring on your finger, something you had gotten used to doing ever since she put it on your finger. You finally looked into her eyes. “It’s probably time for one of us to start settling down.”

You were pulled from your thoughts as you started being ushered into a glass office, but before you reached the door, your arm was pulled back by Natasha who led you to a different office, one with more privacy and only one glass wall.

“I told you not to do this,” She said leaning both her hands on the table as you sat on the swivel chair across from her, resting your hands on the table and slouching on the chair. You avoided her eyes as you continued to spin the ring on your finger, you legs starting to bounce up and down. She sighed, trying to control her voice. “Not even a day after the accor-”

“You knew I was never gonna sign th-”

“This isn’t about signing the accords,” She interrupted you, her voice harsh and cold. “It’s about letting things cool down for a couple of days.”

“I wasn’t the one who bombed the conference,” You said, your tone mirroring hers as you sat up and looked her in the eyes.

“No, you were just the person helping him get away with it.”

“It wasn’t him,” You said as she sighed turning to the glass wall, making sure no one was paying attention. “And if you listened to me for one goddamn second, you would know that.”

“And if you hadn’t committed an international crime, maybe I would.”

“Look who’s talking,” You scoffed, looking back down at your hand, your attention returning to the ring on your finger. “As if you haven’t committed several crimes.”

“I never said I hadn’t,” Her fingers rubbed her temples as she pulled a chair up to the table across from you. “But I’ve changed since then, I know better now.”

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it,” You said, refusing to look away from her. Her eyes were locked onto yours. You felt the knot rise up in your throat, feeling your chest tighten with her harsh look on you.  

“Look what we became,” You mumbled out voice breaking and running your hands through your hair. Natasha took a deep breath, looking through the glass wall to see if anyone was looking and taking the time away from your eyes to wipe the tear that had escaped. You sat back, fumbling with the ring on your finger which made another wave of dread rip through you. You loved Natasha and it felt like your heart was being torn out of your chest by letting this get between the two of you.

“Is this what it’s gonna be from now on? Walking on eggshells all the time? And what happens if I do something, are you gonna arrest me?”

“No, I’m not gonna arrest you-” 

“Then what the hell is this?” You mumbled to yourself, but made her pause her sentence, giving you a sharp look. 

“Someone will. And this is an office, Y/N, it’s a hell of a lot better than a cell,” Her eyes were cold and her tone was harsh, it tightened the knot in your throat and you had to swallow hard to keep yourself from breaking apart in front of her. “And what if I’m not there to clean up the mess you make?”

“You’re the one that signed those accords-“

“You’re the one that said you were gonna retire.”

“Then I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” You raised your voice, trying to keep it from breaking. She fought back the tears threatening her composure, it broke your heart. She probably knew you better than you knew yourself.

She was silent as you returned to playing with the ring on your finger, refusing to look at her. Her eyes however, locked back onto on you.

“Where do we go from here?” Her voice was controlled, her eyes also trained on the way you started taking your engagement ring on and off as you were deep in thought.

“You tell me, Natasha,” You looked back up at her, her green eyes burning holes into your skin.

“I want you to sign the accords,” You rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the chair and looking at the wall.  “Please, for me.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I know when SHIELD fell, you took a hit-”

“This isn’t about SHIELD.”

“But it is,” She sighed an exasperated sigh as you looked into her eyes.

“I don’t want to be someone you resent,” She said, your eyes making their way back to looking at her. “I already signed the accords, if you signed it, it would solve the problem.”

“You made that decision on your own Natasha,” You said, barely above your breath but loud enough for Natasha to hear. She stopped herself, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It used to be different between us, it used to be ‘if you were going down, I’m going down with you,’ but now-”

“It’s still like that,” She said, but you suddenly stood off your chair.

“No it’s not,” You raised you voice again. “Ever since you decided to sign the accords, it turned into you against me. I’m not gonna stop, Nat, am I just gonna be a criminal to you now?”

She was silent, and when you blinked, tears escaped out of the corners of your eyes. “There’s only one way to solve this problem now.”

You didn’t want her to have to watch over you for the rest of your lives. You didn’t want to have to keep things from her, and you didn’t want her not to trust you. You were able to read her like the back of your hand just a few days ago and now she felt like a stranger.

“What are you saying?” She asked, hoping you didn’t mean what she thought you did. “Are you gonna sign the accords?”

Your lip quivered as you swallowed the knot in your throat and rolled the thin silver band across the table towards her. The rolling sound of metal on wood echoing around the room. Your vision blurred and you flinched when she slammed her hand onto the ring and dragged it off the table.

Her face hardened and her jaw squared. She walked out of the room as you fell back into your chair, looking up at the ceiling and trying to keep your tears at bay. 

Natasha clutched your ring as she made her way back to the main room, her eyes focusing on Bucky’s video feed, but the sound being drowned out by the ringing in her ears. Her arms crossed around her body as she attempted to keep herself from falling apart. But the look on your face as you refused to meet her eyes was frozen in her mind. 

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Imagine…

BAU!reader being married to Hotch but keeping her maiden name in the field to avoid assumptions and judgment. The team knows, obviously, but then a former colleague of Aaron’s from the Seattle office happens to be in town for a conference and wants to catch up over a drink. You can’t help but tease him, of course:

“Knock, knock,” you murmur, leaning against the doorway to your husband’s office. With a glance at your watch, you ask, “Y’gonna be late for your date?”

Aaron looks up at you with a frown before returning his attention to his case file and mumbling, “Not a date.”

“Mm, my apologies,” you respond with a twitch of your lips as you approach his desk. You lean your elbows on the dark wood and rest your chin in your open hands. Batting your eyelashes, you amend, “It’s a meeting betwixt old coworkers.”

Aaron rises from his chair, pressing his fists against the desk opposite you and positively towering over your smaller stature. He meets your fiery gaze with equal defiance, then leans forward to press a kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Are you our resident Reid while he’s with his mom? Who says ‘betwixt’?”

“Oh, shut up, nerd,” you taunt back between kisses of your own. “You collected coins; I played Scrabble. Now get going! Can’t leave a lady waiting for the Aaron Hotchner.”

—————

But WAIT! There’s more! Said agent gets a call while they’re out for a drink and asks Aaron and the BAU for help on a new case. Naturally, you all have to fly to Seattle together…

“Mama, you know this cabin is pressurized, right?” Derek teases with a nudge of your shoulder.

You mumble back around a sip of coffee, “Yeah, so?”

“So if you glare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole through the jet and we’re all gonna die up here.”

Emily snorts out a laugh and you steal a Cheeto from JJ’s snack (for which you’re met with a stern, “Hey!”) to throw at her. Emily collects the offensive projectile from her lap and pops it into her mouth with a ferocious chomp in your direction, receiving an, “Oh, bite me, Prentiss,” in response.

“Just find a way to slip in that you’re married,” JJ counsels, moving the bag out of your reach to avoid further retaliation.

“Or accidentally fall into his lap. Turbulence can be nasty, you know,” Emily offers as a follow up.

“Like that?” you deadpan, jutting your chin toward the scene at the back of the jet. Aaron and Agent Brandt are over by the coffee, and she’s just steadied herself using your husband’s broad shoulder.

“Or,” Derek counteroffers, tugging at the chain around your neck that holds your wedding and engagement rings while you’re out in the field, “put this rock on and go claim your man!”

“This is dumb. I’m being dumb,” you grumble, flipping open the case file and burying your head in it. “Can we get back to talking about this sociopath and not my high school-esque jealousy?”

“What’s happening? Did I miss anything?” Garcia’s blonde curls bounce up on the monitor before your group, ready for the next installment of this evidently riveting saga.

“Nothing is happening, Pen,” you respond with a sharp look her way, “and y’all need to get out more. Watch a romcom or something if you need some angst.”

“You all completely suck,” Penelope sighs dramatically. “My cup runneth empty in my lair!”

“Then go get yourself another cappuccino, baby girl,” Derek answers smoothly with that dazzling smile of his, perched on the armrest of your seat.

You feel his presence before you hear his voice, every atom in your body suddenly on high alert and keenly aware of everything that is Aaron. “Hey.”

You look up at him with an easy smile, determined to not let your unwarranted bitterness reflect on your work. “What’s up, Hotch?”

He squats down in the aisle beside you so he’s not looming over you and brushes his knuckles across your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender touch, given your current audience. “Do you have that travel bottle of Advil? Brandt may have been overzealous with the margaritas last night.”

“Yeah, it’s… in the side pocket of my bag,” you answer, brow furrowed because he tossed it in there this morning to ward off your inevitable headaches during the coming late nights.

“You’re the best, honey,” he murmurs, standing halfway to press a kiss to your forehead before returning to his full height and going off in search of the pain killer.

“‘Overzealous with the margaritas’, huh?” Emily teases, then starts singing the viral song about just how many margaritas are needed to perform certain acts that shan’t be discussed in polite company.

From across the plane, Dave glances at Aaron who’s rummaging through the overhead luggage bin, then turns his attention to you with a knowing gaze. You avert your eyes, feeling a blush creeping across your cheeks, and settle back in your seat before flipping through the case file in front of you. “So crime scene photos would suggest we’re dealing with a disorganized killer…”

—————

But WAIT! There’s even more!

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[zzeraphilm]

Fight For Me (II)

Part one Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (GN) word count: 3,803 Summary: When industries collide, Kuroo is reunited with the one that got away. But nobody is pleased to see each other.

“Oh Y/N!” Alisa Haiba screeched, bringing her old friend into a hug. “I’m so glad you took the role! Ah I can finally have a friend amongst my team.” 

With a laugh, Y/N only rubbed their friend’s back lightly, not to crease her outfit that will soon be shot in the new YSL photoshoot. It had been back in Melbourne did Y/N L/N and Alisa Haiba became acquaintances. At first it took Y/N a while to realise how they recognised Alisa, thinking it was just because they saw her face plastered on every major billboard on their way to campus. But the illusive fantasy of a celebrity was shattered when she spoke in her accented English and their high school memories came flashing before their eyes. From that day forward, their worlds collided. 

After a gruelling last ditch push to complete their masters, Y/N was lucky to have Alisa as one of their few friends in Tokyo. Since coming back to Japan, Y/N had forgotten how lonely the city could be. How they would blend into the crowd of faces, becoming another statistic on a long list of residents. They hated the city, they hated how the streets they used to walk down during high school remain untouched, how the faces of the shop owners only grow older, their frowns sagging to the floor. Getting out of Japan felt liberating, to come back to it all Y/N found themselves wallowing in the same self-pity that they found themselves suffering with during their teen years. Alisa was a reminder of the world outside of the city, she allowed Y/N to follow her on trips and try new exciting things to brighten their full life. When Alisa became the face of YSL Japan and her modelling career expanded beyond Asia, Y/N was thrilled to join their friend at the request to be her assistant public relations secretary. 

If I could get Alisa to be the most known face across the globe, I can finally start my life again, out of Tokyo. 

The desire to finally leave Japan behind, leave their past behind and explore the world beyond. Maybe, that could get rid of the sour taste in Y/N’s mouth every time they thought of Tokyo. 

Despite their extensive years in academia, books could not compare to reality. Piles and piles of paperwork, emails and meetings meant Y/N lived and breathed the Haiba siblings. Being a part of Alisa’s PR team meant being a part of Lev’s, it was a given to see the fellow Nekoma alumni at work. At first, Y/N was resentful. Nekoma was supposed to be long past them, just a floating memory of guilt and regret. Lev was advised by his sister to not pester Y/N about high school, about anything related to Nekoma especially anything about Kuroo. The first few months with the Haiba siblings were stressful. Lev was growing increasingly popular amongst younger fans, booking him on daytime television to speak about his latest projects was a breeze. More fans meant more fan meets and thus more work for Y/N. 

More work means bigger reach, and getting even closer to leaving.

With winter around the corner, Y/N knew there would be an exponential growth in events that would need to be covered. Press conferences, online campaigns, brand collaborations. Whenever Y/N closed their eyes, all they could see was the Haiba siblings plastered on the inside of their eyelids. Amidst the pile of work, Y/N noticed a oddly hand written note; 

‘Please please pleaseeee consider this one! I wanna work with Kenma and Chibi-chan T^T’ 

Lifting up the sticky note, the title page screamed out to Y/N. 

“Bouncing Ball Corp ft. Hinata Shoyo and Lev Haiba.” 

“Helloo~”

“Where’d you get this plan from? Who gave it to you? Is this some kind of joke? You’re a high end luxury brand model with limited television guest appearances, what makes you think I’d let you represent sports now?” Y/N’s voice boomed into the phone, causing Lev’s eardrums to burst and bleed from the noise shattering scolding on the other end of the call. 

“Kenma gave it me! He said his team told him it would be good to reach out to other famous people who knew!” He whined.

It was partially the prospect of being with Kenma and Hinata again, but more so, he craved the feeling of slamming a volleyball with his bare hands again. After years of maintaining his pristine image, his calloused hands had smoothened out, as soft as a baby’s bum. He was yearning for the thrill of the game again. 

“No. This proposal makes no sense anyways. Who even wrote this?” 

“Well it was someone on Kenma’s side! Anyways, he’s got a hugeee following on Youtube and Twitch! All people talk about on Twitter is his stuff! Y/N you’ve always wanted a big international gig, and I’ve found us one! Please, please, please, pleaseeee!” If Lev wasn’t in public he would’ve been on his knees begging, kissing Y/N’s feet till they said yes.

Indeed, all Y/N needed now was a major international break for the siblings, if they could book either a global brand ambassador position or an American modelling debut, then Y/N could finally relocate to anywhere but Japan. The Tokyo smog blocked their lungs each daily commute to work, the buildings never changed and the familiar scents of old stores and parks they used to frequent as a student became sickening. 

“Give me Kodzuken’s contacts and we’ll see.”

It was a wild goose chase to get the right person to contact. Email, after email. More and more useless contacts that lead Y/N to no helpful responses. Different representatives of Kodzuken and Hinata Shoyo till finally the Japanese Volleyball Association. After two weeks of this ordeal, Y/N was finally sent through to the person in charge of organising the project. But of all people, it just so happened to be Kuroo Tetsurou. Shit. 

Despite getting to chase around his old volleyball rivals across the world for scouting, interviews and just regular catch ups. Kuroo hated the mundane parts of his job, emails and project meetings. Managers up his arse about deadlines. His fingers were beginning to cramp into a contorted version of itself with all the typing he had to endure. He swore his email page was burned into the scleras of his eyes. 

Ping. 

Another one to the read later pile. It was fifteen minutes till the end of his shift, he wasn’t going to stay for overtime this week, he had made plans with Kenma tonight. After weeks of rejection, the self-made entrepreneur finally was willing to leave his room to grab a drink with his long time friend. Before he could shut off his monitor, he read the Sender’s name.

L/N Y/N. 

Holy fuck. 

He thought he had buried the last sparks of affection he had for Y/N the morning they blocked them. But no, like a phoenix, the embers within him burst into an inferno. Nothing could quench the burning desire he held inside. Kuroo had forgotten where he was, he was no longer stuck in a mechanical cubicle with the robotic tapping of keyboards echoing throughout the room. He was back in his Nekoma uniform, back with Y/N by his side. He could smell them, touch them and most of all kiss them. Their laugh was ringing in his head, he was high on their perfume. Kuroo begs to any mighty power above him or anyone who could hear his heart, for his yearning to cease. He thought he could leave it all behind but his body, no his soul calls for Y/N. 

A few clicks was all it took and he plummeted to the pitiful man he once was without Y/N. His eyes darted at the few sentences, he could hear Y/N’s echoing in his head reading to him.

I hope this email finds you well…Lev Haiba…with Bouncing Ball Corp…please contact me…best regards L/N Y/N. 

By some wicked power that festered inside him, Kuroo saw this as a sign from the universe. Finally letting Y/N back into his life. He could once again feel true happiness, the love that had left his heart with a gaping void for the last few years. 

