#i tossed it into a folder for later

[luckyraeve]

LOST IN FOG - a Silent Hill inspired mix [ download ]

Links to individual tracks under the cut.

01. Triad 02. Abyss 03. Drift Away 04. After Image 05. 海辺の傷 06. Green Seas Grey 07. Arcadia 08. Lucid Dream 09. Val 10. Ghost Town 11. Oceanography Storage 12. ししおどし 13. Mytilenian Debate 14. 02-04 15. Guiding Aura 16. Black Rainbows 17. We Live

[pocket-goat]

is the scug sacrifice thing still up

yeah! i'm gonna cram as many little guys in there as possible, maybe even make a whole new drawing when this current one gets full

[bellaxgiornata]

If We're Being Honest [2/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6k [Part1]

Summary: It's been a couple of months since you drunkenly kissed Matt and you've been avoiding him ever since, but Matt realizes that your absence from his life afterwards pained him more than he ever could've imagined.

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader, fluff at the end

a/n: The second and final part of this little fic is finally here! Hopefully the comfort is satisfying enough after the angsty first part. You also get Matt's POV in the first half of this one. Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @lotrefcp @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte

Matt slid his desk chair back with a sigh, relieved the frustrating work day had finally come to an end. Standing up, his hands felt around his desk for the mess of papers he’d had scattered along it. He gathered them up, neatly stacking them together before he stuffed them back into the folder they'd initially been inside. Bending over, his back muscles protesting the movement from his previous night out as Daredevil, he picked up his briefcase that was leaning against his desk on the floor. Placing the briefcase on top of his desk, he packed the folder inside before closing it up and tossing the strap of the bag over his head, taking a moment to position it comfortably along his shoulder. 

Making his way around his desk afterwards, one of his hands absently grabbed his folded up cane from off of it as he headed towards the door of his office. He could already hear Karen and Foggy in the firm's main room, the pair of them clearly talking about wedding related things. As he stepped out of his office and into the room, he could feel the air shift minutely as both of them looked over in his direction.

“More wedding details, Fog?” Matt asked, walking over to where the pair were leaning against the front office desk.

“Did you know that absolutely everything is a detail?” Foggy complained. “Like napkins. Did you know napkins mattered? Because I didn't. They're literally meant to wipe your dirty face and hands on, why does it matter what they look like? Or what material it’s made out of? It's a napkin!”

“Don't let Marci hear you say that,” Karen teased.

Matt could hear the way her fingers were tapping away at the screen of her phone. Probably sending a text message from the sounds of it. 

“I just want a break from all the wedding planning,” Foggy grumbled. “I feel like half our place is currently storage for some binder or seating chart or wedding magazine or stack of business cards and pamphlets.”

“Well you'll get a bit of a break from it this weekend,” Karen assured him, setting her phone onto the desk beside her. “When we go wedding dress shopping with Marci on Saturday. She'll be talking all our ears off about the details for the whole day instead of yours.”

Foggy let out a dreamy sigh at the thought. “And I'll be relaxing at home by myself thinking about literally anything else while all you lovely bridesmaids, who I'm sure are vastly more interested in color schemes and table decor, discuss all of that,” he replied. 

At the mention of bridesmaids, Matt's mind immediately jumped to you. He hadn't seen you since the night he'd offered to walk you back to his place and let you sleep over after you'd had a little too much to drink at Josie’s. The same night you'd randomly kissed him and told him you'd had feelings for him–something that had come as a complete shock to Matt. 

You had actively avoided him ever since then. Ignoring his phone calls and texts. Never returning a single voice-mail he'd left asking to talk to you about what had happened that night. You'd stopped meeting up with everyone at Josie’s, only spending time with Karen and Marci over the past couple of months. Foggy even only ever saw you whenever you'd stopped by to see Marci at their apartment when helping with the wedding planning. 

Matt expected you to be embarrassed after the incident, especially because he could feel the way your body had reacted before you'd sprinted out of his apartment and back into the rain outside. He'd felt bad, wondering if he'd really done something wrong that night to accidentally lead you on. He hadn’t meant to, he’d just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’d seemed off all night to him, but you had no idea about his heightened senses, so it wasn’t as if he could ask you why your body was all over the place that night. It had been confusing, and the amount of beers you’d drank certainly hadn’t helped him get a read on you, either.

He thought he’d been doing the right thing that night. The fling with that woman wasn’t worth risking you walking home in the rain drunk–which he’d overheard you talking to yourself about doing. He hadn’t wanted to risk something happening to you, because Matt damn well knew what could happen to drunk women walking home alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’d certainly rescued a few himself. But somehow you must’ve misread the entire situation and thought he’d been after more than that. Which was absurd because you’d always just been a great friend to him since he’d met you. A really close friend who he’d been sorely missing lately.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Matt said your name aloud, catching the attention of both Karen and Foggy. “Is she…going to be there this weekend, too?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, she’s one of the bridesmaids,” Karen answered. “So of course she’ll be there on Saturday.”

“I’m guessing she’s still not talking to you then, huh buddy?” Foggy asked him.

Matt sighed, shaking his head. He’d hated the silence from you and he had no idea how to fix things.

“No,” he replied. “She’s still very much ignoring me.”

“I don’t exactly blame her,” Karen cut in. “The whole situation sounded incredibly embarrassing and awkward when you told us why she was avoiding you. Especially considering how quiet she naturally is. For her to just kiss you and then to be rejected by you right after?” 

“Ouch,” Foggy muttered. “Yeah, she’s probably never speaking to you again, man. Sorry.”

Matt ran a hand across his mouth, his shoulders sagging in defeat. The thought of never spending time with you ever again physically hurt. He’d never again hear another one of your ridiculous jokes or have another surprise drop-in lunch visit at the office from you. You always somehow remembered his favorite sandwich from his favorite sandwich shop, too. He’d always thought it was sweet that you’d made a mental note of his particular order, considering you had no idea how delicate his palate was with his heightened senses. Though he supposed now knowing that you’d had feelings for him all along had that attention to detail making more sense.

Standing in the office, an uncomfortable feeling twisted his stomach into knots, his heart squirming in his chest as the realization that you might really be gone from his life fully hit him. He didn’t like it one bit.

“You okay, Matt?” Foggy asked him. “You sort of look like you’re going to be sick.”

Slowly, Matt shook his head. “I just wish I could fix things,” he confessed. “I wish she’d just talk to me again. I don't like this weirdness between us.”

He heard the way the air shifted in the room again. As if both Karen and Foggy had looked at each other. Matt’s eyes narrowed curiously behind his glasses, his head tilting to the side. Both of their heart rates had slightly elevated at almost the exact same moment when they’d done that. 

Why?

“So uh, you really miss her, huh?” Foggy asked.

“Of course,” Matt answered easily. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Yeah?” Karen questioned.

Matt’s head canted curiously to the side at the odd tone in her voice. What were they getting at?

“Yeah,” Matt reiterated. “She’s been an important person in my life ever since the pair of you introduced us a while back. We always got along so well, and she always had such witty things to say. I miss talking to her. Josie’s just doesn’t feel the same without her anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair in growing aggravation. “I hate that I can’t just call her and hear her voice whenever I want anymore. And that she never randomly stops into the office just to say ‘hi.’. It–it hurts that she’s just gone now.”

The air shifted again as Karen and Foggy clearly exchanged a look with each other. Frustration began to fill Matt at whatever it was they weren’t saying.

“What?” Matt snapped. “You both keep looking at each other, I can feel it. What’s that about?”

Foggy cleared his throat, his attention returning to Matt. “It’s just…are you sure you just miss your friend?” he asked carefully. 

Matt pulled a face at the ridiculous question. “What? Of course I do,” he shot back.

“No,” Karen said, shaking her head. “He means, are you sure you miss her because she’s just a friend to you?”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to–”

Matt abruptly stopped short, his mouth hanging open for a second as Karen’s words suddenly registered in his mind. Lips pressing together seconds later, Matt’s hands landed on his hips as he shifted his weight on his feet.

“What’re you trying to say?” Matt asked the pair. “That you think I like her? As more than a friend?”

“Well, buddy,” Foggy began carefully, “you’ve been acting pretty moody lately. Ever since she stopped talking to you. And you haven’t been as interested in the ladies, either. We’ve both noticed you turning them down. I don’t think you’ve brought a single person back to your place since that night.”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “So? I just haven’t been interested in that exactly,” he replied stiffly. “That doesn’t have anything to do with her.”

“You perk up at her name every time she’s mentioned,” Karen added. “And for the past couple of months you always find some way to randomly ask how she’s doing or what she’s been up to.”

“And when we told you she’d gotten onto that dating app,” Foggy chimed in, “you were in a horrible mood the whole day afterwards. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so grumpy for no reason to quite that extent before. I mean,” he continued with a chuckle, “that was like a Matt Murdock record level of moody. And there was no reason for it that day except for, well, that .”

Matt licked his lips, his fingers digging into his hips through his dress clothes. He’d just been worried about the jerks you might meet on that site, that was all. And he’d been jealous that you were still talking to Foggy, Karen, and Marci but not him. That had been all it was.