Within a few weeks, each team was able to schedule the first table reading for the promotional video. The main plan to have it filmed over a course of two weeks, just in time before the Olympics in Tokyo. Time was of the essence and the only reason why Y/N was pushing themselves to succeed in this collar was the promise of a better life for themselves. The table reading was in a spacious meeting room curtesy of the Japanese Volleyball Association, the room stretched far beyond any hall Y/N had seen before. A titanic monitor casts its shadow over the table, a long aisle of varied refreshments framed the corners of the room. The chairs were individually cushioned, the carpet was soft with the richest woven fibres from the farthest corners of the world.

Y/N had arrived with Lev and multiple representatives from his team, Kuroo was stood under the frame of the entrance door, his jaw ajar. To Kuroo Tetsurou the mere sight of Y/N took his breath away, all he wished to do was run as fast as his legs could take him and embrace them with the strength of a thousand suns. Claiming them to be his all over again. He didn’t notice that Y/N’s face was getting closer and closer towards him, till they were stood shoulder to shoulder, face to face. 

“Mr. Kuroo, a pleasure to be working with you.” Y/N held out their rigid hand.

“…Y/N,” he whispered, as if saying their name aloud was punishable by death. 

“My name is L/N. I expect you to refer to me as such. We will see you inside.” Five seconds. Their reunion lasted five seconds, Kuroo couldn’t help but watch Y/N’s figure walk away, the closest he’s ever been to them, and all he can have in return is the sight of their back. 

“My god, they’re as beautiful as the day I lost them.” Kuroo uttered. 

The meeting went as smoothly as planned. Any issues were discussed thoroughly and everyone was confident in the project. But Kuroo paid no attention to any of it. His eyes could not keep off of Y/N. The way they’d speak so eloquently, unlike how childish they were in high school. He admired Y/N’s new found maturity, this chic version of his love, he was still entranced by their allure years after their split. However, his eyes would dart to the presence of Lev Haiba next to Y/N. A deeply rooted feeling of jealousy to the boy he once considered his underling. The Haiba siblings could see and be around Y/N every waking hour, yet the only time he had with them within his reach, lasted only five seconds. It wasn’t fair. He had assumed that Y/N had no more ties to Nekoma, so the thought of Y/N never cross his mind, till now. Seeing them beside Lev Haiba, sparked a new fire within his chest. Distant memories would flash in Kuroo's mind, younger versions of themselves, a first year Lev begging to meet and be around Y/N, his partner of three years. Jokes that he would push aside, confirming how Y/N was separate to volleyball and he had no intentions of merging these two sides of him. Yet there they were, in union with each other. Y/N and volleyball. He felt sick. 

“I understand that the sport is the focus of this project, but we mustn’t ignore the everyday audience who aren’t fans of the sport.” Y/N spoke with a tinge of spite, they never mentioned the sport by name. In case the moment they uttered its name, they would be shackled down to its legacy for all of eternity. 

“Lev is the public’s rising heartthrob, for both his looks and his humour, use it.” 

“Aw! Thank you Y/N!” The half-russian man tried to coddle Y/N only to be pushed back into his seat by them.

Kuroo Tetsurou was torn. He wished to be the one to coddle Y/N. He hated how formal this all was, never had he thought of Y/N as this pragmatic android that spouted the same endless bullshit his co-workers would repeat. He wanted to see them laugh again, he wanted to bring them crying on their knees from tears of laughter. Maybe if he did that stupid impression of their father that always made them laugh, maybe then Y/N would go back to how they were in school. 

The meeting came to a close and the rounds of production was set in stone. Kuroo’s work continued to pile, he couldn’t stay on set with the boys anymore than a day and any moment he did have on set, Y/N was never there. Filming ceased and everyone returned to their original teams, muttering away on their desktops and laptops to meet the deadline their bosses’ had set. Lev Haiba went back to modelling for big brands, Kenma increased the number of live-streams in the weeks forward after having a week off for filming. Whilst Hinata was preparing the announcement of him joining the Japanese National team.

Kuroo was stuck in his monotone cubicle again. The sight of his friends succeed in things beyond the mundane 9 to 5, that he was a  slave to, was not an idea that came to mind at first. Originally, he loved the thrill of working behind sports promotion. But now, as a settled employee, he felt his life drain by the second. Only the thought of Y/N pushed him, once the project is uploaded and succeeds, he could see them at the celebratory party. If everything goes to plan. Then he could finally speak to them. Apologise. Tie everything up in a pretty bow so he could feel, complete. 

The promotional video saw millions of views and trending hashtags across multiple social medias. They had, of course, prepared for this case. Releasing behind the scenes content, exclusive photographs and interacting with online fans.

It was as Y/N had planned, down to the T. It was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders, they knew within a few days the money would come rolling in through sponsors and new deals for their company. The Japanese Volleyball Association along with Bouncing Ball Corp allowed the teams to work in a private office space for the collaboration to increase cross communication. Y/N had spent night after night working endlessly on multiple PR plans that would cover all of Lev’s possible mishaps. The moment everything succeeded, they crashed. Their face plummeted to the keyboard and drifted into a deep slumber.

Y/N was at the entrance of Nekoma High, their uniform was slightly creased because they forgot to iron their shirt the night before. First day of high school and they already felt nauseous. They hated how their uniform sat on their frame, they hated how they had they ended up in a school where most of their old middle school classmates joined them. They felt stuck in an endless cycle of the same boring, mundane life they always lived. 

“Ya gonna go in?” 

The light spring breeze blew the tall boy’s black hair to fly upwards, revealing his other eye. He quickly flattened it to hide his forehead. He looked ridiculous, his jumper was slightly too big for him, his parents probably went a few sizes up awaiting for his eventual growth spurt. 

“L/N c’mon, let me copy your English homework! Just this once!” Kuroo pleaded, training behind Y/N like a cub to its mother. 

“Kuroo this is the fourth time! Remember last time, the teacher called your mom in for a meeting about you cheating!”

The boy had grown to tower over Y/N now, he was freakishly taller than the day they first met. His long limbs made him be twice as fast as well. “I’d much rather get told off for copying than get told off for bringing nothing at all.” 

With a huff, Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Their dynamic was a breath of fresh air for Y/N, who previously was so used to an isolated world. But by Kuroo’s side, Y/N felt like they belonged. Somewhere within Kuroo’s circle, Y/N had a place fit just for them. 

Kuroo would always tell people that he asked Y/N out first, that he prepared a romantic dinner at his place and popped the question as if it was their last night on earth. In truth, Y/N caught him amidst his plans and cut him to the chase. But Kuroo Tetsurou, the ever-so secret romantic, wanted everyone to believe that he swept them off their feet. 

“If we’re going to be together we’ve got to do good morning and good night texts,” he huffed whilst Y/N’s arms cradled him into a tight embrace. They laughed in response for his childish acts, as a way to get back on ruining his plans on asking them out, Kuroo insisted on being as romantic as he could be with them. Holding hands, spooning, kisses in public. He didn’t care for the stares, he didn’t care for the whispers. He was happy. Y/N was happy. 

“Y/N,” Kuroo’s face was so close yet each time Y/N reached out their hand, it faded into nothingness. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” He kept calling their name yet Y/N couldn’t reach him. 

“Tetsu?”

A sudden jolt caused Y/N to shoot back up, their shoulders were covered with a distinct black jacket. Beside them was of course, the man who emerged straight from their dreams. Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Sorry but, they’re shutting the building soon. You shouldn’t sleep here, it’ll hurt your back. I know that very well,” he chuckled beneath his breath. 

Y/N hadn’t realised this before, but Kuroo’s eye bags had sunken deeper into his face. He had more noticeable crows feet and the wrinkles between his eyebrows had settled in already, quite concerning for a man still as young as him. He had changed his cologne again. He went back to the faint powdery scent, with hints of elderflower. The cologne Y/N bought him for their second anniversary. They didn’t know they still made that scent. His hands were still as calloused as they were years ago, bulging veins decorated his wrists and forearms. He maintained his built form, Y/N could see it through his button up shirt. He hadn’t changed much but was still an entirely different person.

“I was just tired Kuroo.” Y/N shimmied out of the man’s coat to return it, but Kuroo remained still. 

“It’s weird to hear you call me that.” He chuckled, “I was always Tetsu to you.”

“Yeah well that was when we were kids.” 

Kuroo smiled, a sad empty smile that held the years of regret that he harboured. Kids in love, he thought. 

“I’m going home now, thanks for waking me.” Before Y/N could step out of the office door, Kuroo grabbed their wrist. He knew this was the last time he would ever see them, he sensed it. The moment they walk out that door it’ll be over. He had to fight, it was now or never.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for how I treated you all those years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you. I’m sorry I was never there for you.” 

Disgusted. Pained. Relieved. Scared. Y/N’s stomach felt like a pit of snakes colliding into each other, trying to consume one another but failing miserably. Kuroo Tetsurou was a shell of a man now, the pain of heartbreak that lasted an eternity was killing his body slowly. He hadn’t mourned Y/N properly. He hadn’t mourned their relationship properly. 

“Why?”

“Huh- What?” Kuroo asked, dropping his grip on Y/N.

“After all these years. Why are you apologising to me now.” You could hear a pin drop from the deafening silence between the two.

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you Y/N, I won’t ever stop loving yo-“

“Shut up.” This was straight out of teenage Y/N’s dreams, the Kuroo Tetsurou who was begging them to stay. The Kuroo Tetsurou that they used to cling to in hopes of a final embrace. He was finally right in front of Y/N. With glassy eyes, proclaiming his undying love to them, his body craving Y/N’s own. He was right there, and he was pathetic. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. If you did love me, you would’ve done this the night we ended it. But no, you barely said anything to me. In fact what you did, hurt me more than our actual split. You left me. You left me alone. Not just in our time together. I was never included in any part of your life beyond me. Despite being together for three years, I was completely, utterly alone." Warm tears that Y/N had suppressed for years began to arise from the dead. 

“I thought you wanted me by your side, that you needed me because I had a place in your life. But you proved me wrong time and time again! I came second to everything in your life! Not once did I feel like a person to you. You took me for granted.” 

It was like a slap in the face for Kuroo Tetsurou, he hadn’t realised it till now. In his eyes, Y/N was someone he once wanted to possess, to have and hold forever. He saw them just like his old pair of glasses he lost down the coach pillows. It took a few blinks to realise in front of him, was a person who had seen love and loss, found liberation and had it taken away. A person who had worked their life away to see the riches of their hard work. When they were in Nekoma, Y/N would always cheer him on from the sidelines, he thought it was fine. He thought they were okay with just watching them afar, he knew they didn’t really like volleyball but he didn’t care to talk about it anymore. He didn’t care. He didn’t care for having Y/N meet his teammates and hang around them, he wanted to keep them to himself. He didn’t care. His indifference was his demise. After over five years, he realised this. 

“I have lived a thousand lifetimes since I left you. I think it’s time for you to do the same Tetsurou. Stop clinging to the past.”

Kuroo Tetsurou, the man who yearned the joys of his youth, could see clearly now. Y/N didn’t look back at the man. They picked up their bag and stepped out the door. Phone in hand, ready to dial up their friends, to celebrate a life well lived. 

[albatmobile]

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar

next: [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4.5k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, eventual cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, eventual cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

You hate people your age. Always quick to judge and even quicker to shun. 

Kids, on the other hand? You could deal with them.

Kids couldn’t turn their noses up at you, they couldn’t gossip about you and they definitely couldn’t use Google. If they could, they’d find your not so clean history. You’ve never been fucking arrested- none of that shit. No, you needed to make up extra money to compensate for the low paycheck you take as a teacher during the day by becoming a camgirl at night.

It hasn’t been a problem at this school yet, but it always seems to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Eventually, a dad catches whiff of it, their wife gets jealous and you’re quietly let go. This is your third school in four years and you really don't want there to be a fourth. 

That’s why you dread running into parents who come to pick up their kids.

You catch this all-telling gaze of a redheaded man from across your classroom. He’s helping Lian with the cupcakes she’d brought in for her birthday today and you quickly adjust your glasses, hoping he won’t recognize you.

The hope is in vain.

Your smile is strained as he makes his way over to you with his little girl and leftover cupcakes in tow. His gate is too assured, his eyes too jovial. So, you do what you do best: ignore the parents. 

You bend down to Lian’s level to help her remove the cupcake wrapper from the red cupcake her dad’s given her. “Did you have a good birthday in class today, Lian?” you ask. The little girl nods excitedly, chomping into the dessert with gusto. “Do you have any fun plans for tonight?”

Your question is obviously for Lian, but it’s her dad who responds, “Do you?” 

You clear your throat, standing from your squat as you face the redheaded man. This isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on, but it always throws you off guard when it happens.

You shut him down easily, “Grading Lian’s test from today. Isn’t that right?”

Her pigtails bounce up and down. “It was about the different types of clouds in the ‘mosphere.”

“Atmosphere,” you correct her with an amused smile.

Much to your chagrin, he continues on like you haven’t rejected him. “You look like someone I know,” he trails off as if trying to place your face.

Mr. Harper- Roy, you correct yourself, looks to be in his mid-30’s. He has a decent amount of stubble, crows feet grace the corners of his verdant eyes and his hair looks like it used to be a brighter orange than the faded strawberry color it is now. He’s exactly the type of audience you cater to on your porn channel.

“A person you know of,” you repeat his words with a disinterested drawl. You wish the conversation would resolve itself or just fucking end. This beating around the bush shit isn’t for you. “Odd phrasing, but alright.” You need to change the subject and quick. “I’ll be seeing you at the open house next week, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.” 

You barely contain your eyeroll as you correct him on your name. “It’s Miss,” you tell him your last name again sternly.

“You’re killing me, Miss,” he says your last name, obeying your correction. 

“Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway,” you continue on unphased as you focus on saying goodbye to Lian.

He finally moves out of your classroom but lingers in the doorway. “Have you… Were you ever a librarian?” he asks suddenly.

Don’t reveal anything. Don’t reveal anything.

You calm your breathing. It’s too pointed of a question for him to not know the video that made you famous: a librarian who gets bent over any and every surface in the library.

“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Harper,” is all you respond.

You’re fucked.

➸💋➸

The Sunday before the parent teacher conference, you’re scheduled to stream. 

All your content except one video, the one of you as a librarian, is solo streams and uploads, which makes it easy for you to make content and stick to a schedule. The one production video you did required a lot of coordinating and planning in advance. It ended up being a total hassle and, in the end, the money was about the same. That’s why you like your streams. You’re able to wear what you want, use whatever toys you want and you get to pick the location. 

The library closest to you is always deserted, especially so on the second floor where the old Fax Machines are stored. The second floor holds records, old newspapers and magazines as well as a smaller collection of nonfiction. Total snoozefest for some, but the perfect public filming spot for you. 

The nonfiction section is a separate room from the rest of the second floor and is hidden behind the shelf of vintage magazines. You’ve filmed in here a few times before, but never streamed. This is why you’ve chosen to come in around two hours before they close to eliminate as many opportunities as possible for someone to catch a peak.

You’re giddy as you wave to the librarian who always seems to be behind the counter as you make your way up to your favorite spot. You’re wearing a cotton, white wrap dress, no bra, red thong and heels. The light material shows off everything. Coupled with your signature glasses, you look irresistible.

There’s one desk inside the room, right in the middle that you quickly shove out of the doorway view. The heavy desk is the bane of your existence, especially in your fucking heels, but this way no one can see you unless they literally walk into the room. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s what you’re working with.

Always punctual, you start your stream right on time. 

avid_reader began stream 

Slowly, viewers trickle in as butterflies stir in your stomach. No matter how many times you stream, you always feel a rush of anxiety as soon as you click ‘Start.’ 

Private streams are a whole different ballgame. 

Though you do offer it, you charge a steep price for private cams. So far, only your top fan has been able to meet that price more than once. The dude isn’t a creep, nor did he have any kinks you weren’t comfortable with and hell, the dude was pretty funny, too. Out of all the fans to get you in private, you’re glad he’s the only reoccurring one. 

From his requests, you can definitely tell he’s an ass man. You also know that he likes when you wear clothes like you are today: inconspicuous yet revealing. Though he’d never say no to your lingerie, he always preferred tight fitting, see-through tops and short skirts more so than babydolls and matching sets.

Before you get too into everything, you tease the camera you’ve set up on the desk with your nipples that poke through the fabric. You adjust your glasses that fall down the bridge of your nose as you do so, earning you your first tip of the night. 

You like to wait for your top fan to join, or at least give him a chance to, but you don’t have to wait too long before his name pops up.

inmyarsenal: this is gona b gud 

Though his typing is horrendous, it easily brings a smile to your face, something he notices and tips generously for. 

It’s going to be a good night.

You reach your first goal and slowly draw your tits out of your dress out into the open. Your nipples are already perky as you grasp your hands around them and squeeze. Your nipples poke through your fingers as you jiggle your grip around your breasts 

inmyarsenal: someone’s gonna walk in on you babe

You bite your lip, looking toward the empty doorway. “I’ve been lucky thus far.”

inmyarsenal: i want t walk in on u baby. sO good for me

He sends another tip, completing your next goal all on his own. 

“Eager today, aren’t we?”

Your stomach flips, knowing what comes next. You shoot another worrying gaze toward the doorway before scooting the chair back a bit from the desk so the camera can see down to your knees as you spread them. Your red thong is on full display for your thousands of viewers.

You pull up on the fabric, leaving the thong to disappear into your pussy lips as you do. You tease a bit longer like this before finally pulling the fabric away and exposing yourself fully. 

You spend a few minutes slowly rubbing your cunt until you feel wet enough for what comes next. You tease the egg vibrator against your entrance, noting how the tips come in what seems like every second now. Within a minute, you reach your next chat goal- this one allows the tippers in the chat to set the speed of your vibrator. The more they tip, the longer they get control over it.

You slip the egg inside of you with a breathy moan. You use the silicone string that hangs out to continue to make the vibrator bob in and out of your hole, moving the camera to offer an up-close view of it.

No one in the chat gets a chance to call dibs before your top fan swoops in with a tip big enough to control the remote for over 15 minutes. You both know that you won’t last that long with him on the controls.

He starts off strong tonight, easing you into it for only so long before he ups the ante. Your settings on the app allow your viewers to control the tempo with their own vibration patterns that they create, meaning every single sinful vibration is caused personally by him. It makes it that much better. 

Today, however, it’s like he has a personal vendetta against you or something. The way he’s controlling your vibrator, he clearly wants you to leave the library with a squirt stain on your dress. Hell, he’d probably tip extra just for you to film your walk of shame, too, the fucking sadist. 

“Fuck,” you hiss. You can’t hold back your moans any longer, not caring how loud you’re being when it feels this good. 

One hand teases your nipples and squeezes your tits while the other rubs desperately at your clit. Your legs are spread over each side of your chair at this point, though they’re not much support when they’re shaking this hard. 

You’re about to come when you notice him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Shit!” 

He’s not the ugliest person to orgasm to, that’s for sure. The man, however, is someone you fucking know.

ABORT! ABORT!

If anything, your top fan seems to pick up that someone’s walked in on you and uses the last few seconds of his control to push the vibrator to its limit. Your hips fly from the chair, arching as you orgasm with a pathetic whine.

You end your stream, shaking and panting, while your come-hazed mind struggles to address the Wayne ward in front of you.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you rush, trying to regulate your breathing.

You’ve already covered yourself up with your dress, but your thong is around your ankles and there’s no nonchalant way to fix it. That, and the large wet stain that now adorns the lower half of your dress from the front and the back.

Luckily, as soon as you ended the stream, your vibrator ceased, though it still remains inside of you.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” the man asks casually, like you haven’t just squirted in the public library’s nonfiction section.

You’re at a loss of what to say, what to do, let alone where to put your come-dripping hands as you stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of you.

Normally, you’d think it was a pick up line, but no, you have met before. Many times. 

Your mother had been Bruce Wayne's elementary school teacher. Each year, you were invited with her to the annual Wayne Gala. Even after her passing years ago, the invitation still came, now addressed to you. Throughout the years of attending, you’ve met him a couple of times, but never much past the standard ‘how are you’ and never memorable enough to even remember his name.

This is a lot more than a “how are you.”

“I don’t really know how to answer that right now,” you admit slightly breathlessly.

Surprisingly, he snorts, “I can grab some towels from the bathroom for you.”

You just nod dumbly, half planning to escape the second he turns his back, half wanting to stick around and see how this all plays out.

While he’s gone, you pull off your thong and shove it in your bag along with the vibrator you pluck out.

Moments later, he returns with what seems like the entire roll of paper towels. He hands them to you, eyes never leaving your face before moving out to roam about in the room over.

You try to hurry up, wiping yourself down and packing up your shit at record speed. You walk into the other room sheepishly, paper towels still scrunched up in your hands as you meet his quirked brow and blank face.

"Thanks," you say, hoping he won't bring it up.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

“So,” he draws out the word. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t left at this point. “You like nonfiction?” 

You burst out laughing, something he appreciates with a small smirk as he turns over a title in his calloused hands. “I just like that it’s private up here,” you tell him your actual favorite genre before asking what’s been on your mind. “You’re Dick, right?” Out of all the Wayne ward’s names, this is the only one that springs to mind.

He huffs, putting the book back on the shelf, “Fuck no.”

“Sorry,” you hesitate. Should you just leave him alone and flee with whatever little dignity you have remaining? 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he sounds apologetic. “It’s Jason.”

That name does sound familiar.

“Jason,” you repeat out loud without meaning to, something he notes with a small smile.

“That’s the one,” he drawls with a deep, gravelly voice. Most normal people would respond with their own name, however you just sit there in your squirt covered dress as he flits into the nonfiction room you’d just been in. Oddly enough, he asks, “Can’t really recall your name either, if I'm being honest, kid.”

“‘M not a kid,” you mumble in embarrassment, holding your laptop case against your wet spot. You’re 25, for fuck’s sake. 

“Probably a good thing considering what I just saw,” he jokes lightly, though his attention appears to be on the books in front of him. You can tell his gaze is slightly unfocused, though.

You tell him your name as you make to leave. “Maybe I’ll catch you around,” you say.

His emerald eyes finally lock onto yours again. “Maybe you will.”

➸💋➸

At the open house the next day, all the dads stare at you, while the moms resort to glaring at you.

It’s what you’re used to.

You’re hot as fuck, it’s why you do porn. It’s why men like Mr. Harper think you have a familiar face.

Speaking of, the man’s been well-behaved for the most part. Aside from his lingering verdant gaze, he remains in the back of the room with crossed arms as he leans back in Lian’s chair. 

The button-up you’re wearing shows off your lofty cleavage and tucks nicely into your skintight pencil skirt. To someone like Roy, you assume you look like a walking wet dream. Your hair’s up in a bun and your signature glasses as your red heels clack along the laminate floors.

You go over your plans for the remaining half of the year as well as the project and letter the kids had created for the open house. It’s an hour-long event with time left for questions after, meaning you’re fucking drained by the time you’re ushering the last of the parents out the door. Surprisingly, Mr. Harper doesn’t linger, nor does he actually say anything to you. It’s entirely odd, but you’re not complaining.

You need a fucking drink.

You didn’t plan to go to a club. It’s totally not your scene. Somehow, tonight, it feels right. 

It’s a seedy place, but the drinks are strong and cheap and it’s exactly what you need after a long day like this one. You’re still in your teaching attire as you settle into the practically empty bar. Monday nights and clubs don’t exactly mesh well, meaning it’s close to dead, but that’s fine with you. You’re just here for a few drinks, then maybe treating yourself to some Chinese food.

You let your hair down, shaking it out as the lanky bartender comes over to take your order.

There’s a man across the bar from you. His face is obstructed by a red hoodie as he asks the bartender for something. If you tilt your head just right, you're able to get a better look at the white tuft of hair hanging prominently in front of his eyes. It kind of reminds you of Jason…

It’s as if he feels your curious gaze on him because his sharp one flickers your way. 

Dark green eyes meet your wide ones.

It is Jason.

Do you make the first move, or does-

Before you can finish your mental question, he raises a questioning brow your way as if asking for an invitation to come closer. You grant it, moving your purse over so he can sit.

“Hey,” you say as his hulking form sits down beside you.

“Not feeling nonfiction tonight?” He gestures down to the book you’d been reading before he approached.

"I-" You blush, hating how easily he has a hold over you.

Though you’d only planned to stay for a drink, you order another just to keep the conversation going. The two of you talk about everything and anything. The one topic the two of you keep coming back to is books and he doesn’t exactly let you off the hook for the library.

“Don’t think I’ll ever view that section the same way again,” he admits, taking a coy sip of his whiskey.

“I really am sorry,” you apologize genuinely. “I didn’t know anyone even used that section and I-" you start to ramble, but he gently cuts you off.

“Trust me, I didn’t mind.” You watch as he downs the last of his drink and signs his tab. “You want to get out of here?” he asks suddenly.

You blush even harder. The liquor settling into your system warmly surely doesn’t help any, nor the heat behind his half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” you breathe, biting lightly at your lower lip. 

“You do like public places, don’t you?”

You snort, covering your face in embarrassment, but he won’t allow it. He removes your hands from gentle, placing gentle kisses to each.

“I do,” you agree with a light smile.

“There’s an alley out that door,” he offers in a gravelly voice.

It’s all he has to say to get you up and out of your seat, following behind his muscular form.

His thumb draws light circles against your hand as he holds open the door for you to leave through first. “Shit,” he says suddenly. “You left your purse.”

You look behind you and notice that, yes, your dumbass left it on the seat next to you. Without another word, he leaves you to grab it.

You still have your phone on you and use the camera app to check over your makeup and hair as you wait in the alley for him. You hear a random noise from the rooftops but think little of it as the hooded man sneaks up behind you. His large hands caress you from behind as he pulls you backward against his strong chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asks darkly.

Your breath sputters, wanting nothing more, “Jason.”

His hands slip even lower on your torso, applying gentle pressure as he reaches your lower stomach. “What kind of panties are you wearing?” You can’t help but snort. He must’ve liked the red thong because you feel his dick stir to life when you mention much of the same. “Shit,” he groans when he shifts up your dress.

He runs his fingers along the fold of where your thighs meet your pussy as if to check if you’re telling him the truth.

You hear more clattering from above but can hardly focus on it when Jason turns you around to face him. It happens so fast that your mind’s still reeling from the action as he backs you against the brick wall of the club to finally slip a finger inside your thong.

“Fuck!” you exclaim. You can’t help but buck against his calloused index finger as his body molds against yours.

His lips capture yours in an instant with an intensity that leaves you crying out with want. It’s muffled against his lips as he holds your hands above your head with only one hand while the other focuses on working through your already slick folds. He refuses to touch your clit, which leaves you mewling and struggling against his hold.

It feels so fucking good.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud thump that forces Jason to startle slightly away from your gasping form.

“Ma’am,” out of nowhere, a gruff voice startles the two of you, “are you alright?”

Before you can respond, words are already out of Jason’s mouth. “Arsenal?” Jason asks, sounding entirely confused. 

Your head untucks from Jason’s sweaty neck to see a random-ass dude in a costume staring at the two of you. Your mouth is wide as you take in the new form in front of you. Your eyes trickle lower on his red uniform to where it protrudes out around his crotch.

Apparently, Jason’s seen enough. His hand shifts slightly as he moves and you can’t stop the light breath it draws from you. 

The costumed man visibly takes in the man’s face as if it’s familiar.

“I thought she was in trouble,” he trails off as he realizes that everything going on here is completely consensual.

They stare each other down for a few more seconds before Jason lulls you back in.

Instead of stopping, Jason’s fingers soon begin again and you resort to hiding your face against his neck as you allow it. He notices the man’s continued presence and smirks down at you. “Are you good with this?” he asks.

You nod, moaning loudly when he rewards you with another curl of his thick finger. You definitely aren’t used to doing this shit for free, let alone for a live audience, so you feel a bit shy. The shyness only lasts for so long before you suddenly grow bolder, throwing your head back erotically as Jason brushes against your g-spot.

Jason nips at your neck, leaving bites and bruises in his wake, but your half-lidded eyes are focused on the masked man in front of you. He’s yet to move, let alone breathe, it seems.

You can't deny that he’s ripped, nor that his muscular arms are doing things to you.

He’s hot.

“I don’t care if you touch yourself.” The words are out of your mouth before you even realize it. 

It’s as if the floodgates have opened as the vigilante begins palming himself through his suit. His movements are erratic and sloppy, as if he’s never touched himself before, though you suppose he’s never run into a camgirl in an alley before, not that he even knows.

You don’t even have to try to put on a show, Jason’s really that fucking good. Every moan, every writhe of your body and every shaky word you beg are all real reactions to his skillful hand. 

Jason’s hand picks up speed as you draw nearer. His lips catch deliciously against your own as he coaxes your tongue lewdly with his. “There we go,” he encourages you, leaving you to whimper, then cry out as his fingers squelch in and out of your slick cunt. “Just like that,” he says. With Jason and the other man’s eyes attached to your pathetic form, you come, nearly crumbling to the ground as you do. Luckily, Jason’s strong arms catch you with a small laugh, “You alright?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “Fucking amazing.” You bite at the corner of your bottom lip, eyeing the obvious strain in his jeans. “Would you want me to-?”

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You tantalizingly pull your hair up, something you did in your infamous scene.

Both men watch with slackened jaws as you squat down and unzip his jeans. His clothed cock tents out from the opening of the zipper and you waste no time in sucking at the head through his boxers. Once the fabric is thoroughly soaked through, you pull him out to fully admire his member.

You bite playfully at your lip, staring Jason in the eyes as you spit on his bobbing cock before slowly taking his length down your throat. When you reach the hilt, you moan, feeling the vibrations of it settle across his skin, “Mm.”

“Shit,” he groans and his arms shoot out on the brick wall behind you as if to control himself from fucking into your mouth. “Done this before, babe?” he teases you, though his eyes are completely dark with lust. 

“A time or two,” you jest back with an impish smile. Your glasses have completely ridden down to the tip of your nose at this point, something he notices and pushes back up with his thumb. 

The action causes a loud groan from the vigilante beside Jason, “Fuck, man.” He’s eagerly fisting his cock at this point, eyes never once leaving you.

“Want to taste her come?” Jason offers him

The moan the other man produces sounds pained, desperate, as he latches onto Jason’s calloused fingers coated with your slick.

You suck more eagerly, watching the whole interaction with fascination. You’ve never done something like this before, but you don’t think you’d mind doing it again.

“You taste so good,” the other man mumbles. You have no choice but to blush around Jason’s thick length, deepthroating him until tears spill from your eyes. “So good,” he mumbles again, completely lost in you.

You swap between teasing and deepthroating until you can tell he can’t take it any longer and attempt to finish him off with one of your signature moves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-" Jason caresses the back of your head as he empties out into your mouth. He pulls out and splatters the remnants of his come across your lashes. 

You blink heavily, turning to the other man as an invitation. “Not sucking your dick, but you can come on my tits,” you say to him.

“Fair enough,” he mumbles, completely distracted as you pull your tits out of your bra.

Your tongue pokes out to taste Jason’s come on your face while your hands squeeze at your tits like you had on stream. Poor dude doesn’t last another 20 seconds before his hot come splatters across your chest with the rest of his load drizzling down into your bra like a claim.

Definitely have to wash that when you get home.

Both men help you stand, though the vigilante takes off soon after zipping his pants. Jason, however, sticks around to walk you to your car, sending you off with his phone number.