Right?

Karen leaned up against the side of the desk, her arms crossing over her chest as she focused on Matt. He bristled under the attention, feeling like he was suddenly on the stand and she was about to interrogate him.

“Let me ask you something,” she began, “and I want you to be honest and really think. How’d you feel when she kissed you that night?”

Matt frowned in her direction. “I told you, it’d been a shock,” he answered. “I hadn’t anticipated her to do that. Then I was worried I’d given her the wrong impression and I felt horrible that I’d upset her.”

Karen was roughly shaking her head at him. “No, how did it make you feel Matt?” she asked again.

“I mean I–” he stopped short again, his mouth closing almost immediately.

In all honesty, with everything that had happened that night, he hadn’t really thought about that. He’d been afraid of you thinking he was trying to take advantage of you when you were drunk, something he’d never do. And then he’d been upset and worried about you running out of his place crying and trying to make it home that night. He couldn’t even follow after you because it wouldn’t make sense that a blind man could navigate his way down the stairwell after you like he knew he’d be able to. And he was certain if he’d called your name down in the lobby–because he shouldn't have been able to know you by the sound of your heartbeat and scent of your perfume–you’d only run out of the building and ignore him. Chasing after you hadn't been an option.

But he had wanted to. Something he hadn’t even thought about after the fact because he’d been so upset at you ignoring his calls and messages. All he'd been focused on was how much it hurt that he'd lost such a great friend. He hadn't really stopped to think about how he had wanted to follow you or how that surprise kiss had made him feel. 

Had he enjoyed it? It had been timid and hesitant, only a brief kiss, but it hadn't been horrible. He'd just…never thought about you like that before. Because you weren't the kind of woman who blatantly threw yourself at him, the type he'd bring back to his apartment for a fuck and then be content to never see again. 

You definitely deserved more than that. 

You were the type someone brought home to meet their parents, the type a guy planned dates for, wanted to spend holidays with. You were the long term, committed relationship type of woman. The type Matt avoided because the thought of something serious scared him, especially with how he spent most of his evenings. 

But he missed you. He missed the scent of your perfume you always wore, the smell sometimes even lingering on his clothes when he'd return home from Josie’s. He missed the way you'd try to fill awkward silences whenever you were with him, always saying whatever random thing was on your mind. He missed the way your heart usually jumped whenever you first spotted him–because he'd always known you were attracted to him but he'd never thought more of it than that. He missed the sound of your voice after a difficult day at work, on days like today. 

“Well?” Karen prompted, breaking through his thoughts. 

“I uh,” he began, pausing to clear his throat, “I guess I never really thought about her like that before. I've always avoided anything possibly serious, and I've always tried to keep her at a distance because she didn't know about Daredevil. So I never really gave it much thought. Especially since she'd always just been there before. But now that she's not…” Matt trailed off, aware of the strange and unfamiliar feeling growing in his chest. “I guess I miss her more than I think I even realized,” he finished softly. 

“So wait, let me get this straight,” Foggy began, excitedly waving his hands in front of himself. “You're just now realizing that maybe you really do like her? Like for real? As more than just a good friend?”

A small smile slid across Matt's lips as he thought of the sound of your laughter and how he wished he could hear it tonight after the shit day he’d had. His hands dropped from his hips, that stupid smile growing a little at the thought of you. “I suppose I am,” he admitted. 

Foggy pushed off the desk and crossed the few steps over towards Matt. Both of his hands flew forward, grabbing Matt's shoulders in a tight grip and lightly shaking him. Back by the desk, Karen tried to hide her laugh behind a hand.

“Then dammit, Murdock,” Foggy ordered, “Go tell her that!”

The smile grew wider on Matt's face, an idea forming in his mind already. If you weren't going to answer your phone, he'd find a way to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. 

Straightening up your kitchen now that you'd finished with dinner, you paused what you were doing when you heard your phone alert you to a notification. Turning around, you picked it up from where it had been sitting on the counter, curious to what the notification was about. 

Unlocking your phone, you noticed you'd received another message on the dating app you'd downloaded weeks ago. Leaning your back against the nearby counter, a smile drew itself across your lips. It was the first message you'd gotten this week and the sight immediately lifted your mood. The prospect of someone possibly being interested in you had your stomach excitedly jumping up into your chest.

You opened the message, beginning to excitedly read it over. Though the more you read, the faster your smile shifted into a frown. It was yet another sleazy sounding guy clearly trying to talk himself up in a way that sounded both fabricated and disrespectful. You cringed at the things he’d said about your photos–things he clearly thought were meant to be compliments but were vastly inappropriate and made you feel uncomfortable instead of flattered. Reaching the end of the brief message, you were shaking your head and closing out of the app before setting your phone back onto the counter with a roll of your eyes. It wasn't even worth your time responding back to the guy after a few of the things you'd read because he absolutely wasn't a match and you had no interest in ever meeting him.

With a sigh you made your way towards your fridge, your mind now focused on that unopened bottle of wine in there. It looked like you'd be having another night in with yourself tonight. But just as you'd opened the door to your fridge, your hand about to reach in and grab the bottle of red wine, there was a knock at your apartment door. 

You paused, half-bent in front of your fridge as your eyebrows drew together in confusion at the interruption. Assuming it might’ve been Karen or Marci stopping by to go over something for wedding dress shopping which was planned for Saturday, you gradually stood back up and closed the fridge door. You figured that bottle of wine could wait a few more minutes.

Making your way out of your kitchen, you cut through your living room and over towards your door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door wide open without even glancing through the peephole first. Expecting to see either blonde woman standing there, you were stunned to instead find Matt standing in your hallway with a small smile on his lips. 

Your heart lurched its way into your throat at the sight of him, your lips parting in surprise. Hand tightening around the handle of your door in a death grip, you fought your initial urge to just slam it in his face. What the hell was he doing here? Matt was the absolute last person you wanted to see standing at your door after your last interaction with him. It had been a few weeks since that nightmare of a night where you'd drunkenly kissed him and you still became insanely embarrassed at the memory of it. You certainly had no interest in talking to him about it further. You'd already apologized for just kissing him like you'd done, now all you wanted to do was never speak to him again. You figured he had to have gotten the hint already with how you’d been ignoring him.

So why was he suddenly at your apartment?

He said your name, that smile still on his mouth as he held up his right hand. Your face twisted into a look of confusion at the sight of a bouquet of beautiful flowers you hadn’t initially noticed he’d been holding. 

“Can I take you to dinner this Sunday night?” he asked.

Teeth gritting down hard together, your eyes narrowed back at him as anger quickly ignited within your gut. You immediately remembered drunkenly confessing to him that you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had brought you flowers or asked you on a date. Now here he was doing both after he’d just very obviously and clearly rejected you. Did he think this was some way to break the ice between you both after what had happened? Some sort of way to turn everything into a joke?

“Do you think that's funny?” you asked sharply. “Making fun of me like this? As if I don’t feel like an absolute dumbass already, now you come here rubbing it in my face? You don’t like me like that, I got the message loud and clear already, Matthew. I don’t remotely find this funny.”

Matt's expression quickly morphed into one of shock and surprise at your reaction. He shook his head quickly, a crease forming between his dark brows.

“No, that’s–that’s not what I’m doing at all!” he exclaimed earnestly. “I guess I shouldn’t have led with that. Can I just come in and talk to you? Explain everything? Please?”

You were about to tell him no, wanting to hide your hurt, disappointment, and embarrassment behind a wall of anger instead of crying over Matt yet again, especially in front of him once more, but the solemn and desperate look on his face gave you pause. Matt and you had your jokes, but even this would’ve been a bit ridiculous for him to have planned out as a way to smooth things over between the pair of you after what had happened. He’d never seemed callous like that in the past. But the only other thing that would make sense was him actually coming here to ask you on a real date. Which also seemed equally absurd since almost seven weeks ago he’d already told you that you were just a friend.

“I swear if you let me explain, this will seem far less confusing,” he assured you. “Just–just give me five minutes?”

With an irritated sigh, you stepped away from the door. “Fine,” you relented. “Five minutes, Matt.”

An almost nervous smile spread across his lips as he made his way through the doorway and into your apartment. You closed the door behind him, your body a confusing mix of emotions that you were struggling to make sense of right now. You were upset about seeing him again after that embarrassing moment, your anger quickly giving way to discomfort. It didn't help that the tiniest spark of hope had reappeared in your chest at the prospect of him truly being here to ask you out on a date, but you immediately reminded yourself of what happened the last time you’d stupidly thought there was a chance Matt had feelings for you. You didn’t want to wind up misreading things with him a second time.

Turning back towards him, you were met with the bouquet of flowers in his extended hand. It was a stunning mixture of dahlias and greenery that couldn't have been cheap now that you were really looking at it. 

“Dahlias are your favorite, if I’m not mistaken,” he said softly. “I remembered you mentioning that before at Josie’s when Marci had been talking about flowers for the wedding.”