When you get home, you barely have time to reflect on what the fuck had gone down in the alley when your laptop chirps oddly. You set down your purse on your kitchen island as you traverse over to your desk. Upon opening it, you find your channel pulled up and see inmyarsenal has left you a $200 tip. 

You shake your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you search to see if it’s been a mistake, considering you haven’t streamed since the library. You go to refund it to him only to see the note he’s left with it:

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

A/N: I've been waiiiiting to finishing this fic since last april!!! not super edited if i'm being honest

if you'd like to send me nice things in my ask box, it would make my day :,)

[next] || ao3 || pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

[erimeows]

Burnt Out

Working at Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital is brutal, to say the least. As the head of the cardiology department and a member of Gregory House’s diagnostic team, your job is not only hectic but also underappreciated. You spend most of your days cycling between helping your patients, helping your coworker’s patients, pouring over paperwork, being scolded by Cuddy, and being shat on by House, who insists that you stay on his team while constantly dismissing your ideas and implying that you’re an idiot like he does with damn-near everyone else he works with.

So, yeah. Life is great.

Currently, you’re sitting in the diagnostics conference room at the corner of the table. Chase, Cameron, Foreman, and Wilson are also sitting with you. Meanwhile, House is standing at the whiteboard, bouncing his tennis ball with one hand and using the other to write down your most recent patient’s symptoms.

“Eleven year old caucasian female, admitted two days ago after falling unconscious during her first ever track meet. Her family’s medical history is totally clean from what we can tell and she’s had no problems prior to this, though they seem to be way behind on taking her and themselves to the doctor for regular visits. However, since being admitted, she’s only displayed more symptoms and seems to be getting worse,” House explains, seemingly unenthused. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already figured it out. He likes to do that- to pretend that he has no idea what the patient’s affliction is and then rag on everyone else for not being able to figure it out. “So far, we’re dealing with high blood pressure, a one hundred one degree fever that refuses to break, hives, bloodshot eyes, and swelling across her entire body.”

“Rheumatoid arthritis?” Cameron suggests, eager to be the first one to get at the new case. “I know she’s young, but she could’ve developed it early and had it go undiagnosed.”

“Before we start discussing the possibility of chronic diseases, shouldn’t we test for strep and scarlet fever?” Chase questions. “If her parents are so bad about getting her medical care, it could have just been a minor illness that’s developed into this.”

“What about you two? (y/n), Foreman?” House pipes up, calling the two of you out since you’ve been totally silent since he started. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t do the same to Wilson, who hasn’t said anything either. “Nothing to say?”

Foreman shrugs.

“This isn’t my ballpark. I’ll let you figure it out, House. I’m sure you’re just playing with us anyway. Compared to the last few cases, this seems like child’s play.”

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, House turns to you.

“And you?”

“Kawasaki disease? She has some of the symptoms,” You half-heartedly answer.

“Just because you’re a cardiologist doesn’t mean that every patient that comes through these doors has a heart disease, you know,” House scoffs with a roll of his icy blue eyes. “And she only has some of the symptoms for that. She doesn’t fit into the main demographic for it either. That’s the worst answer I’ve gotten out of you for a case all month. Are you even trying anymore?”

When House first hired you, you were excited- always trying your best and working after your already long hours to solve cases. As the years have gone by, though, you’ve lost your enthusiasm and frequently find yourself dreading the mornings where you and House’s paths have to collide. You know he’s only so cruel because he has problems of his own and because he has a motive (just like he has a motive for every other crazy thing he likes to do), but the fact that he picks on you so often when all you’re doing is trying your best gets under your skin.

A couple years ago, you might’ve tried to argue back with him. Now, all you can do is avert your eyes and stare at the table as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. You’re praying for a hole to just appear underneath you and suck you into the vacuum of space- or at least for everyone to continue chatting until the embarrassing situation is long forgotten- but instead, Cameron pipes up to defend you. 

“Dr. House, was that really unnecessary? They’re trying their best and you’re being needlessly cruel.”

“What, are you jealous that I’m paying more attention to them than I am to you?” House snarks back at her. You hold your head in your hands and sigh. “Because next time, I can include you, too. Now do any of you have any better ideas than the crap you’ve just given me or am I going to be handling this case by myself?”

With that, the meeting continues. House ends up deciding that he’s going to order labs to see if the patient has strep or scarlet fever before doing anything else, leaving you to finish out your work day. 

You rush out of the office the moment he dismisses you all. Cameron tries to catch up to you to ask if you’re okay, but much to your relief, Chase stops her and tells her that you probably just need your space. You rush to your office, shut the door, sit down in your chair, and- for the first time in a long time- bawl your eyes out. 

House being a dick to you is typical, but on top of everything else that you have to deal with at your job, it pushes you over the edge. With the ungrateful patients, admin, and coworkers, the long hours, the physically and mentally draining work, and all of the drama that happens in the hospital, it’s almost impossible to keep going. The only thing- or, person- that makes it somewhat worth the turmoil is your partner, James Wilson, who you’ve been dating for some months now.

He’s a great comfort to you, and he’s always kind, unlike a lot of the people you find yourself surrounded by at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Your relationship is surprisingly healthy despite the amount of problems between the two of you. You don’t want to miss out on more time with him than you already do, though, so you find it hard to quit or even ask to be moved off of the diagnostics team. 

Conflicted and tired, you bury your head in your arms and cry even harder, glad that the walls are soundproof until you hear the sound of your doorknob turning.

And that’s when you realize that you forgot to lock the door.

You pop your head up, tears still covering your cheeks and welling up in your eyes. You probably look like shit and your partner has just walked in to see said display.

There, right in front of you, in the entryway of your office, stands James Wilson, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. The worst part is that you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way. The happy expression he walked in with has fallen completely.

“Did I come at a bad time?” He tentatively asks.

“No, sorry,” You answer and rush to wipe your tears away. You try to make yourself look presentable, probably to no avail considering the look of disbelief that James shoots your way. “What do you need?”

“Are you sure? I can leave if you want-” James starts and steps back towards the door.

“Don’t,” You interject, shaking your head. “Please. I know we’re at work right now, but…”

James sighs, then shuts and locks the door behind you. He quickly approaches your desk and sits on the edge of it, facing you.

“House really got to you today, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, I guess he did,” You shrug. “I don’t even know what to do about it anymore, James… I’m considering just quitting and going somewhere else. I feel so burnt out. It’s not even just House, it’s everything else, too. He’s the least of it.”

James nods.

“...I understand.”

“Do you really?”

“Well, maybe not in the exact same way. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice that House is a little less harsh on me than he is on the rest of you, but him and I have been friends for a long time. He knows what I’m capable of. The only reason he pushes your buttons so much is because he’s testing to see what your limits are. In a weird sort of way, he’s trying to get to know you,” James explains, though both of you know that isn’t much of a comfort to you. “I’m sure things have been difficult for you lately. You do a lot, and it goes unappreciated, but I promise you that you’re doing a good job and that there are people who appreciate what you do.”

At that, you smile. You don’t feel completely better, but the weight on your shoulders does feel a little lighter.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“I love you,” James says.

“I love you too.”

Hours pass. You work on paperwork while James responds to patient emails for you. The two of you knock out most of what’s been piling up on your end, much to your relief. You try not to think about the fact that James has probably neglected a lot of his day’s duties to help you out with this. 

“Should we head out?” You ask, looking at the clock.

“Probably… It is getting pretty late.”

Just then, the doorknob turns, only to go back since James had locked it just moments before. A second later, you hear obnoxiously loud knocking. Wilson goes to open it. Standing there is House, who’s holding a stack of papers.

“All the other tests came back negative. You were right,” House admits, looking straight at you. “It’s Kawasaki disease. Good job.”

Then, as fast as he came by your office, House leaves, just as elusive as ever- and all you and James can do is laugh.

[vxxxb]

DEPRIVE ME [5] - Miguel O'Hara x Reader

[Synopsis] - After an incident that jeopardizes your position at HQ, Miguel O'Hara becomes a constant reminder of the high expectations and zero tolerance for mistakes within his ranks. Everything takes an unexpected turn when Miguel sees the potential in your abilities and decides to enlist your help for a more personal endeavor. [Notes] -Slow burn, strained relationship in the beginning, slight angst, eventual fluff. Reader is ethnically Hispanic, with race not specified. Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four 3.95K words

“Cut it out,” Jessica whispers under her breath, her gaze fixed ahead.

You glance at her from the corner of your eye, a slight frown forming as you gently remove her hand that had tried to still your bouncing leg. You shoot her a warning look.

Sure, you could admit your nervous tick was annoying and distracting. Admittedly, both of you should be concentrating on Miguel's meeting. But you just couldn’t, and if you don’t fidget, then there’s room for overthinking.

If you stare at him, you know your mind will replay the memory of the last time you were in a room together. 

Alone. 

Just the two of you.

And as his tongue subtly peaks out, just a hint of it running across what you remember as soft supple lips, a flutter of excitement stirs in the pit of your stomach. 

"Care to share what’s caught your interest?" Miguel's composed voice cuts through the room.

Only when your lack of response hangs in the air do you finally realize he's addressing you. Suddenly, all eyes are on you. As you struggle to string together a reply beyond mere apologies or stammering, you catch a fleeting smirk from Miguel at your discomposure.

Your words trail off. Of course, he's intentionally baiting you. With narrowed eyes, you rise from your seat. Your position places you directly within his line of sight, even from the far end of the table. "I was thinking this debriefing is redundant, given that Lyla could have easily briefed us."

The shift in Miguel's smug demeanor to something more annoyed brings a subtle grin to your lips. The others seated around the table can't help but tense up, sensing the tension in your exchange with him.

"This meeting wasn’t required. If you didn't intend to listen, you shouldn't have signed up for the mission in the first place," Miguel practically growls. 

"Does 'Report to the conference room tomorrow by 9' sound like a choice?" You reference the message Lyla had assigned to you the previous night.

Right on cue, the A.I. appears, her heart-shaped glasses sliding down her nose as she offers Miguel a cheeky smile. "I'm programmed to prioritize optimal outcomes, and she's valuable to the mission."

“On what grounds?”

“You already know,” Lyla folds her arms, choosing not to elaborate because of the others.

Miguel's glare fixates on the A.I., his claws gradually extending while grazing the table's surface, those around it subtly inching away.

"See?" You point out. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it weren't necessary. You’ve made it clear you have no interest in seeing me."

You're indifferent to the fact that there's an audience; Miguel has been avoiding you ever since that damn kiss. Despite what you thought was a shared understanding of the urgency of your circumstances, this man lived on avoiding emotional confrontations.

“No comiénces,” He snaps, index finger pointing in your direction.

“Dice el que complica todo,” You huff, hands slamming onto the table.

“Yo no fui el que comenzó, tu eres-.“

“Típico, siempre soy yo la que tiene la culpa-“

"Should we give you two some privacy?"

Both your heads turn sharply in Ben’s direction, glaring at him in unison.

“Siéntate!”

“Cállate!”

Upon this exchange, Jessica rises from her seat. "Enough! Both of you," Her gaze shifts to Miguel, almost daring him to challenge a pregnant woman.

With a relinquished sigh, Jessica addresses the others. "Meeting's over; The rest of you can leave. We'll reconvene in ten."

As you move to leave, her arm extends across your chest, her other hand signaling for Miguel to join you both. Jessica lets out a deep sigh, gently rubbing her temple before fixing her gaze on both of you.

"Sort out whatever's going on between you two," She remarks firmly. "You're going to be partners for this mission. It seems a reminder is in order—this is an organization, not couples therapy." Her gaze singles you out.

Your eyes roll in response.

"Go get ready," Jessica dismisses you, remaining with Miguel.

As you exit the room, you only manage to catch the end of their conversation.

“I'm beginning to suspect you enjoy the trouble she stirs up for you, don't you?"

- - - - - -

It’s awkward… to put it simply.

Miguel avoids your gaze entirely, making a conscious effort to maintain a respectful distance as he strides ahead.

Both of you navigate through the sewers, the only sounds being the persistent dripping of water and the echo of your footsteps splashing through the murky currents.

You look down at your watch, the blinking red dot indicating that you and Miguel still have a considerable two miles to cover before reaching your position as per the plan; the rest of the team remains above ground, ensuring the anomaly ends where it's intended to go.

This expedition through the tunnels was bound to be challenging if Miguel persisted in his silent treatment. With a sigh, you quicken your pace to catch up with him, though his response is hardly a reluctant acknowledgment.

"You have no idea what to say to me, do you?"

His silence hangs heavy, a palpable tension swirling around him as he struggles to suppress any potentially harsh words.

"Alright, fine," you concede with a shrug, "words were never your strong suit, anyway." A faint frown flickers across your face. "But let's be honest, you might as well listen. You owe me that much."

Miguel’s steps falter briefly, and he finally meets your gaze. His brow furrows, focusing his full attention on you. "Oh, I owe it to you?"

You remove your mask and meet his eyes directly. "Yes, Miguel. You owe me, at the very least, a conversation."

You take a deep breath, walking ahead to help gather your thoughts. "Listen, what I did—it was a mistake, alright?" You focus on your watch, mask still in hand. "That kiss shouldn't have happened; it was inappropriate and impulsive, and I'm sorry." 

His lack of response gnaws at you -- After all, how else should he react? It's not like both of you ever anticipated something like this. Just a couple of months ago, you were practically at each other's throats, him eager to find a reason to have you removed. 

Yet, you still had kissed him.

Realistically, what more could you say? Oops, my desires got the better of me, and I made a reckless move. Yeah, that would surely earn you a swift return to your dimension without another thought.

His silence only makes you ramble. "I get that it was completely out of line," you continue, your voice quieter. "But we can't pretend it didn't happen. I just... I don't want things to be odd between us. Especially, after finding some sort of... rhythm."

You check your watch again; fifteen minutes remain.

Several more steps pass before Miguel's voice breaks the silence. "You're right."

Miguel draws nearer, yet his steps remain measured. "It caught me off guard," he finally admits, his voice a bit softer.

Yeah, me too, you sigh, walking forward. "We're almost there."

"Good, now put your mask back on."

And once again, he ends any further breakthrough.

You both continue walking through the sewers, the atmosphere a little less... tense. It was still better than the cold shoulder he had been greeting you with whenever you were near.

Suddenly, Miguel's wristwatch chimes and Jessica's voice breaks through urgently.

“Evacuate immediately!”

You turn to Miguel.

“They're breaching the water dam; you're about to be flooded!”

Your eyes widen abruptly, dread rippling through your body. “Move, now.” You rush out, jogging back along the path you've traversed, without even waiting for him.

Miguel trails behind you, arching an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation as the both of you pick up the pace.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you steal a glance at your watch, assessing the remaining distance to the entrance you initially used.

"Why the urgency?" 

You brush off his question, alert to any potential drainages or pathways to escape through.

“Hey,” his hand lands on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Your gaze shifts to him, only to tense at the ominous sound of concrete cracking. The walls reverberate, tiny fragments of debris cascading as the relentless pounding resonates through the tunnel.

"I can't swim," the words escape your lips.

You then hear the rush of surging water gushing in your direction; you sprint down the tunnel.

“What do you mean you can’t swim?” Miguel's voice comes out tinged with irritation.

Your heart races as you propel yourself forward, the noise of approaching water growing. Miguel's swift strides echo behind you, rapidly closing the gap.

"I mean I can't swim!" you retort sharply, pushing yourself to run even faster.

“What- and what if someone’s drowning?”

“Either I catch them or find another way,” you huff. “But swimming’s out of the question.”

Miguel casts a swift glance back, seizing your arm in one fluid motion, drawing you against his body. "Not this time." 

Immediately, water envelops you, and you clutch onto Miguel as he holds you close. Your surroundings blur, the sensation of water filling your ears as the two of you are briefly submerged, Miguel guiding you through the strong current.

Time seems to stretch as you're carried along by the relentless force of water. Your lungs begin to ache, and just as you feel light-headed, you're being pushed upward.

Your head breaks through the surface, and you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you struggle to breathe. At your side, Miguel's arm remains steadfast around you, treading through the water and helping support both your weights.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Still breathing," you cough out.

Both of you clasp onto the tunnel wall's edge, scanning for any available ledge to pull yourselves out of the water. When you spot one, Miguel hauls you both up. The two of you tumble onto the damp ground, water dripping from your suits, yours more drenched than his.

"Thank you," you eventually breathe out, offering Miguel a grateful look.

You rise to your feet, taking in your surroundings, finding yourselves in a narrow alleyway. It's raining outside, but it's a sight more welcoming than the waterlogged chamber you've just escaped from.

Miguel looks around, speaking into his intercom. "Updates on the anomaly?"

"Electro got away," Peters's voice crackles through. "Ben and I managed to corner him near the water, but he made a break for the sewers, but he's weak Miguel."

"Any fix on his whereabouts?"

"Working on it."

Miguel's hands slide down his face in frustration. "Mierda."

You watch Miguel visibly agitated, and though you're tempted to offer some solace, the situation overrides any sentiments. You look at the sky, taking note of the sun setting down, and check your watch to confirm the time -- 6:45 pm. 

"It's getting late," you point out, the both of you walking down the alley. 

"It's not like they haven't worked overtime before."

"True, but considering the failure of this mission so far, it's best to regroup tomorrow," You reason, a shiver coursing down your spine.

Thunder echoes through the sky, ominous clouds masking the sky as rain downpours. A muttered curse slips from your lips, your body trembling more noticeably. Unlike Miguel's nanotech suit, yours lacks the same resilience to handle unexpected weather.

"Listen, I'll stay here and start searching for Electro early tomorrow," You call out over the rain. "You should head back with the rest and work out another strategy."

Miguel's gaze flickers at you, concern etched in his features as he assesses you. He doesn't answer immediately, grappling with the best course of action. The rain keeps falling, drenching you further, and you feel the cold seep into your bones.

He hesitates briefly before sighing, "No" he says firmly, "I'm staying with you."

His response catches you off guard, especially considering the recent awkwardness and avoidance over the past couple of days.

"Miguel I don't think-"

"Besides," he interjects with a wry smile, "I wouldn't want to give you another chance to accuse me of avoiding you."

You chuckle, smiling at his attempt at humor, arms folding across you. 

"I'll contact Jess and Peter," he says, reaching for his intercom. "Let them know we're safe and staying put for the night."

You watch as he communicates with the others, patiently waiting for him to finish. When he does, he turns to you, gesturing towards the alley's exit.

"We should find a place to stay," he removes his mask while walking ahead. 

You catch up to him, removing your mask as the two of you reach the main street. A glance around reveals the streets are nearly deserted, the rain effectively keeping everyone indoors. You and Miguel walk in silence, looking for a place to sleep.

Soon enough, the neon lights of a nearby motel sign illuminate the street. You and Miguel pick up your pace, eager to escape the relentless downpour and find shelter.

Upon entering the motel's lobby, the bell above the door jingles softly, and a weary-looking receptionist raises an eyebrow at the two of you, dripping wet in your soaked suits. Your spider-suits.

"Comic convention," you offer with a modest smile, attempting to sound convincing.

"Uh-huh," she nods, her tone betraying a hint of boredom. "But we're fully booked for the night," she informs you with detachment.

You and Miguel exchange a fleeting glance, a tacit understanding passing between you both.

Miguel steps forward, leaning slightly on the counter. "Listen, there was a booking mix-up at the place we were initially heading to," he states. "We just need a place to rest for the night. Can you consider making an exception?"

The receptionist eyes him for a moment, seemingly considering his words. "Fine," she concedes after a pause. "I've got one room left. You'll have to share a bed, though."

Another quick exchange of looks transpires between you and Miguel.

"Is there any chance we might-" 

"One bed, take it or leave it, honey," she retorts, reaching for the room keys.

"Sure," you respond, feeling a bit weary. "And if it's possible, could we also get some dry clothes?"

She eyes you disinterestedly. "Anything else?"

"No..."

"Thank you," Miguel interjects before you can continue. He slips his card across the counter, and the receptionist hands you a keycard and two bags of prepackaged sleepwear.

"Room 302, the elevator is down the hall to the right."

You offer a nod, and you both head down the hall in the direction she indicated. The elevator is right where she said it would be, and as you step in, the cold seeping from your wet clothes seems more biting than before. Miguel presses the button for the third floor, and the elevator begins its ascent.

Upon arriving at the third floor, you locate room 302. Miguel swipes the keycard, and the door emits a soft click, unveiling a dimly illuminated interior with a single queen-sized bed.

Both of you step inside, the discomfort from your soaked clothes intensifying with each passing moment.

Miguel hesitates briefly before clearing his throat. "You can go ahead and shower first," he suggests, his tone slightly awkward.

With a nod, you make your way toward the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, a tired sigh escapes your lips. Of all the scenarios that could have unfolded, sharing a room with Miguel was the least expected.

How fortunate, you bite your lip feeling a bit anxious.

Wringing your mask over the sink, you remove your damp suit, the chill from the rain still lingering on your skin. You opt for a warm shower, the sensation of the warm water soothing your muscles and washing away the day's stress. Once done, you towel off and put on the sleepwear provided by the motel. It's a touch loose, but it's a welcome contrast to the clammy sensation of your soaked suit.

Emerging from the bathroom, you find Miguel seated on the edge of the bed, his damp hair tousled as though he attempted to dry it with his hands. His gaze lifts as you enter, a faint softening in his expression.

"You can use the bathroom now," you offer, sensing the lingering tinge of awkwardness between you.

Miguel nods and heads into the bathroom, leaving you alone. You take a moment to survey your surroundings -- worn-out furnishings, and unremarkable decorations on the walls. It's not opulent by any stretch, but it offers rest for the night.

After a short while, Miguel reemerges from the bathroom, similarly wearing the motel's sleepwear. His dark hair remains damp, and his demeanor seems more relaxed. He avoids making direct eye contact as he moves toward the bed.

You purse your lips, considering your next words. "If you'd prefer, I can-"

"Just get in," he states, slipping beneath the covers.

“Well then,” you nod no room for argument.

The room is quiet, and with a subdued sigh, you cautiously join him on the bed. Lying on your side, you face away from Miguel, the rain outside setting the mood as you settle in for the night.

You can feel the weight of the mission and your exhaustion kicking in, and still, the tension between you and Miguel seems more evident than ever.

He’s right there, your boss. The one you so stupidly kissed.

You debate whether to say something but find yourself empty with words. What more could you gain from this situation other than relentless overthinking? A soft "Goodnight," leaves your lips without another thought before you fall asleep.

Miguel, on the other hand, can't sleep. You're right there, mere inches away, resting like nothing. His mind circles back to when he agreed to stay back with you. Why he agreed, well, he was still unsure of it himself. The more he dwells on it, the deeper he contemplates. "She's tackled missions alone before," he mutters, a quiet scoff escaping as he props himself against the bed frame.

He glances down to his left, tuned into your soft breathing, looking at how you wrapped yourself tightly with the motel bedsheets as if to build a barrier. Your open hand lies there, fingers extended as though waiting for someone's grasp. Yet, what captures his attention is your shivering form, which, despite the high temperature in the room, still appeared cold. 

"That's not normal..." he murmurs, eyes narrowing in concern. By now, your body should have naturally regulated itself, your immune system preventing any potential sickness. A common cold due to the rain should be a minor inconvenience for someone like you. Then again, your condition has been less than optimal lately.

Extending his arm, Miguel gingerly presses his palm to your forehead. Your skin felt ice cold against his touch, prompting a slight part of your lips at the feeling of something warm. 

Something wasn't right, and Miguel had a good idea as to the root cause. Inhaling through his nose, he deliberated his next course of action. Carefully, he shifts your body closer to his own, watching as you bristle in discomfort.

"Lyla, state her condition," he mumbles, his watch initiating a scan on you.

Lyla's holographic interface materialized above Miguel's wrist, her calm voice breaking the silence. "Analyzing... Body temperature is abnormally low, and there are signs of a suppressed immune response. External factors appear to be impacting her body's resistance against infections."

Miguel frowns, absorbing the information.

"How far along has her system deteriorated?"

"Her genetic strands seem to have undergone further merging with the dimensional atoms' components from our last scan."

"To what degree?"

"The dispersion has reached approximately thirty-eight percent."

Miguel exhales heavily. He understood the pressing need to find a solution. Despite his inclination to steer clear of any personal involvement with you, he couldn't ignore the gravity of your situation. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize when you had woken up.

"Maybe I should make a habit of sleeping more often if it results in you coming close," you say, eyes studying how he cradled you. 

Miguel's head snaps up upon hearing your voice, his hands instinctively releasing you. "I didn't mean to wake you."

You shift slightly. "What were you doing?" you ask curious.

"I was just... checking on you."

"Right... and that requires me on your lap because....?" 

"Because you're not well," his hands grab you by your face, the abruptness of it causing you to falter, further losing your balance against him.

You freeze, your heart racing rapidly as your body sprawls over his. Miguel's hands lingered against your face -- Why was he still touching you?

"You know," you breathe out, "This kind of closeness is what led to that kiss in the first place," you finish quietly, words trembling slightly.

He swallows audibly, his expression something you can't quite decipher, or more like believe. His thumb grazes your cheek, your breath hitching at his touch. The warmth exchanged between you is palpable, and instinctively, you lean into his touch for a fleeting moment. But it remains just that — a moment. 

You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, though it's difficult when his gaze is unwavering.

"Your condition is deteriorating," he murmurs.

You blink, still not putting any distance between the two. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," he asserts, subtly drawing your entire body closer to his.

A gasp escapes you as your legs instinctively straddle him, your hands settling onto his shoulders as he finds their place on your hips. Your narrowed eyes lock onto his, a deep exhale reflecting the confusion within you.

"You can't just pull something like this and expect me not to react," you accuse him.

Everything about this got under your skin. Logically, you should be pushing Miguel away right now. But you weren't thinking, your thoughts were anything but logical at the moment. Was Miguel toying with you? You didn't know. And although you did attempt to pull yourself from his grasp, his hands trailed up your waist, their firm hold anchoring you in place.

“What do you want from me?”

Miguel parts his lips, eyes drifting downward.

“Miguel if you can’t-“

“I want to hate you,” his fingers flex around you. “I want to hate you for making me question my decisions, for getting under my skin even though you shouldn’t, for insisting on working with me.”

He lifts your chin gently. “Ever since the last time, every time I'm near you, I- you tempt me to repeat the very thing you initiated.”

You blink.

Somehow you didn’t expect him to be even remotely honest right now.

So why? 

You rest your forehead against his, hands clenching before finally withdrawing.

“I need to think,” You distance yourself from him, catching Miguel off guard by your response.

You grab your suit from the chair near the heater where it was left to dry, proceeding to the bathroom to change. As you come out your demeanor is composed, your mask concealing your gaze to avoid any direct eye contact with him.

“Hobie will arrive tomorrow to assist with the mission,” you inform him while opening up a portal. Your back is turned to him, your posture subtly tense. “I’m going to spend some time in my dimension. I — both of us should take some time.” 

Miguel watches you silently, somewhat disoriented by your reaction. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off sensing his intention.

“Don’t worry about my problem,” you clear your throat. “I’ll take care of it,” You nod subtly.

“Y/N-“

“Bye Miguel,” you murmur, finally stepping through the portal and leaving him alone.

[drghostwrite]

so I’ve noticed you’ve written for both criminal minds and x-files,

would you write smth where the reader used to work on the x-files but dosent anymore and is new to the bau and one one of the cases it’s clear it’s not a normal case and they r kinda like “omfg-“

sorry if this dosent make sense ignore if so and if you don’t wanna do this or have anything to do with it ^^”

omg this is a perfect idea and I just rewatched the episode of criminal minds where the psychic is being used and JJ ends up enlisting his help. Though I did a Dana Scully x reader relationship bc why not two independent strong women and I made reader like a unit chief from all the expertise they would bring. I really hope you like it, though there will most likely be multiple parts bc I LOVE this idea, please request more in the future my little genius.

Pairing: Criminal minds BAU x reader

Summary: Reader is was assinged to the X-files, after a heated realtionship with Dana scully you transferred to another team allowing the two of you to be together. One case triggers your past memories but did you realize it to late or did you come to in time to save another life.

********************************************************

You ran a hand through your hair, your tired eyes were red from exhaustion. The coffee had gone cold so you exchanged it for a cold redbull in the fridge which had since grown warm. The mental exertion of this case was taking its toll on your team. You checked your phone again, no new notifications, you lingered on the picture displaying, you and Dana, you were leaned back against her, head turned up as she had a hand gently placed on your cheek her lips pressed to yours, a perfect pairing. You wanted nothing more than to have her wrapped in your arms, soft lips on yours as her warmth seeped into your bones, yet here you were 23 hours in, 5 victims, and no leads.

You walked out of your office and down the hall to the large conference room that your team now occupied, they were bouncing ideas off of each other, files splayed across the table as some wrote quick notes, you could hear the furious typing of Penelope Garcia as she stared holes through her laptop, she was fact checking as Emily and Rossi threw more ideas into the mix. JJ sat on the edge of the table watching as they talked amongst themselves, quickly she made her way over to you as you stepped into the doorway.

"Hey..." she spoke softly.

"Hey, how's it going in here?" you motioned your head towards the group.

"Honestly we're grasping at straws here, I don't think we have any real leads."

"Hmm..." you said as you turned to walk back to your office motioning your head for her to come with, she followed close behind. You dug through the stack of files behind your desk pulling out the newest victim.

"What's this?" she asked sinking into the chair in front of your desk.

"Victim number five." you spoke softly.

"Five, have you shown this to the team yet?"

"Nope, I got it faxed in only an hour ago and after looking over it so far it's no help." you sat down into your chair.

"I think we need to present this..."

"Yes but, all we have is the same signature but the killings aren’t the same...I wanted to see if the team had any more ideas.” You rubbed the stress lines forming on your forehead.

"So far no but it can't hurt..." she trailed looking over the file. you stood to walk back out of your office, she followed closely behind and as you stepped out, something caught your eye, turning and looking down into the bullpen you saw a man. A man that JJ recognized as Stanley Usher, "Mr. Usher." She greeted the tall man.

"Miss Jennifer Jareau, I would ask how things have been but by the energy this place carries not good." he said looking over to you, despite his strong demeanor he had very kind eyes.

"You my dear, have a very strong energy about you." he smiled at you. you gave a small smile back.

"Mr. Usher this is our unit chief, SSA Pierce."

"Mmm," he nodded approvingly, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Pierce, if I may..."

"It's miss and you may..."

"Pardon me I thought with the ring." he gestured towards your hand, where you wore a white silicone ring.

"Not married, just..."

"I see, well I'm sure you will be soon, any woman would be lucky to have you..." You looked at JJ thinking maybe she told him about Dana but she quickly assured you that she hadn't said anything.

"I only stopped to drop something off for Miss Jareau but, then I saw you. Whatever case you're working you need fresh eyes, a particular redhead might be able to help you out," he said smiling before taking his leave. You turned towards JJ, who shrugged utterly confused by the situation.

"Go present to the team... I have a phone call to make." you quickly handed her the file, returning to your office where you picked up your cell dialing Scully. It rung a few times before you finally heard her voice, deep and raspy laced with sleep.

"Y/N?..." she whispered.

"Hey baby, I'm sorry to wake you."

"No it's okay... are you okay?" she asked a small bit of concern slipping in.

"Well... um, not exactly, we found another victim..."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yea, me too... But that's not why I called... Dana I need a second set of eyes on this, the team is worn thin and I really need you."

"Okay, I can be there in 20 minutes."

"Thank you, I'll brief you when you get here."