Eyes darting up from the bouquet in his hands, they landed on his face. He still looked nervous and you weren’t entirely sure what to make of that. Matthew Murdock never outwardly got nervous. You also weren’t sure what to make of him remembering your favorite flower months after you’d brought it up around him just once. 

Not knowing how to really respond, the confusing mix of emotions in your body only growing, you hesitantly reached a hand out and accepted the flowers. “Thank you,” you murmured. 

In an attempt to keep your hands busy, and because you weren’t remotely interested in being the one to lead the conversation, you made your way back into your kitchen. You were aware of Matt following after you as you searched for the lone vase in one of your kitchen cabinets. Eventually you found it and began to fill it with water, impatient for Matt to say something as you kept your back to him. 

“About that night,” Matt began cautiously, “when I’d invited you to stay over and you kissed me?”

Turning off the kitchen faucet, your eyelids slowly lowered. Your body tensed, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. Keeping your back to him, you knew you couldn’t bear to look at him right now with whatever he was about to say. The jumbled, drunken memory of that evening came flooding back to you and you were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment, tears stinging at your eyes behind closed lids. You remained silent though, waiting for him to continue.

“I hadn’t anticipated that, if I’m being honest,” he finally continued, still speaking in a measured tone. “My intention had been to make sure you made it somewhere safe that evening because I knew you’d drank a bit more than usual. I couldn’t stand the thought of you walking home alone drunk at night in the rain. So I’m sorry if I was giving off signals to you that were other than that at the time because they weren’t intentional.” He paused, clearing his throat lightly. “And it–it wasn’t exactly until this afternoon that I realized maybe some of them were subconscious because I hadn’t quite realized what I actually felt until today.”

Your hands tightened around both the vase and the bouquet of flowers as you held your breath. That flicker of hope had grown just marginally in your chest without your permission, and now it was teetering on the edge of growing larger or diminishing itself entirely. You felt like you couldn’t take another breath as you waited for him to clarify what he meant.

“It’s been weeks since we’ve talked,” Matt said, pain in his voice. “Weeks since you’ve come to Josie’s or stopped by the office. Or answered one of my phone calls. And everyday has just felt off because of it. Because I miss you. And I thought for the longest time it was just because I was missing one of my best friends, but then Karen and Foggy apparently caught onto something that I hadn’t even noticed in myself.”

With shaking hands, you opened your eyes and slipped the bouquet of flowers into the filled vase. Nervously you turned around, reaching your hand out to set them onto the counter next to you before your gaze finally landed back on Matt. He was standing at the other end of your small kitchen now, and it was almost as if he knew your eyes were on him as a gentle smile began pulling up the corners of his lips.

“If we’re being honest,” Matt confessed, “I’ve always tried to avoid relationships. I haven’t had the best of luck with them, and well, there are things someone actually dating me would need to be made aware of–something I generally don’t open up about. But I think I’d be ready to discuss that with you after dinner Sunday night if you’d let me take you out.” 

He paused, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he gripped his cane tighter between both of his hands. Briefly you wondered what things he meant, but he was speaking again before you’d had long to contemplate that comment.

“The truth is, I didn’t truly realize what you meant to me until you were no longer a constant in my life,” Matt admitted. “And I can’t stand not having you around. Not just because you’re my friend, but because I have feelings for you, too. Feelings that are more than friendly that I’d like to explore further if you’d still be willing to as well.” 

Heart skipping a beat entirely in your chest, you exhaled a quivering breath at the admission. Matt liked you. You . He’d really come here to bring you flowers and to ask you on a date, not to mock you or make light of your currently sad and lacking situation of a love life. You heard him let out a nervous laugh as your mind continued to race at everything he was saying.

“I uh, really wish you’d say absolutely anything right now,” he continued, “because your silence is scaring the hell out of me. I can’t tell if you’re still mad or just trying to process everything.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to find the words to express how you were feeling. You could barely understand your own mind right now after he’d dropped all that on you. You'd gone so long never believing he'd be interested in you like that, and then after what had happened weeks ago when he'd blatantly rejected you, you really figured you'd never be anything more to him. But now here he was telling you the opposite and you could hardly believe it.

“I’m still sort of processing,” you replied, voice just above a whisper. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to hear you ever say any of that. Certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear any of this tonight.”

A sheepish smile tugged at his lips just before he hung his head, nodding lightly. “Yeah, it sort of surprised me earlier, too,” he told you. “I’m shocked I wasn’t quite as aware of my own feelings as Karen and Foggy seemed to be, but uh…that probably has a little something to do with some other things going on in my life.”

Chewing your lip nervously, you continued to take in the sight of him standing across from you in your kitchen. He was still dressed in his dress clothes from work, clearly having finished late and having come straight here to see you afterwards. The nerves in your stomach gradually intensified as you took in the smile on his handsome face that you could somewhat make out despite the way he’d ducked his head. Seconds later his covered gaze rose up, falling back on you. You only gnawed on your bottom lip faster, something electric feeling like it was sparking between you both in the small space all the sudden. A feeling that hadn’t been there seconds ago.

“So I suppose now I’m curious to know if you’d let me take you to dinner Sunday night, since I know you’ve got plans for Saturday?” Matt asked hopefully. “Would that…be something you’d like?”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding immediately.

Matt took a few steps forward, the smile that had been lighting up his face growing warmer. His hands reached up, removing the glasses from his face before he slipped them into the inside pocket of his suit coat as he continued to make his way towards you. You leaned further back into the counter behind you, your hands landing on either side of the countertop as you tried to steady yourself. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, but there was a glint in his eye that had your breath coming in sharper than usual.

“And in that case,” Matt continued, his voice dropping a few octaves to something sultry and soft, the sound increasing your pulse as he continued to close the gap between you both, “would it be alright if we had a redo of our first kiss? This time with both of us sober and actually anticipating it?”

Breath still coming in shallow, it was difficult for your brain to send the signal to your mouth to actually formulate a sentence. You’d managed a quiet noise in response as he came to a stop just in front of you, his body mere inches from yours as he set his cane to the side. You could practically feel something sparking between the pair of you as he just stood there, his eyes focused along your chin. His head tilted to the side as if in silent question when you hadn’t given him a verbal confirmation.

“I–yes,” you finally answered.

He leaned in, moving so painfully slow as he came to rest his forehead against yours. His hand was suddenly on your neck, delicately gliding his fingertips upwards until the palm of his hand cupped your cheek, cradling it in his warm hand. His thumb rested just beneath your jaw, somehow knowingly tilting your mouth up further towards his at just the right angle. You felt lightheaded beneath his touch and the close proximity, your body involuntarily sinking forward into his when the tip of his nose just barely brushed against yours.

Matt shifted just the slightest bit before you felt his lips finally land on yours. Your eyelids immediately fluttered shut, a faint sigh sneaking out of your throat at how soft his lips were–softer than you recalled them. With the way he carefully began to move them against yours, you felt your knees going weak. Hands releasing the grip you had on the countertop, they darted forward and grabbed fistfuls of his dress shirt, just beneath his suit coat. 

As you held onto him like a lifeline, his mouth pressed more firmly against yours. Fingers curling into his dress shirt, you pulled him roughly into your body. He stumbled forward into you, a rumbling growl coming from his chest in response. The delicious weight of him against the front of you only pressed you farther into the counter behind you as his other hand landed on your hip, gripping it tight.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that Matt gently broke away, his own breath heavy as he rested his forehead back to yours. Your tongue darted out, licking your damp lips as you tried to catch your breath. You could still taste him on you, the realization causing you to actively have to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him again. 

“Well there's–there's certainly something there,” Matt said with a breathy laugh. “But uh, maybe we should leave things there until after Sunday night?”

You nodded, though it was hard to fully agree when his hips were still pressing you back into your kitchen counter and his mouth was mere inches from yours. Especially knowing how damn good of a kisser he was now, you wondered what else he did well.

“Right,” you breathed out.

He shifted against you, burying his face against the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't fight the smile on your face at how he clearly didn't want to pull away from you, instead getting closer to you. You'd never seen him this affectionate with anyone else before.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your neck. 

Tentatively your hands released their grip on his shirt, your own arms snaking their way around his waist and drawing him closer. You came to rest your forehead against his shoulder, eyes closing as you relaxed into him. 

“I missed you, too,” you admitted. “And I'm sorry for getting drunk and kissing you like an idiot and then ignoring you for weeks.”

“Well, I admit it wasn't great being ignored by you,” he said, his lips tickling you as he spoke. “But at the same time, if you hadn't done either of those, I might never have realized how I felt about the woman who'd always been right in front of me the whole time.”

Your smile grew, your arms holding him a bit tighter. “I suppose that makes me feel a little less embarrassed, then.”

Matt nuzzled his face further into your neck, the bit of stubble on his cheeks pleasantly tickling you. You couldn't fight the giggle that slipped out of you in response. Seconds later you swore you felt his mouth pulling into a smile against your skin. 

“So Sunday night,” Matt began slowly, “if I show up with flowers for you again, you're not going to yell at me, are you?”

You couldn’t resist the laugh that fell out of you. Burying your face further against his shoulder in slight embarrassment, you replied, “No, I'm definitely not going to yell at you for bringing me flowers again.”

“Good,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Because that was admittedly a terrifying experience.”

The pair of you fell into a fit of laughter in your kitchen, arms still wrapped around each other as you did. As the pleasant sound filled your apartment, the pair of you holding onto each other tightly like neither wanted to be the first to let the other go, you couldn't help but think about what a turn everything had taken all because you'd drunkenly misread a situation and kissed your friend.

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn’t take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

A/N: We get to know what happened before the party.

Indecent Proposal (1)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Three weeks before the party, …

“Sirs, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers,” Scott nervously tugs at the tie around his neck. He hates ties and suits. This can’t be helped. His goal is to get a better, more important, position within the organization. 

“Why are you wasting our time?” Bucky grumpily says. He slams a manila folder shut and sighs deeply. “We have better things to do than talking to one of our lower-rank minions…”

Steve stops his husband and partner before he can rip Scott apart.

“Please excuse my husband. He’s in a bad mood. The surrogates we interviewed so far didn’t reach our expectations.”

“Steve, he doesn’t need to know shit about our life,” Bucky huffs as his husband just spilled that they are trying to have a baby. 

“Surrogate, hmmm…I guess it’s hard to find the perfect woman. She can’t be too old or have a jealous man by her side. I never was jealous.” Scott babbles. “Shesh, I hope my girl doesn’t want children so soon.”

Bucky furrows his brows at Scott’s words. 

“I can tell, she’s a horny bitch every time she comes home after spending the day with her friend's kids. She begs me to breed her, and give her a baby,” Scott misses the look Steve and Bucky share.

“What?” Bucky questions. “Your girl wants a baby?” He tosses the manila folder into the bin. “Steve, a word…”

Scott waited patiently for the heads of the mob to call him in again. He steps back inside the room, eyes trained on the floor as Steve and Bucky watch him like hawks.

“Mr. Lang,” Steve clears his throat as his husband stares at the manila folder again. “We have something in mind you can help us with.”

“You do?” Scott excitedly says. “Yes. Of course! I’ll do anything!”

“It’s pretty easy,” Bucky sits on the plush sofa opposite the chair Scott occupies. “We are looking for a surrogate, and your girlfriend gets horny imagining having a baby.”

Scott dumbly stares at Bucky. He doesn’t understand a single word the mobster said. 

“What my husband tried to tell you is that we want your girl to become our surrogate,” the blonde casually says. “You will get a better position in our organization and more money than you could ever spend. In return, your girlfriend will become our surrogate.”

“Surrogate…” Scott licks his lips. “So…she will go to a doctor and stuff?”

Bucky smirks darkly. “Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “We are doing this the natural way. Your pretty girl will get to cum all over our cocks. We will breed her like the whore she’ll be for our cocks.”

“You want…oh,” shifting in his seat Scott considers his options. You are only together for a few months. He’s not in love but likes having someone to fuck around. You’re replaceable to him. If he plays his cards right, he’ll be a made man in no time. “I’ll talk to her, Sirs.”

Steve nods slowly while his husband grins wolfishly. “We need to check on her medical records first. Give us a few days. If she’s a match, we will give you a call.”

Three days later, …

“Mr. Rogers, Sir,” Scott tries to calm his racing heart. “She’s a match? Really? I mean, you want her to have your baby?”

Steve explains that you are compatible with them. He hides that you are perfect and that his husband can’t think of anything else than putting his hands on you since he got a glimpse of you some weeks ago.

“A party? Yes. That’s the perfect opportunity. I’ll talk to Y/N. She will love becoming your surrogate. And…uh…maybe we can talk about the new position too. You said something about money too.”

“You’ll get what you deserve,” Steve sarcastically says. He can’t believe Scott offers you on a silver plate to them. Not that he would complain. It’s easier this way. 

If you come to them on free terms, they can seduce you, and offer a better life to you instead of taking you with them by force.

Meanwhile, at Steve and Bucky’s mansion, …

“She’s perfect, Stevie,” Bucky swoons as he looks at the wall, plastered with pictures of you. “I think we found our girl.”

“Her medical records look good too. The doctor said she was a perfect match. In any way,” Steve looks at one of the pictures, licking his lips. Scott took it for them. You are only in your nightie and smile coyly at Scott. “We need to be quick before that idiot gets the chance to breed her.”

“We won’t give her back, right?” Bucky furrows his brows. “Right? She’s going to be our girl. I want to breed her more than once. I’ll always keep her full of our babies.”

Steve smirks at his husband. “Of course, we won’t give her back. She’s going to be ours, baby. No one will take her away from us. After she had our cocks for the first time, she will be addicted either way.” 

One week before the party, …

“A party? Scott,” you sigh deeply. “I told you that my friends invited me to a lady’s night. Why didn’t you tell me about the party earlier? I don’t have a dress for such a fancy event.”

“I got you a dress, shoes, and lingerie,” he points at a huge box on the bed. “You don’t need to take care of anything. Just look sexy and pretty as always.”

Your eyes widen at Scott’s thoughtfulness. Until today, you never thought he’d be more than a fling. Scott is cute, and you like his sense of humor. But he’s immature and selfish most of the time.

“Okay, then,” you softly say. “I’ll call my friends and cancel our plans.” You gasp when you open the box to see the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. “Scott, the dress looks so expensive.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he grins. Scott hides that Steve and Bucky chose the dress and paid for it. “Only the best for my girl.”

Now, Steve and Bucky’s office, …

“Babe, you don’t mean that,” Scott splutters. He raises his hands in surrender and pleadingly looks at you. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, we had a deal. I thought you always keep your word!”

“We do,” Bucky gets the gun out of his shoulder holster, “always. The problem is,” he unlocks his gun to press it to your now ex-boyfriend’s chest, “you lied to us.”

“The deal was that you talk to her and that she knows about the deal. You dared to put her in a situation like this. What did you expect? That we bend her over and take what we want?” Steve growls, making you whimper.

Their alpha behavior makes you hornier than it should. You press your legs together, fighting your arousal. “I’m not some whore you can offer to your buddies,” you mutter under your breath. “I can’t believe I canceled my lady’s night for you!”

“Babe, please…they are going to kill me. I’m sorry, okay,” he begs again. “We can talk things out. You only need to let them breed you once. For me…”

“Fuck you,” you throw your clutch at Scott. “I won’t ride dick only because you beg me to do so. I’ll fuck them to get off, not to help you make a career.”

“Doll, you need to calm down,” Steve purrs in your ear. He possessively slings one strong arm around your waistline to press your body to his. “We don’t want a quick fuck. You are going to be ours.”

“Forever,” Bucky adds. He looks over his shoulder to watch his husband grind into you. “Steve, slow down.”

“I only try to keep our sweet doll from hurting herself,” the blonde pecks your neck. “We are going to do all the dirty work for you from now on.”

“How do you want us to get rid of him?” Bucky pokes your ex-boyfriend’s chest with his gun, snickering as Scott wets himself. “Please tell me I can use one of my knives.”

You gently touched the arm around your body, patting it. “I want to get to know you better before we…” You lick your lips. “I’m not going to be only a hole you can fill.”

“Baby doll, you are going to be so much more,” Bucy turns around and places his gun on the desk. He steps toward you to cup your face and claim your lips in a soft kiss. “Steve and I will ruin you, sweetness.”

“Hands up, and do not move!” Scott took the chance and grabbed Bucky’s gun. He aims it toward you and Steve. His hands tremble, and he struggles to aim at Steve, not you.

Bucky smirks darkly. “I guess this means I can use my knives…”

Scott pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He pulls it again, and again until Bucky slaps the gun out of his hands. “Did you honestly believe I'll use a gun in front of the future mother of our children?” He grunts. “You are dumber than I thought.”

“You idiot could’ve hit me!” You snarl in Scott’s direction. “What the fuck!” He stammers a meaningless apology. You know he only tried to save his ass. You ended up between a rock and a hard place because of him. “I want him gone until morning.”