"You'll get him Y/N... I'm proud of you, I love you."

"I love you too." you ended the call quickly gathering everything to brief her when she arrives.

---time jump---

20 minutes later you heard a small knock on your door before you heard the click of the lock and it slowly swung open, a small amount of light seeped in as she stepped into the room, the only light in your office was the lamp on your desk and the one on the table next to your couch, the couch that you were currently curled up on, you felt her hands press into your shoulders and wrap around to your front, one hand covering your heart as she rested her head on your shoulder her forhead against the side of your head.

"Dana..." you slowly whispered your voice threatening to break from exhaustion, and frustration.

"It's okay, I know..." you pulled apart. She looked at the file splayed across your desk, picking up a few of the pictures and comparing them.

"Hey did you say if your guy has been doing surveillance on anyone."

"Not that we know, why?"

"Just cause this looks an awfully lot like one of your agents and this one too..." she said holding up the pictures next to the large group picture you had of the team.

“Oh my God… that’s it… you’re a genius.” You said shooting up out of your chair and kissing her, “Dana Scully you are an absolute genius and love of my life.” You smiled at her as she shyly smiled back.

You quickly turned running down the hall to where the rest of the team resided… “I got it!” You exclaimed a little too excited, they all looked at you as if they had been jolted with electricity.

“He’s building a team…”

“Rebuilding the BAU?” Emily questioned looking at the pictures on the monitor.

“Can’t be, we don’t have a red head…” Rossi trailed.

“But Y/N did…” Dana spoke up and they all looked behind you to see her standing there.

“Team this is Dana, babe this is the team.” They all waved no time for introduction.

“What I mean is Y/N you were in charge of a team…” before she could finish you were sorting the pictures.

“Oh God he’s building my teams… Dana…” you motioned towards 5 grouped pictures on the wall Scully and Mulder, along with Emily, JJ and Spencer look alikes all plastered on the screen. “The team I worked with during the X files and my team now he’s rebuilding them, killing them and then staging them at these crime scenes…which means at least 4 more victims.”

“but cause of death is always different?”

“it’s our weakest cases… look..” Dana pointed to the redhead, the way the victim was posed was identical to a case that almost killed her, and she ended up taking leave shortly after to recover before returning to the field.

“And the gifts?” Jj asked motioning to the second board where pictures and evidence bags sat holding gifts that had been delivered to everyone, some at the office and others at various locations.

“Get the correct order that we were all sent the gifts I guarantee it coordinates with the victims… he’s dangling this right in front of our face.”

“on it!” Answered Reid, JJ, and Emily at the same time.

“Garcia once they did this I want everything compiled anyone that would’ve had access to our cases and reports, and that bought something like this,” you pointed to the tokens displayed in the room, a variety of “gifts” that the unsub has left.

[onlyseokmins]

A/N: don't even ask me where this came from I was doing dishes and had a THOT when I should be doing other things 😔 anyways tw: for degradation and slapping mostly just in case. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I might elaborate on this in an actual fic so getting this out of my system and archiving for later maybe 😉

Coworker Jeonghan who keeps sending not so subtle glances over at you during a company outing. Your secretary and best friend catches his action and snorts, shaking her head. Meanwhile, the giggling interns and newer employees you oversee all stare at you starstruck, their respectable senior, for also catching the attention of such a handsome man.

"How do you know him?" they flock to you and ask, although they're genuinely curious. "Do you know him or is he your secret admirer?"

"Not so secret now."

You glare at Mina. "We used to date in high school and well into college until he decided to take an offer overseas."

"So you're a couple?"

"We were. Obviously we broke up when LDR inevitably failed."

The promising new hire you've been keeping an eye on sighs wistfully. "Old flames never die, do they?"

"We're just coworkers. Acquaintances even. We both agreed to split on amicable terms."

"You're so cool," they gush enthusiastically, "not to have feelings anymore and be so professional."

"As expected of our leader!"

"The ultimate role model in the office!"

You can't help but thrive off of their praise, clinking your glass of water to their alcoholic ones. You smile brightly with your best work attitude, ignoring the dark look Jeonghan is sending your way.

It doesn't matter because you know he'll meet you in the hotel after at precisely 10 'o clock. He's never late and hates to wait.

That's why you're ready by 9:55, sharp. Blouse unbuttoned and skirt riding past your ass, presenting yourself prettily on the bed. Dripping pussy soaking your tiny lace thong faces the door, the first thing Jeonghan sees when he barges through.

He sighs harshly through his nose, though grunts in approval at seeing you just how he likes. The first thing on the docket once you're within reach is to deliver a harsh slap across your ass. The sting makes you moan yet you're already seeing stars when he tears away the scrap of fabric barely concealing your puffy clit. Again.

"Sucking up all that praise from your juniors. What was it? Being calm and collected? Cool-headed? About me?" He scoffs. "A shame I'm the only one who knows the truth."

"I just bought that pair," you complain and try to conceal your smile when he slaps you again.

"Then don't act up," Jeonghan mutters. He frowns, knowing how much you're actually enjoying this and grips the back of your neck, urging you to rise up on your knees. Back flush against his chest, he whispers in your ear. "And tell me the truth."

"I'm a slut. I love being degraded."

"That's right," he drops you forward again, fingers brushing against your bare cunt. "And whose slut are you?"

"Yours."

"And who do you like being degraded by?"

"You!"

He smirks at your elated gasp, the pretty way your arch your back as when he eases a finger inside your warm pussy.

"And who jumped on me the minute my feet touched down on our home turf? Begged me to come apply to their company so I could fuck them like I never left inside their office? Every. Fucking. Lunch break."

He punctuates those last four winders by stuffing you full of his fingers, pausing so you'll answer him. Pussy already clenching at the memories of bouncing on his dick in your leather office chair during a conference call.

Poor Mina.

"Me!"

"That's right. Desperate whore. No one can satisfy this pathetic pussy better than I can, huh?"

"You're right," you sob out in ecstacy when he begins to slide his fingers back and forth only to leave your hole altogether.

Jeonghan moves from the side of the bed to the other and sits down, loosening his tie. He waits for you to crawl over like you know how to, despite your trembling limbs. Shaking hands already reaching for the zipper on his dress pants but he swats them away.

"Then prove I'm right. How much you want me always," he hisses and presses your mouth against the bulge of his dick hidden in his pants. "Take it out with your mouth, slut. If you're desperate enough, you'll be able to, won't you?"

You're already getting to work, eyes shining and focused on the prize. He sighs in relief when your lips wrap around him, running a hand through his blonde bangs.

"That's my pretty slut."

[shywhumpauthor]

Leave

I don’t know I hate this a lot

Cw: implied past torture/abuse, recovery, anxiety, a bit of an emotionally abusive and generally mean whumpee, patient Caretaker

Whumpee drummed their fingers against their knee, unable to keep their leg from bouncing as the nerves made every inch of their skin crawl.

Hell, they didn’t know what they were so nervous for. There was nothing, no good reason for them to be so fucking anxious, but they were. Their stomach twisted itself into knots, making it impossible for them to keep down more than a few sips of water and maybe some crackers every so often. Their thoughts were so scattered they couldn’t trace what was causing their trouble, only circling back time and time again to how something was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Hey, bud, are you okay?” A soft voice, paired with a careful hand against Whumpee’s shoulder nearly sent them jumping out of their skin, a sharp jolt tugging them away. “Crap, Whumpee, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

“It’s fine,” Whumpee swallowed, rushing the words out a moment later. The sudden contact had sent a spike of adrenaline prickling along every nerve, static humming through their limbs as they tried to shake the instinctual fight or flight response they had defaulted back to. “I’m fine, you didn’t.”

Caretaker frowned, but it wasn’t the kind of disappointed, dissatisfied frown Whumpee was so used to—from Teammate and Leader and Co-worker, ever since Whumpee had gotten back from their mission, a big red unsuccessful stamp scrawled across the file, the only looks they ever seemed to get anymore were those of “what the hell os wrong with you? You had one simple job and you screwed that up.” Or the pitying glances, from their nicer teammates, like Medic and Youngest. Whumpee could argue, though, those felt considerably worse. They could handle being branded a failure, but being looked at like they were helpless, destined to do nothing but mess things up, weak and fucking pathetic, that fucked with them.

But that wasn’t how Caretaker was looking at them now. There was something else, and Whumpee wasn’t sure if they would have preferred disdain over the dreaded concern.

“Are you feeling alright?” Caretaker stepped around the side of the couch, moving forwards to press the back of their palm to Whumpee’s forehead—which was quickly swatted away. “You’re looking a bit pale, are you warm?”

“No, no I’m fine,” Whumpee batted away Caretaker’s hand again, clambering to the further couch cushion to avoid the pestering figure. “Shouldn’t you be at the meeting or whatever?”

It was bitchy of them, but they couldn’t keep the bite from their tone. The bitter twist of their mouth, the jealousy edging into their words. The team meeting they hadn’t been invited to. You’ll be invited to the next one, Whumpee. Just go back to your quarters and rest for now, who knows you clearly need it.

“Leader had an urgent conference with [Other Organization Leader], so they pushed it,” Caretaker explained, rocking back onto their heels while they looked at Whumpee with an unreadable expression. “Why don’t you lay back, Whumpee, I’ll make you some tea. You look like you could use some rest-”

“I could use nothing,” Whumpee shook their head, voice thick and nearly shaking. “Don’t bother.”

Caretaker’s mouth twitched, their frown deepening for a moment before softening.

“I’ll turn the kettle on. You don’t have to have any, but they’ll be an extra cup in the kitchen if you’d like to join me,” Caretaker eventually settled on that, stepping back to turn to the kitchen.

“I said don’t bother.” Whumpee snapped, their voice raising as they twisted around on the couch. “Just… just leave, okay?! I don’t want you here anymore.”

Caretaker hesitated, looking over at Whumpee as their lips pressed together. Whumpee only glared back, a heat beginning to spark in their gut. Fuck, they knew it was Caretaker’s assignment, as the stupid medical assistant. As Medic’s shadow, their job was to stay with Whumpee, to care for them while they recovered or whatever bullshit.

“Are you fucking stupid? Just leave already!” Whumpee spat, their hands curling into fists before slamming down against the couch cushion. “Get the fuck out.”

Caretaker didn’t move for a long moment, not turning from where they had begun to walk to the kitchenette. When they did, they spoke quietly, their tone indifferent as it had been before, caring and gentle. They looked back and offered Whumpee a small smile.

“Alright, Whumpee. I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

And then they left, walking out the main door and easing it shut behind them.

[forgottenthreads]

My white whale of Humans are Space orcs.... There's definitely a concept in here but I don't have a good finish if anyone wants to reblog and run with it I wanna see where it goes

There was something odd going on in the sol system, it wasn't the radio waves or the occasional probes that worried the galactic community this was fairly normal for emerging species. No the oddness was the star changing colour. Once a small fairly unremarkable yellow green star was missing a huge section of its spectral emissions.

They watched and listened to the extraneous data and then the system fell silent.

Rushing across the stars several species were in attendance to the presumed cataclysm wishing to render aid hoping the new species hadn't self-destructed a rare but real occurrence.

Only one of the species could be called anything close to humanoid, with trilateral symmetry the creature stood a meter tall with 6 legs and 3 arms each with 3 fingers or toes and 3 joints topped by a head with 3 eyes each pointing in a different direction. Tertia

Another alien was more cepheloid, 12 long tentacles spreading out from a central mass each one terminated by a pair of almost reptilian red eyes, the closest earth species might be starfish spider mashup. Astra

The third was suspended from the ceiling in a comfortable environment, they seemed to float and bounce off each surface like a balloon only occasionally pressing themselves against the glass to get a better sense of the environment, they were indistinguishable in some ways from a volleyball with a mind of it's own. Wiz

There were others connected by telepresence to the conference some were of shared evolutionary trees with those presents but many were not and there were species in absentia because of environmental factors like a lack of gravity or an inability to sustain the necessary pressures.

It took a few moments to share the relevant data before the computer started providing translated greetings

Astra: I've been looking at the data as we get closer to the system any star in the shadow of the system has a similar shift in colour to sol with varying intensity, I believe the effect is centred at Sol with a radius around 1 Quetta.

Wiz: So whatever it is remains in system. Have we detected any residual transmissions from the humans?

Astra: radio? No but light, yes. I've detected light consistent with artificial lighting on sol 2, sol 3 and it's primary, sol 4, many of the bodies in sol 5 and even the primary, secondary, tertiary and quandary of sol 6.

Tertia: It seems the density of sol 5 and the rings of sol 6 are significantly different from our previous observations and the transmitted data that we intercepted from the local species. I also agree with the analysis of one Quetta, the colour distortion means this may be a shell of some sort at that distance

Wiz: should we proceed with the expedition to that distance?

Tertia: I recommend slowing down a shell could pose significant risk but we should continue, the shell might not be continuous

Astra: there must be some of the shell between us and the primary or we'd detect no colour change, given that we've never detected a reversion only a gradual increase of the effect I suspect we're looking at at least one continuous layer perhaps several but not discontinuous sections.

Tertia: I will look at your data.

Wiz: slow to a stop within one exa of the boundary and then make a new determination?

Several of the extant membership of the conference provided data for Tertia and Astra and there was a short vote before the fleet of 10 ships began to decelerate.

It took another few months to close the gap and as they did the effect seemed to amplify nearest to them almost blotting out sol and all data from the system.

An aquatic alien requested the second full conference.

Marina with excitement the moment everyone was there: algae

Wiz: what?

Astra: you.... Hmmm... ?!

Marina: it's growing in response to our engine output, literally growing, there's a biofilm out there absorbing usable parts of the spectrum to sustain life. It's an algae bloom

Tertia: conjecture and supposition

Astra: that could explain the visible anomaly but the radio?

Marina: that might be down to thickness or structure, or even materials, tHN or dHO based life from would naturally block some of the most common frequency bands this species chose.

Astra: plausible

Tertia: where is your evidence?

Marina: gut instinct, I recognise this effect, we see it around volcanoes and hot methane vents as well as older technologies.

Wiz: your objection has been noted Tertia... If this is a biofilm we might be significantly out on our estimates to distance, can anyone do a hull contamination screen? We might have hit something already.... It doesn't hurt to check and it could confirm the theory.

Tertia huffs

AI: analysis complete several species of microbiota have been detected, carbon based, ribonucleosides, dihydrogen monoxide, chlorophylls.

Marina: I think that is conclusive, we should be able to swim right through the bubble without much impedance.

Wiz: so long as we don't accelerate too hard I'd agree.

Astra: the biology is fascinating, it looks like there are several species working in concert to make the biofilm, there's something analogous to algae, absorbing many frequencies of light and creating energy dense hydrocarbons, another turns the hydrocarbons into heat to maintain liquid dHO, a third species seems specialised in transporting suspended particles while a fourth provides a chitinous layer to protect from vacuum. There are several minor species too who's roles can't be easily identified. This may be the answer to why the star turned green. But how and why it got here?

Tertia: It must have come from in system the nearest recorded carbon based life is several systems away, and if it'd come here from there this wouldn't be the first infection we'd seen

Marina: I wonder where the materials are coming from, a biofilm even a few kilo to giga thick is going to require a massive source of core materials, Hydrogen might be captured from stellar wind but carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, those are limited in interplanetary medium

Tertia: at this distance there should be an accumulation of space debris, from pebbles to comets. They might have provided a transport mechanism from the inner system and materials.

Astra: and the captured dHO is likely what's blocking local radio signals, the local's preferred frequencies tend to be in the right range for that to provide significant attenuation.

Wiz: so this may be a misunderstanding rather than a problem? Do we continue?

Tertia: I think we have to, even if it's an accident the danger this poses to us is clear we don't want the film infecting other systems preventing communication and it might be causing the locals issues we cannot detect from here.

Astra: I agree, if this has infected the asteroid belt and inner system it could provide significant impairment to advancing past K1 and joining the galactic community.