“Consider it done,” Bucky purrs. “And after he’s gone, we will get to the fun part…”

Part 3

[michaeljoncarter]

how to roll back your game version & play the early access version of bg3

because all the people in my notes talking about being sad about never getting to play during ea are making me sad. you can still get in there!! easily!! and you don't even have to uninstall the current version to do it! you can have the current game & the ea version at the same time and switch between them by just moving around a few files

all you need to do is follow a slightly tweaked version of this guide on how to roll back your game to a previous version--slightly tweaked in that this is a guide for people whose games are broken and yours isn't (hopefully?) but more on that in a sec

you need two different id numbers to download, the "main" depot's (1086941) and the "bin" depot's (1419652). the very last update to the early access game before its full release was hotfix #32. if you're just interested in playing the early access version in general, i'd suggest going with this one! but i'll also be putting in the ids for the various other patches for anyone interested in earlier versions of ea

the "main" (1086941) id is 2986558115270870303 and the "bin" (1419652) is 3491586966951526173, so in step 3, your console commands would be "download_depot 1086940 1086941 2986558115270870303" and then "download_depot 1086940 1419652 3491586966951526173" (without the quotation marks)

after you've gotten that downloaded, those slight tweaks come into play. since your game is (hopefully) not broken, in step 6, when it tells you to "Go to %LocalAppData%\Larian Studios\Baldur's Gate 3\ and delete there everything except PlayerProfiles folder," make a new folder somewhere easily accessible (i just keep mine on my desktop homescreen), give it a recognizable name like "bg3 full release" or smth, and toss all those files into it for safekeeping instead of deleting them

then, make a copy of the PlayerProfiles folder to go into %LocalAppData%\Larian Studios\Baldur's Gate 3, and continue with the rest of the guide from there

hopefully, everything should work and you'll be able to play the early access version!

if you need to make space, you can just delete the files in %LocalAppData%\Larian Studios\Baldur's Gate 3, replace them with the original files from this folder that you moved to their own folder earlier, and go back to playing the full version of the game

OR if you have enough space and just want to go back to playing the full release version for a while with the option to go back to ea later, you can make a second folder in that same easily accessible location, name it something like "bg3 ea," and move the ea files from %LocalAppData%\Larian Studios\Baldur's Gate 3 there for safekeeping while you switch the original files back in. and then whenever you want to go back to ea, you just switch them out again!

if you just want to play ea generally, that's all there is to it, but for anyone interested in the earlier versions, i'm also including the ids for everything back to patch 5 or 6 (more on that below) under the cut!

steamdb's "main" depot ids go back all the way to the beginning of early access in october 2020, but the "bin" ids only go back to september 2021. i have no idea why or if there's a way to get around this to allow access to the super early versions of the game (let me know if you know), but from what i recall, most of the big changes came post-patch 6 (which dropped in october 2021), so i don't think you're missing all that much here

i'm going to list 2 different versions for each patch--the version of the patch that dropped and then the very last hotfix of that patch that was released before the next patch's release. i strongly recommend using the pre-patch hotfix versions since they'll be the ones that's already fixed any major bugs found in the patch, including the ones that caused crashes (which weren't common but did very much happen from time to time), but since there were sometimes changes made in the hotfixes between patches, i'm including the raw, sometimes buggy initial patch itself, too, for anyone who wants the true ea experience

whenever a patch dropped, there was usually a patch announcement post that included a long list of everything added/changed and a community update post that highlighted & went into more detail about some of the biggest, most significant additions/changes shortly after. i'll be linking both of them for each version so you can see what was added in each patch & decide which you'd like to see!

final pre-release patch 9 hotfix - january 26, 2023 - hotfix #32

main: 2986558115270870303

bin: 3491586966951526173

initial patch 9 release - december 14, 2022 - announcement post, community update

main: 6537615510298161288

bin: 5945988095619420679

final pre-patch 9 patch 8 hotfix - hotfix #29

main: 4587530374381214828

bin: 1158786419690212446

initial patch 8 release - july 7, 2022 - announcement post, community update

main: 6228241067016987625

bin: 7406932516672251230

final pre-patch 8 patch 7 hotfix - april 7, 2022 - hotfix #23

main: 2158159273108954060

bin: 5051502138264372142

initial patch 7 release - february 15, 2022 - announcement post, community update

main: 2319709286482444091

bin: 5051502138264372142

final pre-patch 7 patch 6 release - december 2, 2021 - hotfix #19

main: 7168428077382038060

bin: 3275005870898440938

initial patch 6 release - october 14, 2021 - announcement post, community update

main: 7453809126564301688

bin: 9049843173236541567

the oldest entry of a "bin" id is from september 16, 2021. there are no community posts or hotfix announcements from that day, and i haven't tested it myself, so... possible pre-patch 6 version? but i'm not sure! if anyone tries this one, please do let me know

main: 6252948475239841962

bin: 7144137622957893936

good luck & have fun!

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 3. Go white boy go

Warnings: like- one swear word?

note: a little longer part but the next part is (hopefully) where things start picking up. but there’s written parts so don’t miss those!

You switched off your phone just in time to see Yuta running up to you. He tossed you his helmet as he climbed up the ramp, taking the spot beside you.

“Took you long enough.” You roll your eyes, pushing the boy off, leaving him to slide back down the damp concrete.

“It was only a few minutes.” Yuta groans, dusting himself off to climb back up again. His sad attempts at trying to reach the ledge almost made you feel bad for him. Almost.

“Holy shit you suck at this.”

Despite wanting to help him, the better part of you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. What else were you supposed to do? You are best friends after all. Laugh first, help after. That’s the universal rule for all best friends.

After getting your entertainment from watching the poor boy fail again and again to get a good grip on the ledge, you finally offered him a hand (which he reluctantly took).

“Don’t worry, I made sure to get all the good angles.” You flashed your phone at him, swiping to the side to show him all the photos you took of him.

As he takes in the images, Yuta’s faces turn into one of absolute terror. “Delete those right now!” He reaches for the device.

“Never! You look cute in them!” You smack his reaching hand away. “These are going into my folder!”

“There’s more?!” He lets out a horrified gasp.

“Obviously!”

As Yuta continues to reach for your phone, your phone buzzes. You sneak a glance at it and see a notification from one of your streaming apps.

‘toginu is live now!’

Yuta also sees the notification and stops trying to take your phone, sitting back up and waiting for you to turn on the livestream.

You immediately click on the notification and your brought to the app, the sounds of keys clicking greeting your ears.

The boy continues typing away on his keyboard, occasionally looking at the chat and thousands of messages flood through every second. Looks like you made it in time to watch.

Yuta leaned onto your shoulder, watching your screen. The two of you had an unspoken agreement to watch livestreams together whenever possible.

You turned the volume up and placed the phone next to Yuta before standing up and grabbing your skateboard.

“Keep you updated.” You pushed yourself forward and through the park.

“Time to go.” Yuta stood up, stretching his limbs.

You let out a disapproving groan, flopping backwards onto the cement and staring up into the sky. The sun was slowly rising in the distance, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

“Don’t wanna do anything today.” You sigh.

Yuta gathered his things and wandered over to you, joining you on the ground and admiring the view. “We should go before our parents realize we’re gone.”

“Yeah…” You sat up, grabbing all of your belongings and stuffing them back into your bag before following Yuta out of the park.

It wasn’t long before you reached your house. Yuta pulled into the back as usual for you to easily be able to sneak back into your room via your window.

You gave the boy a quick hug, promising to text him later before running through your backyard towards your room.

“I’ll see you in class!” He called out to you before he sped off in the direction of his own house.

“What class??” You mumble to yourself as you slide your window open.

As soon as you entered your room, your alarm started going off, telling you to get ready for the day. You look at it in confusion. Your alarm only rings on weekdays.

“Time to get up! You got school!” You hear a voice yelling at you from outside the door, accompanied by a loud banging.

“I’m up!” You yell back.

Now you were not only tired, you had to put up with a whole day of classes. You could’ve sworn it was Sunday.

You had a long day ahead of you.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— you rely heavily on yuta to keep track of the time when you guys go out all night (even though he’s worse at time keeping than you are)

— he always manages to get you home in the morning before your parents notice tho

— you have multiple folders in your photo gallery for silly little pictures and videos for all of your friends (most of them are of yuta)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon

[wlntrsldler]

I just got thinking, even though five star gets hate after she and luke go public, she'll probably also gain a few stans. they will search the internet top to bottom to find content. theres def some luke fans who r like "forget luke i want HER" and it would be so funny to see luke have to deal with his own fans simping for his gf LMFAO

“woah, pause,” luke spoke into the mic, squinting to read the sign that a fan was holding up. he turned to his band mates, cracking a smile, “do y’all see that?”

luke walked to the edge of the stage, chuckling into the mic as he wrapped the mic cord around his first. “someone has a sign that says, ‘luke tell y/n that she can hit me with her field hockey stick any day.’ that is wild bro.”

“that’s so fucking funny,” connor snorted, motioning for the crew to toss him luke’s phone. he walked over to luke and handed him his phone and luke was quick to take a picture to send to you later.

“guys,” luke whined playfully. “you’re at a poisoned mercury show! pay attention to me!”

“your girlfriend is hot!” the fan shouted, beaming at the camera that was pointed at her now. “forget luke, i want y/n!”

“you’re hurting my feelings here,” luke placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. his face said something different, though. he was beaming from ear to ear, eyes twinkling in fondness as his fans fawned over you. “i can’t argue with you there. my girlfriend is really hot, but haha, she’s mine. sorry.”

luke stuck his tongue out before returning to his spot on the stage, “speaking of my girlfriend, this next song cupid’s chokehold.”

after the show, he texted you the picture of the fan’s sign, which made you laugh uncontrollably. and when luke’s fyp was bombarded with edits of you after the fan encounter, he wasn’t going to complain.

bonus:

luke’s comments on tiktok edits of five star:

“@ ? plsplspls”

“i think i just fell in love again”

“aaanddd straight to my favorites folder it goes”

“if i said what i wanted to say about her i would be put on an fbi watchlist”

“gah damn”

“🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️”

[vidavalor]

You really think they've kissed before? I want to believe.

Dammit, Scully, the truth is out there! *rustles through file folders in the basement until uncovers the correct one and then flourishes it with an Aziraphale-ish "AH-HA!"* What about the other arrangement in The Arrangement scene in S1, perchance?

In The Globe Theatre scene, it is established that Crowley and Aziraphale each knew before the scene begins that they themselves are assigned to Edinburgh by their respective head offices later in the week but neither of them knew the other was until they learn from one another that they are during the course of the scene. As a result, triggering The Arrangement-- in the 'only one of them doing both of their work assignments' sense-- cannot have been why they were meeting up. We also learn early in the scene, though, that Crowley asked to meet without being specific as to why (which is an answer in and of itself, imo lol), other than to convey that it wasn't an emergency/they hadn't been caught because Aziraphale is relaxed and popping the food kinky Serpent of Eden's favorite fruit in front of him for the duration of the scene. So, Crowley asked to meet and Aziraphale picked the place-- this meeting is an *arrangement*-- but that is then subtly semi-hidden in the scene with some sleight of hand distraction that calls your attention to the revelation of the fact that they both can-- and sometimes do-- do each other's work. The scene about them doing each other's miracles is really also about them doing each other lol. Using past tense by using 'thought' in this bit of the scene though, Scully, kind of says a lot about the reason Crowley wanted to meet though, yeah?

Everyone so on about that 2.06 disaster that they've forgotten about the trailing-off-verbal-ellipsis-into-kissy-pout that is Crowley for Hell is sending me away for a few days so my first thought was that I want to see you and that I was willing to endure a few minutes of one of these depressing plays you like-- thank you for sparing me the first few acts with this meeting time, btw-- and show up with some love poetry and my glasses halfway down my nose and some big Bildaddy energy and see if I could flirt my way into your bed while you do that thing where you pretend to be scandalized by the thought while eating grapes in front of me because old movie chemistry, us, even though old movies haven't been invented yet so anyway, angel, what if I just pivot this straight into The Arrangement since you were hinting you'd be down for that by commenting on how my assignment didn't seem that difficult a moment ago and we'll see if the audience notices what the scene is inferring that it's implying by the fact that when you look at me, I pout at you *again* while suggesting only one of us goes to Scotland, furthering suspicions that The Arrangement isn't just about inventing occult/ethereal weekends for each other but that it's a sex game where whoever goes and does both of our work assignments gets to be the one to choose whatever they want in bed from the one of us who had the day off which is also why, instead of taking turns as we would if this were just about the miracles, we flip a coin because I live to cheat on the coin toss because anything you want, angel...

[dellalyra]

Hi love I’m back for a bit anyways I was going through my notes and I saw your folder with request ideas that I had and didn’t request yet and since you finally hit 2k i can still do it so yay!

You remember that scene in the manga where they had to train gojos infinity by basically throwing things at him? Yeah so what I was thinking is that moment and also just to make it funnier I just know they were throwing things at him at the speed of light just to make sure something hits him and they moved up to heavier massive objects just for fun so something like that please. :)

ᴜɴᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ - ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

Pixie Says: this was so fun soraya you are my queen I stg I loved writing this

“Did it hit?” You shout across the field.

“No! Do it again?” Satoru’s voice echoes back.

Shoko hands Geto another tennis ball, and he proceeds to fire it across the field - towards an unperturbed Gojo.

“What about that one?” Shoko asks.

“Nope! Do something bigger! Geto - where’s our basketball?” The white haired man says, with all the excitement of a puppy.

Geto rolls his eyes, but smiles slightly - a rare sight these days - as he wanders toward the dorms to grab his ball.

“Think fast!” Shoko shouts, throwing an apple at Gojo’s head.

The apple splits in half and falls to the floor as you and Shoko cheer with Gojo at yet another object infinity can reflect.

Geto jogs towards them, and tosses the orange basketball at his best friend - it bounces straight off and back toward Geto who grabs it in one large hand.

“Okay - we gotta think bigger.” You say, hands on your hips and looking around the courtyard.

Shoko strolls off, only to come back a second later with a chair from one of the classrooms.

“Jesus Koko - I meant like - a pillow.” You try to take the chair but Gojo interrupts by shouting ‘throw the chair!’.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, you allow Geto to swing the chair toward your man who is gleefully jumping at the prospect of having a chair flung in his direction.

The wood splits in half and falls with a clunk to the ground. Geto claps and whoops at the mess left, all four of you cheering, a mutual love of chaos being the thing that bonded you all three years ago.

“Okay but these are all like, blunt things. Can it stop weapons? Y/N, throw a knife at him.” Shoko says, patting down your thigh to find the holster you keep under your uniform skirt.

“Get your morguey hands outta my girl’s skirt, Ieiri!” Satoru shouts, tossing a tennis ball back at her.

“What about a knife, ‘toru?” You say, fully confident in your love’s abilities to not get stabbed (again).

You had been witness to his crazed intent to become stronger, and almost invincible, over the past few months since the incident. Marks left on everyone, a slight scar on Gojo’s pale throat, crisscrossed scars spanning the width of Geto’s broad chest - the scar of the sound of a gunshot penetrating a sweet girl’s head haunting every dream, hands stained with the blood of her best friends and the memory of shaking hands as she sewed their wounds shut for Shoko and the image of your soulmate bleeding out in your lap and the slash of scar across your thigh from the blow he landed as you tried to deflect him from Satoru.

If one good thing had come from it, it was the fact that it contributed toward the push you and Satoru both needed for getting your heads out of your asses and finally confessing just how much you loved each other that day after the mission in the abandoned hospital.

So you didn’t worry.

Shaking the thoughts from your head you whip your dagger out and spin it between your fingers.

“Ready, ‘toru.” You ask, smiling.

“Always, princess.” He smirks back.

You fling the knife with eerie precision toward him and see it clatter to the ground below an unscathed Gojo.

Another chorus of cheers erupts.

“We need to think even bigger.” Shoko says, deep in thought.

“I’ve got exactly the thing.” Geto says, smirk gracing his features as he looks straight toward you, and in one fast swoop you find yourself in his arms as he prepares to launch you across the field.

“Geto Suguru don’t you dare throw me! I swear to god I will fucking - AGHHHHHH.” Your words of warning are interrupted as you feel yourself fly through the air and then as soon as it started it stops with a jolt and a pair of strong arms wrapping around you, a sheen of sweat sticking to your skin.

You open your eyes, laughing at the turn of events, and see a pair of ice blue eyes, the colour which has been your favourite since you were 16, staring back at you with a wide smile.

“You caught me!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck and realising that he’s switched his infinity off to hold you.

“Only a fool would drop a girl like you.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile.

“I can’t believe you just quoted scooby-doo and kissed me.” You say, burying your head into his neck.

“You love me.” He says, shrugging.

“That’s exactly why I love you.” You giggle as he gently returns you to solid ground.

“I love you more, but now, I believe you have revenge to enact.” He pats your head, and fixes your shirt.

“I do, thank you, ‘toru.” A peck on the cheek as you stand on the tips of your toes. You smile at him, and turn around.

“GETO SUGURU! YOU BASTARD, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” You sprint toward the man who is laughing and beginning to back away slowly - away from the wrath of the future Mrs.Gojo.

[the-guilty-writer]

The Faces of Emily Prentiss

Request from anon: Could I request Emily Prentiss & teen!daughter? Maybe Emily doesn’t notice how her daughter pulls back and keeps to herself more and more because she struggles with her mom being gone so much recently and school being a lot for her (procrastination, problems concentrating when worrying about her mom, …). You can do with this whatever you like Gill, I’m just excited to read more of yours 🥰

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader (can be read as teen!reader)

Summary: reader’s grades have been slipping and it brings up many feelings between them and Emily.

A/N: Okay, wow, I did not expect for this fic to come out this long. Maybe I should write more mom!Emily because apparently it’s inspiring. Kinda angsty with a fluffy-ish ending. There were no places to put in pronouns, so even though it’s daughter!reader it can be read as teen!reader.

CW: brief mention of psych evaluation, Emily is an absent mother, one mention that Emily wears weapons, nickname for reader is “kiddo” (if you think you know why let me know and I’ll give you a pat on the back for the right answer), reader has hair but length is not specified.

---

Manila, in your opinion, was the worst color. Not because of the color itself, but because of the things adorned with it - walls poorly painted by landlords, rags that should have been thrown out years ago, the hair of the snooty girls at school, the tug-of-war rope used in gym class that always burned your hands.

Folders.

If you could have tossed the one your teacher gave to you into the trash, you probably would have. I might as well, you thought to yourself. The thing was destined to get lost in the pile of similar ones on your mother’s desk. Would you rather go to a landfill, or sit with a bunch of cases on serial killers?

The folder, expectantly, didn’t respond. If it did, you would have been worried for your sanity. Then the next folder that landed on Emily Prentiss’s desk would have been a concerning psychiatric evaluation instead of your report card. At least with the evaluation she might have to pay a little more attention to you.