*it would take a few months to pass through the layers of biofilm and a week to thoroughly decontaminate the assembled fleet before acceleration into the system and then decelerating to planetary speeds between Saturn and Jupiter.The rings of Saturn looked highly contaminated and Jupiter's 4 moons had their own traffic independent of the rocky worlds, several vehicles were recorded traveling between asteroid's in the belt and between the inner rocky worlds, there were even transmissions detected from the inner system, several directed at them. There were still locals in the system.*

Wiz: well that answers if there's any survivors. Do we have any translations yet?

AI: there are several sources, one is sending prime numbers. Another is the Messier 13 transmission. There's encoded voices in several languages. The aggregate message is "we are human who are you?" Though I should highlight these signals are largely ... unauthorized. No official transmissions have been received.

Wiz: it's not a question of if we reply but what we reply.

Tertia: there are several prepared responses to Messier 13 in the library

Astra: I think we should just communicate we're intelligent and let them take the lead

Wiz: so not "we come in peace" then!

Astra: only if you want us blasted, probably irradiated I'm picking up trace evidence of both fission and fusion on several planets in the inner system as well as several of their craft.

Tertia: looks like 3A is the primary home though 3B, 4 and 5A-F all have ongoing communication of some sort, 1 and 2 are harder to determine given our angle, while 6B-E are communicating with each other but not the rest, it's mostly local communication but we are still picking up reflected signals. Here and there

Marina: looks like there are several locations which may be sources for the biofilm we encountered, I think either one of the orbital structures in the 3 system or one of the 5 series objects are most likely.

Tertia: or any of the other vehicles or an accidental contaminant from any mission. An impact, a comet...

Wiz: Tertia!

Marina: most likely doesn't rule out other possibilities. I'll admit my data has error bars, but a comet would be a reasonable transportation method from inner system to where we encountered the stuff, unless it was deliberately put there.

AI: we are recieving an incoming transmission from joint space agencies and multiple global authorities, an observatory 37.76 degrees off axis. There are a series of bootstraped communication and then

Humanity: on behalf of the people of humanity I the leader of the united nations formally acknowledge your arrival to our solar system. We request your orbit remains beyond our 5th Planet, Jupiter

AI interjecting: according to our records they mean planet system 6 but it is not possible to reconcile the error in their counting

Humans: while we establish a diplomatic dialogue. If you wish to contact us we have reserved this frequency and have several of our recieving stations tuned in. We are preparing a series of messages to be sent periodically.

Astra: is it possible to create a similar sort of packet to bootstrap translation on their side?

Tertia: how accurate is the bootstrap compared to our historical records of their transmissions?

AI: Yes, but it is advised to pick a single language for this side of the discussion. The error rate between the historical records and their broadcast is between 10 and 30 percent, often these errors are made for simplicity but there has been time for their language to evolve during the voyage after their blackout.

Wiz: pick the language that is most similar to their own and prepare a response. Meanwhile we should decide on a course

The next few days were a flurry of messages between the crews of the assembled ships and humanity. Messages taking many minutes to broadcast, as much as an hour to be received and then hours to decide debated on both sides before replies were generated. Very few of the crew got uninterrupted rest for their desired sleep periods. Only Wiz was able to remain alert the whole time.

Aliens: we came because your system seemed to be undergoing some sort of disaster

Humanity: disaster?

Aliens: do you not see how the light from the rest of the universe is tinted?

Humanity: we thought that was an accumulation of errors within our equipment and methodology, we simply recalibrated our instrumentation

Aliens: Your star looks green to the rest of the galaxy, we were curious to why but your civilization went silent from our perspective

Humanity: silent? How so, we haven't changed anything about our transmissions if anything we're getting louder

Aliens: none of your transmissions were escaping your system

Humanity: do you know why?

Aliens: we passed through a section of bio-active material within your outer system. Details enclosed

Humanity: stand by

Humanity: stand by

Humanity: stand by

Humanity: this looks like Lichen in some ways. Lichen is an organism that's made up of fungi and algae, details enclosed, perhaps fused with another species or two or massive mutation. We had an accident with our ISS before it's decommission nearly a century ago. Loss of pressure may have lead to lichen being in orbit of earth.

Aliens: this seems to match our observations and samples well. We need to prevent the infection from leaving your system and contaminating other stars.

Humanity: we understand your concerns. We are worried about the impact this may have had within our own system on our neighbouring planets. But we do not have the ability to substantially help.

Aliens: stand by

Humanity: do you have any suggestions?

Aliens: several, are we permitted to tie into your information grid? It would help us assess what technology you can assist with.

Humanity: that troubles us.

Aliens: any method for removing the infestation would necessarily be a potential weapon on a scale you are not yet capable of. We wish to fully evaluate your species to see if we should share our tech or if your own species has speculated on something we could use.

Humanity: we understand, but it is one sided, we would like to see your available data.

Aliens: we can make our cultural archives available for you to study via the same network connection and we will also leave you with a duplicate of this data when we leave the system.

Humanity: agreed

Aliens: we suggest building a stellaser array to target locations on paths to existing stars in the short term and a collection of small craft that could collect materials in the "Oort cloud" and also autoclave any collected bio matter

Humanity: we don't necessarily have the ability to create the control systems for those things. Also the building of those satellites and craft is going to take a long time.

Aliens: we can help. We have an AI which could model and design the whole process including designing control systems, see attached

Humanity:

Aliens: we repeat, we can help. We have an AI which could model and design the whole process including control systems, see attached.

AI: several intercepted transmissions are concerned about our intentions and capabilities having shared such powerful technology several instances of the plans being retransmitted from seemingly unauthorised parties have been recorded.

And that's where my brain runs out of steam after working on this for like 6 weeks (this was the big one I posted about before)

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Missing Tess and Joel today, it's been a long week.

Got any fun drabbles of them just having a good time, whether it's DD or SQ. I'm not picky.

Hope your time off was fun!

Hello! It has been a long week and I've missed writing! I hope this week is kinder for you!

The Legend of Charro is getting an update sometime today but Snowqueen will be a bit further away. However, here's a deleted scene from Snowqueen that I hope scratches the itch!

This was originally happening in Chapter 5. Instead of going to the last day of the conference they do this instead, but I changed my mind and went in a different direction.

“Do you want to go swimming?”

Joel paused.  He didn’t think he’d heard right.  “Swimming?”

“Yeah, there’s a pool.  I saw the label in the lift.”

He glanced toward the podium.  “Sure.”

Getting upstairs was not a problem.  They had turned in their keycards, but all they had to do was wait for someone else to use the elevator and press the button after they’d swiped them in.  The pool was completely empty of guests. Windows poured in light along two sides and sparkled across the surface of the very still, inviting-looking water.  Beneath these were a row of deckchairs, striped navy and white.  Tess retrieved two towels from the shelves as they walked in and passed one to Joel.  He glanced around for cameras.

“Relax, we’re allowed to be here.”

“Not really, Tess.”

“Nobody’s coming to check our hall passes.  They’ve got their hands full, turning all those rooms over and keeping the conference humming.  It’s just us.”  She took off her jacket and stepped out of her heels.

“You’re changing here?”

“I don’t have anything to change into,” she reminded him, smiling. 

“Jesus, Tess.”

“Neither do you.”

“… okay, that’s a fair point.”

Tess removed her jewellery, nesting it into a fold of her handbag.  With the flight looming ahead of them, she had not worn anything beneath her dress that would make that any more uncomfortable than it promised to be.  Her stockings were ordinary sheer to waists, which was definitely safer than the other confidence-boosters she had sandwiched in her luggage.  Tess took off her dress and the stockings and laid them across the deck chair.  She looked across at Joel, smiling.

“You okay over there, Texas?”

“It’s nothing you didn’t already see this morning.”

She turned her back as he unbuckled his belt because that was just a bit too much, even for her.  She started down the steps into the pool.  The water tickled her ankles.  Her bra was lacy black and her briefs rose red, embellished with a teardrop cut into the back.  She did not look back but pushed herself off the last step, taking a lazy breaststroke into the centre of the pool. 

The water’s cool embrace soothed her.  She never felt so as peace as she did when she was this buoyant and light.  She preferred the ocean, tempestuous and traitorous, requiring her full attention to resist the riptide.  It was the only place she could really stop thinking – without the assistance of something medicinal, that was. 

She turned as Joel entered the water, disappearing beneath the surface.  He emerged further up from her, shaking the hair out of his eyes and sending droplets flying.  He looked good wet.  She watched him float up on to his back and take a few deep breaths.  Tess submerged her nose and mouth beneath the water.  His blue boxer briefs left nothing to her very vivid imagination.  She blew bubbles and turned away, taking a few more lazy strokes to stretch the kinks out of her body.

“You have good ideas,” Joel’s voice bounced off the tiles.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 22

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Matt and Foggy gear up for court while you continue to help Karen behind the scenes

"When's the trial set?" Alice asked while the two of you finished doing inventory of your rig for the next shift coming in. "Jury selection was today. I'm headed to their office as soon as I get off" you replied double checking the narcan to ensure there was enough. 

 Alice was quiet for a moment so you glanced over at her "Spill Alice. I know there's something bouncing around your head begging to escape" she let out a harsh breath seeming to struggle with what she wanted to say next or the wording at least "Y/N I just want to make sure you're safe. I mean.." Her voice lowered to a whisper and she leaned across the gurney as if she was worried someone walking by the ambulance in the bay may overhear what she was going to say next.

You leaned forward instinctively before she continued in a whisper "Apparently you were right all along. There was a lot more to that day than was told publicly. If Frank doesn't want you testifying there's a reason and as your friend and partner I feel like I need to give voice to the concern of whoever was behind that day figuring out what you know or suspect and coming after you. I know you want to be there for Frank, I get it but what do you think it'll do to him if he loses you to whatever this is? What do you think it would do to me, Kenzie and Curtis?" 

What were you supposed to say? That you weren't worried about just that? Hell that would be a lie. You knew that at any given time whoever was behind the enormous cover up could find you through the same channels Karen had even before Foggy and Matt told her who you were. You knew that no matter the fear that you couldn't exactly cower either that wasn't who you were.

You also couldn't exactly tell her that one of Frank's lawyers was none other than daredevil either and that gave you some extra security at least while in his presence. Add that to the list of things you had to keep tight to your chest.

So you went with the only card you had to play "I'm going by what Frank asked of me. I'm keeping my face out of the public spotlight. Karen, Matt and Foggy are the faces. I'm behind the scenes where I have promised you, Frank and Curt I will remain. You're not getting rid of me that easily babe" 

She smiled softly "Good. I'd hate to have to break in a new partner and there's no one on earth like you" you started to say the same about her but when she added "Promise me you'll start carrying that gun when you aren't on shift. I know he made sure you can handle it" you cracked a small smile "Yes ma'am. I promise"

--------------------

When Kenzie came to pick Alice up you knew it was lost cause telling the two of them that you could walk home then take a cab to the law firm. 

They insisted on driving you to your apartment to change into street clothes and then drove you to the law firm as well.  When you started to climb out the car Alice cleared her throat and nodded to your bag. You knew what she was asking so you patted it. "I'll call one of you later ok? I promise" "stay safe sweetie" Kenzie said with a smile and Alice added "We love you"

------------------

When you walked through the doors of the office Foggy leaned out from the conference room "Y/N you may as well join us and give an opinion" you weren't surprised that you'd yet again caught Foggy mid sentence yet he was acting as if you'd been there the entire time. He had a habit of doing that but you hadn't known him long enough to tell if it was just with you or an everybody type of thing.

You smiled at Karen and told Matt hello as you took a seat next to Foggy. "Ok what am I giving an opinion on?" Karen and Foggy exchanged a look when Matt spoke up to say "Will Frank agree to an insanity plea?" 

You didn't try to stop the laugh that bubbled from your lips. Karen looked a bit confused, Foggy looked flustered and Matt seemed just slightly amused.

You knew staring down a normal blind man wouldn't do any good but something told you Matt could tell how ridiculous you found that suggestion "Look I'll be honest if I thought it'd keep him out of prison I've got a friend whose a psychiatrist but Frank's not gonna agree to that. He wasn't out of his mind. He knew who he was going after and he knew why. I just don't think he's gonna say yes but please by all means if you think it'll help him chase that lead. I'm pretty much here just to tell you about who the real Frank is and to help dig through case files"

Matt nodded then scratched at the back of his neck "Well since you're here Y/N can you think of anyone Frank would let us put on the witness stand?" You knew he didn't want you or Curtis anywhere near the courthouse, not that you could testify to any ptsd defense considering you only knew half stories of what had went down overseas.

Billy's name popped into your head but you shoved it down, if he had wanted to help he would've already offered it before now. "His commanding officer is still alive? Schoonover I don't remember his first name. He'd testify as a character witness for Frank and could speak as to what went down when Frank was awarded the Navy cross" 

Karen scribbled a note down then smiled across the table at you "That's good Y/N" then she cut her eyes at Foggy "I'll go talk to Frank. Bring up the ptsd and insanity plea and also get Schoonover's first name" Foggy nodded at her then motioned to you "Look over these questions before they're took to Frank?" You stood to follow him into his office.

You glanced over the questions and shrugged "I don't see why he'd have trouble answering any. I mean his memory is still a little off from the bullet to the head but Foggy Frank's not a bad guy. He's not a psychopath" he took the notepad back from you and stared down at it for a moment before he finally met your eyes "You feel like hanging around? Give me some of the insight on Frank that you've given Karen?"

You let a small smile slip onto your face. Something told you Foggy wouldn't go down in a courtroom without one hell of a fight "Of course"

---------------------

You were sitting cross legged on the floor by Foggy's desk. Matt had left on some errand or another, you and Foggy both knew it was something vigilante related.

You had been going over the photos from multiple different crime scenes. They were the men who had ripped Maria and the kids from the world. You honestly didn't care if they were dead but what had caught your attention was the x-ray of Frank's head.

You'd known he got shot that day, had even seen the scar one of the many nights you patched him up yet seeing the hole in his skull hit you differently. 

Karen had joined the two of you with takeout and was sitting across the room. She'd gotten Schoonover's first name but Frank had said exactly what you expected, no ptsd plea. He'd also sent a message back by her telling you to stay as far away from the trial as you could or he'd refuse representation.

The three of you had been working for hours in silence. Foggy's best idea for a line of defense was to find some way to bring the altered medical examiner's reports into evidence although it appeared any record of the so called ashes you'd been given had been wiped from any record.

"What was he like? I mean before the mass murderery Frank?" Foggy asked and when you cut your eyes up at him he shrugged "Sorry I meant before his family, your family was slaughtered?" You laid the x-ray down and pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth.

Karen saw the real Frank somehow she grasped who he really was and Matt had fought alongside Frank. While Foggy had said there may be a chance if the cover up involving the massacre could be brought to the light you knew you needed to help him see the Frank you knew, the Frank Karen somehow had seen under the rough exterior of the punisher.

"Frank the day I met him was sitting under a tree, strumming a guitar and singing" Karen cracked a broad smile and Foggy looked genuinely shocked "Singing? Was he any good?"

You laughed thinking back to that day long ago "God he was horrible but the moment his eyes met Maria's I saw the spark there. When she got pregnant three months into them dating he stepped up, no hesitation whatever. I was a stray Maria and her family had chosen to take in, Frank was no different he took me as a little sister. That man was one of the best fathers I've even seen. He beat himself up a lot for being gone but when he got stateside god you would've thought it was every holiday rolled into one. He was an amazing husband. He always would call me when he was gone to double check on Maria to make sure she was ok. And it wasn't just Maria and the kids. He was always there for me" you could feel tears threatening to escape your eyes but took a deep breath and continued;

"He'd back me up when I needed it and support me when he knew I could handle it on my own. Frank is and will always be the type of man who'd lay his life down to save innocent lives. He loves with everything he has. The day everything happened I was supposed to go with them, I should've been there. Frank is a trained marine lieutenant. He's handled himself in so many war zones but look at that x-ray. He let himself be shot and you know why? He was holding his daughter in his arms while everything that was her spilled out onto the ground. He wanted to die and the damn universe wouldn't grant him that. He woke up to a world with his family gone and the people who had taken them alive. Hell he's still protecting me by not letting me testify. He's not a murderer he's just a man who's went through hell and is still enduring it every second"

You closed your eyes for a moment trying to compose yourself and when you opened them both Foggy and Karen were staring at you. "What?" "Damn I would love to have you on the witness stand" he admitted which made you and Karen shake your heads.  "No I just meant you know him so well. I mean I get we don't want your life at risk and damn sure can't trust the district attorney but we somehow have to make the jury feel about Frank the way you just described him"

You shrugged and wiped your eyes "Well Mr Nelson I believe that's your job sir. I'm just a paramedic" "Thanks for the vote of confidence Y/N" he replied with an eye roll but the slight smile also told you that your words had an effect on him.

By the time all of you headed out the office to go towards your separate apartments it was leaning closer to morning than night. "Sure you two will be ok?" Foggy asked as you hailed a cab. You smiled at his concern.

"We live a block apart Foggy. We'll be ok I promise" "Yeah don't worry about us" Karen added with a smile.Once the two of you were in the cab a silence fell between you. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but you didn't want to push. 

---------------------

When the cab stopped in front of her building you climbed out with her. "You're walking the other block? This time of night?" She asked and you shrugged "I'll be ok. I can handle myself pretty well" she eyed your bag for a second "Yeah I make sure I don't leave home without mine either"

You realized what she meant and smiled "Frank taught me ages ago" "Goodnight Y/N. I'll talk to you tomorrow" "Night Karen" she started to walk up the steps into her building but you stopped her by calling her name "Yeah?" She asked and you were once again struck with not wanting to over step but also wanting answers "Why do you believe in Frank so much? I mean I know why I'm standing behind him but you have every reason to have believed what the public has built him up to be"

She stood there stoic for a moment and you kicked yourself for apparently hitting a nerve but right when you were about to apologize she said "I don't think he's a monster because he's done things that could be seen as monstrous. I've seen him talk about his wife and kids, the way he talks about you, how he wanted to make sure I knew I wasn't in danger that night at the hospital. It's like you said he's just a man who's been through hell and I like you want to see him make it to the other side"

You knew you should let it go but maybe it was years spent in and out of Curtis' group meetings and hanging out with Kenzie but you felt like there was something more that Karen desperately needed to get off her chest "What happened Karen? I mean to you?"

She half smiled then said "After the trial is over I'll buy the drinks and we can have one night of spilling our trauma all over each other but for now we both need as clear heads as possible for Frank" you nodded then smiled "I'm sorry if I overstepped. One friend is a counselor and the other is a psychiatrist"

"Not at all. I know you wouldn't judge anything I have to say. You're someone who can be trusted. I knew that from the moment I met you" you felt the same about her so you simply said "Well goodnight. I'll send a text when I'm home so you know I wasn't snatched off the street or anything"

"You have a warped sense of humor you know that?" She asked with a laugh so you replied "You'll grow to love that about me" she headed inside so you turned to head to your apartment lost in thought over the trial starting but also keeping observant of your surroundings.

Once you got home you texted Karen you'd made it then texted Alice so she wouldn't worry. You knew you shouldn't but you had plans to catch a few hours then pop into the courthouse the next morning to at least catch opening statements. You'd be working when all the actual testimonies started but you could at least see who got the stronger start and get a peek at Frank to see how he was healing.

@intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[brazenautomaton]

oh here's the missing interstitial / montage scene of Misa showing off how she do and Naomi learning the lesson about paranoia. I am concerned the exposition is too unnaturally dense but don't know if it'd feel any more natural if it was sprinkled in to the dialogue, since Naomi is already making observations

As L, I have a functionally unlimited expense account provided by “the Trust.” But said Trust knows where every dollar goes. We need some money for ourselves, money we can spend on things they don’t know about. Misa makes money from stream subscriptions and donations from playing video games online, but it’s not enough. That’s why Maki-Maru Investigations has come into play.

It turns out I can be a private investigator. It’s not THAT bad. We don’t do marital infidelity investigations, those just made Misa depressed in a way that even murders didn’t. We do just about everything else. We consult with the police sometimes when they need our help -- a setup I learned from an acquaintance in San Francisco. For civilians, we do skip tracing, insurance fraud, corporate sabotage, missing persons, anything the police don’t feel like doing. It’s not like working as L. We get to see things in person, talk to people, gather our own evidence. 

Two Asian women, one of whom is outgoing and energetic, the other of whom is scarred and can’t talk, that’s a <i>very</i> distinct profile to fit. There were already stories -- conflicting and fragmentary ones, sure, but stories -- about Misa Amane and her bodyguard in the Kira investigation. But what was I going to do, tell Misa it wasn’t safe and we couldn’t go out because we’d be made? I had to try harder than that. I had buckets of the Trust’s money laying around, that I didn’t want to spend on myself… so I dug up anyone else in media production who was inspired by that story, and I gave them a bunch of money. You self-published a novel, well, here’s enough money to distribute it. You want to shop a script around the major networks, here’s a mysterious backer who wants to fund both NBC and Fox’s pilots. You make indie comics, how would you like a two year contract to write this premise I came up with?

Now, we weren’t the only people who fit this profile. We weren’t the most super popular archetype in the world, but we were a <i>shtick</i> people could recognize and run across. The bodyguard was always mute, so my occasional aphasic stammering just looked like I was slipping up.  

Misa appreciated the hell out of being able to go out and do stuff with people, and I didn’t as much as her, but just like with the blood, I appreciated how much she appreciated it. That was enough for me. She got to bounce off of people. I got to see her bounce off of people.

This time, corporate sabotage. Someone in this office had been selling proprietary information to a competitor. The company who hired us expected us to take weeks poring over records and financial statements, but we were going to do it in a couple of hours. Misa was going to do it in a couple hours, with my help. I’m her bodyguard. I’m her bodyguard, and she’s my interpreter, and each of us is the other’s assistant in a way I just think is poetic.

“Hey, everybody!” Misa addressed the group of office workers. “Good morning, good morning, how is everyone doing?” Almost, but not quite, like a motivational speaker. Her Japanese accent was light enough to be easily understood but still distinctly notable. The assembled staff didn’t seem to be having a notable enough day to respond.

It was one of these nine people, the corporate office had told us, so we gathered them in a conference room. Well, it was an open-plan office, so it’s more of a central area surrounded by cubicles. The cubicles could provide ample cover if someone started shooting, but escape would be difficult. I took up standing position just outside, where I had line of sight to the elevator and a mirrored glass door propped open to see around the corner to the stairway. When the elevator door lit up, I could pull back behind this file cabinet until I saw if they were armed. Anyone came in shooting, I’d have several seconds of warning. The odds of someone coming in to shoot you are low, but they are never zero.

“Let me introduce myself!” Misa said, and she made a little heart shape with her fingers. “I’m Aiko Maru, from Maki-Maru Investigations! I’m a private eye.” Said it like it was a badge of honor, which it was. One of the two bald guys with glasses looked dubious. I didn’t memorize his name, I didn’t need to. I was just looking at how he walked, how he stood, to determine if he had a weapon. He didn’t. If he decided to just lunge at her with his hands, she was standing far enough away that I could draw my weapon and drop him before he reached her, assuming she ducked for me to make the shot. “Now, I know everyone is busy, so I’ll make this quick. The home office says they think someone has been stealing corporate secrets and selling them off. And that’s no good, right?”

General expressions of disbelief and amusement. The Indian woman near the back tittered a little longer than the others. She wasn’t armed, but she was up against the cubicle wall, and there might be a weapon on the other side. She’d have to jump over it, and in that dress it would be impossible to clear the hurdle faster than we could react. 

“So now, if anyone wants to admit they’ve been stealing corporate secrets, now is the time. Just say you did it and that you’re sorry, and you won’t be in as much trouble.”

A few seconds of silence. They started looking around, scoffing in disbelief.

“Nobody?” Misa took a swig from her bottled water. From home, not from the break room here. We didn’t have time to immerse every bottle here in water to see if they’d been punctured by someone injecting them with poison, you need to be looking pretty close. “Okay, how about this. Everybody put your heads down, and close your eyes.” Only one head went down. “I meant, like, now!” One more head down, another, and as the rest looked to each other they figured that this was happening and followed suit. Except the woman in mid-back right, her head just kind of lolled, her eyes were open, so I concentrated on her. “Okay, now, if anyone has been stealing secrets, raise your hand now that nobody else can see you. Anybody?” Scattered chuckles. “Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Okay, okay, heads up.”

Hands on her hips, she exhaled in dissatisfaction. “I knew that probably wouldn’t work. But I had to try because, like, imagine how funny that would be if it worked? Right?” The guy with the Voltron T-Shirt under his unbuttoned dress shirt laughed, the only one who thought it was funny. “If I pulled that off, I would tell that story, like, forever. Now I have to do a bunch of boring interviews. Okay, so, everyone, back to your desks, I’ll come by and talk to you. It’ll be about fifteen minutes each. Have your job description and your recent assignments and stuff ready and all that. ” Rolled eyes, grunts of frustration, as Misa peeked over the top of her green filter glasses. 

The workers left out the other side, not walking past Misa, not getting within 12 feet. Misa stepped back, leaned over the short cubicle wall towards me. I listened, but didn’t make eye contact. I was flicking my gaze back and forth between the office workers, looking for anything suspicious.

“Okay, it’s probably //KELLY SANDINO//, she whispered. “//DAVID PLEM// was just trying to be polite, everyone else was bored with my bullshit, Kelly was the only one who was paying attention like she thought everything I said was important. Like she was concerned I was trying to lull her into a false sense of security.” I could hear her smile. “So I’ll pull her file, but we’re gonna start interviewing David for about a minute and a half, then hop over to Kelly’s station, where hopefully she’s started to get rid of something incriminating she thought she had 15 minutes to finish disposing of. If she turns off her monitor when we walk in, we know it’s her. Otherwise, grab her trash can.”

I nodded. I looked over to Kelly’s cubicle. Back to the wall, no concern about her screen being seen from behind, no direct line of sight to stairwell or elevator. We’d make her step out of the cubicle before talking to us to ensure she hadn’t picked up a weapon stashed there. If she was calling someone in, then they wouldn’t be showing up soon enough. We could pull the records from her office phone later on. If they already were on the way, I’d have to rely on being able to hear the elevator or stairwell doors open, but that also meant they wouldn’t be able to fire on us right away. I could set something by the stairwell that--

ACK! What the hell? Something smashed into me, bowling me over. My hand was inside my jacket and on the handle of my pistol before I even landed, but I didn’t draw until I could see where the attack came from. From the floor, teeth gritted, pulse pounding, I looked up for an assailant. All I saw was Misa’s concerned face leaning over the low wall, and a bunch of stacked boxes of paper. Paper boxes, stacked up on an office trolley.

An intern, skinny and awkward and panicking, poked his head around the tower. “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even see you there!”

“Oh my God, Shoko, are you okay?” Misa said, and already she offered her hand to help me up.

“Oh my God, oh my God, don’t sue me, don’t sue me,” the intern half-begged half-muttered, “I just started here this week, I didn’t know you were here…”

I wasn’t going to sue him. I wasn’t hurt, and I fell over mostly out of surprise. He just bowled into me with a cart full of paperwork. 

I was thinking about how I’d deal with it if this white collar criminal had called in a hit squad, and I was thinking about it so hard, an intern had smacked into me with a cart.

He couldn’t even see around it. How fast could he possibly have been going? Not very. And he just… he bonked right into me.

I’m watching sight lines and evaluating cover and thinking about poison and the intern just bonked into me. Bonk! Full slapstick.

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was just so perfectly absurd. As perfect a lesson as I could have seen. What are the odds that an office will have armed goons burst in, and what are the odds that an office will have a guy pushing a cart and not looking where he’s going? And what was I more concerned with?

I tried to hold in the giggles as Misa pulled me to my feet, but not too much. “Ooh, the laughter is good, I like that!” she said. “Use that. Moment she starts explaining something, laugh just like that, okay!”

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - no words needed

Hi i loved your mr evershed x autistic reader fic, and I was wondering if you’d mind doing another but with a reader who tends to have biting stims and after he calms them down, he helps patch them up? - Anon 💜

You were sitting in the English class, chewing the end of you pen, foot bouncing against the floor as you started at the book in front of you, listening to what the teacher was saying.

Though you were listening the words weren’t going in, and you just couldn’t focus.

You heard Mrs Carter say something to the class and they all started doing their own thing and she walked over and knelt next to your desk.

“Hey, are you okay…” she whispered.

You looked at her and shook your head.

“Alright, come on, let’s go somewhere quiet.”

She grabbed your bag for you and your book and led you out of the room.

As you guys were walking down the hallways you were biting your hand, causing some pain but you didn’t stop.

She led you to the quiet room and opened the door, seeing it had some students in she closed the door and turned around to you.

“Let’s try the conference room.” She smiled.

She saw you biting you hand, and the marks you were leaving behind and frowned a little.

She led you to the next room but it was in use and with a sigh she wondered around trying to find an empty classroom until she came across Mr Eversheds classroom that was empty.

She knocked on the door and walked in, gesturing for you to follow her and you sat at a desk, now biting your arm.

She spoke to him for a few minutes.

She then left and he walked over, sitting next to you as he watched you harshly bite your arm, it shouldn’t have been possible but after repeatedly biting the same spot you drew some blood but you didn’t seem to care.

“Hey, okay, I can’t let you keep doing that.” He whispered.

He reached over and gently placed a hand on your arm, pushing it towards the table but instead of stopping you it simply made you start biting your other hand.

“Can you stop biting?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him, and went back to biting your hand.

“Okay, is there anything that can help you?”

You didn’t reply and he sighed nodding his head as he got up and walked over to his computer.

He knew there was an email that the school had sent him when he first started about students who had disabilities and would need extra support and there was a separate one about you.

He quickly found it and read through it before getting up and walking back over towards you he crouched down beside you and rested his arms on the table.

You looked at him and tilted your head a little.

“You’ve got a stim toy in your bag, do you know where it is?”

You shook your head.

“Can you empty your bag on the table so I can have a look?”

You did as he said before going back to chewing your hand, and he started to search through all the things you had dumped on the table.

He found your headphones and pulled them out of your bag, placing them over your head, he connect them to his phone and handed it to you before he carried on his search.

He finally found it and he gently took your hand from your face and pressed the toy into your hands before he started to put everything back in your bag.

Once he had, he set it next to you and got up, sitting on the chair opposite yours and looked at the marks on your arm with a small frown.

Mr Evershed reached out, gently tapping the table to get your attention.

You looked up and he smiled.

“Can I look at your arms?”

You held out your hand before you went back to chewing on the toy and looking at the phone.

Before he could take a look at your arm you stopped and took it back, giving him back his phone and swapping it for your own before holding your arm out.

He gently inspected it before reaching out for the other one and checking that one over as well.

“Wait right here.”

He got up and left, returning a few moments later with a first aid box and he sat back down.

He placed your arm on the table and started to clean it, making sure to wipe away the dried blood and carefully and gently clean as much of your arm as he could.

The then wrapped a thin bandage around your arm before cleaning the other one which thankfully didn’t have any open injuries.

He pushed everything to the side.

“How’re you feeling now? Is the toy helping?” He asked.

You nodded and pushed one side of your headphones to the side as you reached for the bag beside you and pulled out one of your books setting it on the table.

You tapped the book and Mr Evershed smiled and nodded his head, taking it from you.

“I’ll have a look and we’ll work through it.”

You just nodded and went back to biting the stim toy while he flicked through the pages of your workbook