The door to your mother’s home office was always open. She locked you away from too many parts of her already - and even though she was well aware that some of the information in that room was supposed to stay classified - the idea of locking you out of a room that was in your own home, was too physical for her to bear. Not that she would ever tell you.

You knocked on the wood softly, though you didn’t know why. She wasn’t home. She was never home anymore; knocking was just a polite habit. You put your hand to the knob and swung open the door, then found yourself disappointed when she wasn’t asleep at her desk. Knocking wasn’t a polite habit; it was a hope that, for once, she would be there to answer. A hope that was far out of reach.

You put the report card folder on top of the stack, becoming just another document that had to be marked with the initials E.P. before it could be filed away.

In a house this big, the quiet should have been eerie, but it wasn’t. The quiet was normal. You sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out your phone, opening to your messages with your mom.

Badass Maman:

Hey, kiddo. Leaving for an emergency case. Be back soon. (Received 2 days ago)

You:

Okay. I love you. (Delivered 2 days ago)

Yep. Normal.

It was still that way an hour later when you did your homework, and when the nanny came to check on you. It was that way when you went to bed that night and woke up the next morning. Everything about it was normal.

You wished it wasn’t.

---

Phones weren’t allowed in classrooms, but they were allowed in the hallways. A familiar ding went off as you walked with your friend to second period math. Your friend pulled their phone from their pocket and frowned.

“Did something happen?” you asked.

They shook their head. “No notification.”

You pulled your phone out, and the world stopped entirely when you saw it was a message from your mom.

Badass Maman:

Flying home now. I’ll be back when you get home from school. I love you. (Received Now)

Relief flooded over you.

“Did something happen?” your friend asked.

“My mom is on her way home.” For the first time in days, you felt air could fill the entirety of your lungs. The million-mile-an-hour heart that was beating in your chest slowed to a regular pace. The tension in your too-tight shoulders loosened.

You:

Okay. I love you too. (Read Now)

---

You had all but forgotten about the manila folder holding your report card. It hadn’t crossed your mind since you placed it on your mother’s desk. You hadn’t bothered to look inside when you received it, too focused on the cursed cover to think about the letters inside.

When you unlocked the front door and stepped inside, you called out immediately for her. “Mom! I’m home!” but there was no answer. “Mom?”

It wasn’t unusual for her to fall asleep on the couch, waiting for you to get home from school after being sleep deprived for days. Still, the living room couch was void of any life. You turned to the kitchen, but found nobody there. So you made the walk to the only other place your mother might go in the house after a case: her office.

The door was half-way open, but still, you knocked. A polite habit.

She turned from her seat at her desk, took in the sight of you, and smiled. Within seconds you were wrapped in her arms. Your head landed on her shoulder, while she ran a gentle hand through your hair.

“God, I missed you, kiddo,” she said. The exhaustion in her voice contradicted the strength of her embrace.

“I missed you too, mom,” you whispered. She held you for a little longer than normal, and when she did let go, you couldn’t help but profile her a little.

There were three different faces Emily Prentiss wore:

The Agent Face: a raven-haired, modern fem fatale that runs off enough coffee to kill a small horse, she walks through bloody crime scenes unfazed. She’s a no-nonsense attitude dressed in heeled boots and a glock. With intelligence sharper than a blade and a smart-mouth to match, it’s only fitting that she works for one of the most elite units of the FBI.

The Emily Face: always classy with a little bit of fun sprinkled in. She’s got a wicked sense of humor, a brilliant laugh, and a bright smile to match. The kind of friend who is down for a night on the town or a quiet movie night. This, you know, is the face she wears outside of work, around her friends; you can only imagine what this face looked like before the agency, and before you.

The Mom Face: the one you see the most. It’s the face that can’t cook to save her life, though she tries very hard. The one that celebrates your ups and supports you in your downs. She’s started to find a few more gray hairs as you've grown older, but that’s to be expected from a strong woman raising a child alone. The only one of the faces that’s unsure about if she’s good enough; everything in you wants to tell her she is.

The face she wore right now, seemed to be a combination of all three. She hadn’t been home long enough to have changed from her work attire into a normal tee shirt and jeans. You could see the traces of mascara on her shoulder where either Penelope or JJ had needed a friend’s shoulder to cry on. The unsteadiness that crossed her expression only ever appeared when it came to parenting… when it came to you.

“There were kids, weren’t there?” you said. And though her past was full of secrets, she didn’t bother keeping this one in.

“There were,” she sighed. Once again, she brought her hand to your hair, as if she were trying to sooth herself with the texture of it while making sure that you were real. “But it’s over now.”

You didn’t know if that meant the case ended good or bad, and you were thankful that you weren’t a good enough profiler (yet) to read the answer in her expression. “I’m gonna finish up some work and then we can catch up, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go do my homework.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you gave her a tight-lipped smile before she moved back to her desk and you moved towards the door.

“Open or closed?” you asked her, standing in the threshold.

“You can leave it open,” she replied.

It was her answer every time, but you still always asked. A polite habit.

---

Two hours later, you were still struggling through your math homework at the kitchen table and your mom was still in her office. Knuckles tightened around your pencil before you let it go with an exasperated sigh and crumbled up the loose leaf paper you were working on. You sifted through your notes, trying to find the formula, but you had either written it down incorrectly or not at all.

You pulled the textbook from your bag only to find that you’d forgotten to write down what section the class was studying. With your brain feeling fried inside your head, it made skimming through the chapter more difficult, and by the time you’d gotten to the end, you were no closer to figuring out the answer than when you started.

Fueled by frustration, a trail of French expletives left your mouth.

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least keeping up with your language studies.” You looked up to see your mom standing on the threshold of the kitchen.

Even in duck-print pajama pants, she still looked intimidating, leaning on one hip with her arms crossed over her chest. As soon as you noticed her stance, she began walking towards you, uncrossing her arms. In one of her hands was a dreaded manila folder. With the ease that only a master interrogator could have, she sat down at the table and pushed the folder towards you, opening it so you could see the grades inside.

You were sure the many files on her desk showed far more hellish images than your grades, but it even caught you off-guard to see that you were failing or close to failing every class. It dawned on you suddenly that your grades had been slipping, but you didn’t imagine that they had gone down so fast.

“I-” you started, but the shock was flooding you. Emily took the folder and closed it, pulling it out of your line of sight and snapping you back to reality. Your genuine reaction must have been enough to tell her that you were as unaware of the situation as she was.

“Kiddo,” she sighed. “What happened?”

Her voice and features softened - The Concerned Mother Face. It wasn’t one that appeared a lot… just when big things happened, like moving to a new country or faking both your deaths. That kind of stuff.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. This year has been…” With a shaky breath everything rose to the surface. “It’s hard to do things when I’m never sure if you’re dead or alive.”

A new face of Emily Prentiss formed in front of your tear-filled eyes. This one was vastly different from the others. It was exhausted from sleepless nights in random police stations across the country, when all she wanted was to be home; it was pain-filled from every wound she wore on her body that she insisted she didn’t need help cleaning; and it was that of a mother who had just brought home a newborn, with no clue as to how she was supposed to raise an innocent being into a human.

She said no words, only embraced you. After the familiar comfort of her arms calmed you, you went to pull away. She didn’t let you go. A spot on your shoulder had become wet with her tears. You held her tighter, and when a sob racked through her weary body, you hummed the tune of the ballad she used to sing you as a little girl.

Only when she began to sing the words of the song, you knew it would be okay. Only then, you could be sure that Emily Prentiss - the smartest, strongest, bravest person you had ever known - wouldn’t fall apart if you let go.

In French just as smooth as her English, she began to whisper the rhyme. A dozen times you had wondered why that was the primary tongue she chose to raise you with. You were passable in Spanish and Arabic, but it was the language of love that your mother had wanted you to speak fluently.

That reason was good enough.

The song came to an end and she pulled away to look at you, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

You shook your head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, mom. You save people.”

Emily sighed. “But I can do better letting you know that I’m safe. I can at least find time to make sure to answer your texts.” You looked down, feeling the slightest bit guilty. But your mom wasn’t a profiler for nothing. “Don’t you do that,” she said sternly - The Agent Face.

“But-”

“No buts. It’s you and me. It’s always been you and me.” A sneaky smile escaped from her lips. “Plus I promised myself I wouldn’t be like your grandmother and put my job in front of my children.”

That had the both of you giggling - The Emily Face.

She pulled you back into her arms, stroking a gentle hand through your hair. “I love you, kiddo.” - The Mother Face.

“I love you too, mom.”

[connorsbonez]

Stalkers and Cryptids

Pre-OT4, Established OT3

Bernard: So hear me out, but…*proceeds to talk about his theories while citing his sources.*

Wes, literally vibrating in his spot as he death-clutches one of Bernard’s Polaroid photos that he handed him: Oh…oh nooooo

{ - Later - }

Danny, abruptly being woken up by the intensity of Wes’ staring: …Will you ever realize how creepy it is to stare at someone until they wake up? It’s like you want to bring me completely to the dead side.

Wes, currently straddling Danny as he stares down at him: So I was hanging out with Bernard a while ago…

Danny, raising an eyebrow: Oookay? That’s Tim’s friend, right? The one he has a crush on?

Wes, nodding: Yep. A fellow ginger and conspiracy theorist.

Danny: Ah, so Tim does have a type, ginger and crazy.

Wes: I’m putting a pin in that for later because that’s not the point right now, but he also has a thing for black hair, blue eyed superheroes. I was hanging out with Bernard and…

Danny: Wait what-

Wes, leaning forward slightly: He told me his theories, with evidence and cited sources. Every single one of them. I listened to them all. They’re amazing even if some of them aren’t correct.

Danny, being hit with the realization: Oh boy.

Wes: I want that man carnally. *Lifting up a thick folder.* And I have several reasons why we should seduce him into our polycule, I’m sure once I tell Tim he’ll be on board since he has a crush on the man, and I’m sure you’ll love him too but it’s okay if you don’t.

Danny, running a hand through his hair: Okay. One, remind me to never let you go to one of those conspiracy theorists meeting ever, two, I’d like to hang out with Bernard before we make any official decision, and three….go finish your board so we can talk with Tim.

Wes practically tossing himself off the bed.

{ - Later/Extra - }

Danny: So…what exactly did you mean by Tim also having a thing for ‘black hair, blue eyed superheroes’?

Wes, sighing, and throwing a newspaper with Superboy on the front at Danny’s face.

Danny: Thanks stalker.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Any tips for picking back up in the middle of a revision without having to start over? I wrote a book in 2019 and started a major revision in 2021. I printed the book and tore it apart with notes and switching timeline events/chapters around. Now I look at all the notes that are good advice and I would like to apply this progress to the story, but it's so overwhelming and jumbled up 😵‍💫

I've also recently picked up a back-burnered project I've been dreading, only to realize the notes I wrote solved 99% of the problems I had. The only thing holding me back was me, and it sounds like you're in the same boat.

Draft A New Outline - Having a way to track what changes you need to make is helpful, like using an Excel sheet (I know, but it does work) or color-coding changes. This will help so much, especially if you need to track big changes.

Go Through and Highlight What You Like - You may have to throw out whole chapters, but there's reasons you don't want to. Note what you really like - a turn of phrase, a character moment - and see if you can fit it in elsewhere. Always keep that cut folder or document to dig through later.

Set Micro Goals (And Keep Them!) - It's easier to dive into a new draft than to revise an old one. Chunk your goals in easy to accomplish ways. Instead of tackling a whole chapter a day, tackle a scene or a page. Instead of revising 800 words a day, narrow it down to 500 or 300. I make a big chart with my revision goals on it, and you're damn right I slap a cute Daiso sticker next to each goal accomplished. It really helps.

Work Backwards, Revise Forwards - If you have an all new ending with bigger and better stakes, figuring out how to get your plot there may require stepping back, chapter by chapter, to see what subplots you should add or scenes that need to be moved around.

However - and this is just what works for me - working toward a revised draft means starting the rewriting/revising process from Chapter One. That way I don't accidentally cover the same ground twice, and catch when I need to start a subplot sooner or rework descriptions I've used more than once.

Move Past The First 50 Pages - Don't get stuck at the beginning! It's so tempting to revise the first act to perfection, but you might need two or three more drafts to get to the real end of your story, and that might mean tossing all that hard work out. Keep going, and if you find yourself getting caught into fixing Chapter 3 when you're not sure Chapter 30 works, make a note and move on. Finishing your second draft is just as important as finishing your first.

Good luck and keep going!

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello! I saw you're taking requests. Could you please write swayman x Reader with an angsty drabble using prompt

14."It's not what you think it is."?

Thank you!!!

My first Sway request! Thanks Nonny!

Enjoy🤍

He was definitely cheating.

You swiped at a tear and leaned back on your bed.

At first you gaslit yourself into thinking it was your paranoia talking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d jumped to assumptions and ruined a good thing so you tried to control it. You talked yourself down every time you got suspicious and insisted to your brain you were looking at things the wrong way.

In the past, a complete meltdown and a fight would have been the first thing to happen. But those guys had been different. You wanted to be careful with Jeremy so you kept it to yourself, and for a while it had worked. But your resolve was crumbling and cracking a little bit each day.

The signs were all there.

In the last few months he’d taken a number of phone calls that he left the room for. At first you thought maybe it was just a private conversation. But by now the private conversations had started to happen sometimes twice a day.

Random changing and cancelling of plans. Once or twice wasn’t enough to raise any alarms. Things happened right?

But the final straw was when you were sitting in your favorite dress waiting for him only for him to call and try and move your date to later on, and then deciding to cancel it all together.

And then there was the email you saw. Purely an accident. You might have been paranoid but you weren’t intrusive enough to search through his phone. But when it dinged while he was showering you leaned to look at the screen and saw an email from someone named Sarah you wanted to rip the curtain open and confront him right there.

But what really sent you over the edge was the phone call. This time you’d been snooping but you wish you hadn’t because you investigated so hard you hurt your own feelings. You’d let yourself into his apartment unannounced which had never been a problem, and you had a key for that exact thing and he mustn’t have heard you. You however could hear him on the phone in his room so you quietly made you way and caught the end of a phone call you were probably not supposed to hear.

“She’s gonna be here soon so I can’t talk long.”

You felt your heart slide into your stomach as whoever it was on the other line answered and he responded “No she has no idea, and I wanna keep it that way for now at least. She’ll find out eventually and then we’ll go from there.”

A tear ran down your cheek as he continued “No I can’t do that time. If I cancel plans with her again she’ll start to get suspicious, and then everything will get all messed up. How about Friday? She works in the afternoon so I’ll be free. Sound good? Okay great. See you soon. Bye.” He hung up and tossed down the phone.

Now you’d had enough. With a loud bang you threw open the door so hard it hit the wall and he jumped, whipping around.

“What the f-“

“Free for what?”

He frowned “What?”

“Free. For. WHAT?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You scoffed and pointed at the phone “What are you free for while I work in the afternoon? Some girl? Hmm?”

His went slack jawed and held up his hands “No I-“

“Save it. I KNEW it. I knew you were cheating on me. I’ve known for a long time, so spare me the denial I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and reached for you but you took a step back “It's not what you think it is."

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me what it is. You have 5 seconds.”

He loved to his beside table and opened the door, pulling a blue folder from it and sat down on the bed patting the space next to him “Come here.” He opened it and slid it to you “I’m not cheating on you, I’m doing this.” You looked at him confused as he continued “A vacation. A trip this summer for your birthday.”

You felt so dumb as you looked at the contents of the folder. Plane tickets, passport information, room number and excursion details. A surprise vacation that looked like he’d been working on for a while. You felt terrible.

“Jeremy I-I’m so sorry.”

Be he was smiling “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, I just wanted it to be a surprise is all. Guess I’m not very good at keeping secrets huh?”

“I shouldn’t have accused you.” He looked at your lap but he reached under your chin to pull up your head and look you in the eyes “It’s okay really. But next time just talk to me about it okay? I would never cheat on you. Now.” He handed you the booklet with a smile “Pick some things for us to do.”

[storiesofsvu]

Five Nights pt 3

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: teasing, language, smut, oral, face sitting. pt 3 of 4! I did not proof read this so.... apologies if there are typos or shit lol.

After the way his day had started, Aaron thought he might finally be able to feel some relief for a bit, finally knowing what it felt like to have his cock buried deep between your lips, that the fantasy would no longer be plaguing his thoughts while he was supposed to be working.

As it turned out, he was horribly wrong.

The day was a mix of spending time in the office and time trapped in an SUV with you. He was almost second guessing himself while you were driving to a scene, you were so nonchalant about everything he was nearly starting to think that he’d dreamt the whole thing. That was until you let out that adorable giggle when you caught him staring and made a joke. It was almost instant he felt his cock twitch in his pants and he cursed under his breath, taking a deep breath to try and regain focus only to lose it once again as your perfume invaded his senses.

Back at the precinct he began to let his mind wander as he made his way through menial paperwork, images from the night prior flooding into his mind, he could feel the way your cunt squeezed around his fingers, practically smell your arousal from across the room. The noises that came out of your lips while he made you come undone invaded his hearing, the way you moaned around his cock, how eager you were to do so, the pleasure you took from getting him off. He was certain you’d been wet over the idea of swallowing his cum down, which meant you were currently sitting in ruined panties. If he was so wrapped up in the sinful thoughts of what went on in your hotel room there was no way you weren’t thinking about the exact same things.

Aaron was right of course, even if you weren’t showing a single sign of being turned on on the other side of the table. You could feel the tingling between your legs when you thought back to how fucking good his fingers felt inside you, your pussy aching to be filled with his cock. You were dying to get your hands on him, part of you wishing you’d been bold enough to make a move in the car earlier. You let out a soft sigh, stretching out your body in your chair before pulling your hair up off your neck. You could feel eyes on you while you refocused on the case file and you knew they were Aaron’s, a sly grin on your lips as you scanned the text. You were back in work mode a moment later, eyes blinking a few times to clear your vision, you weren’t even aware you were doing it when the pen in your hand found its way between your lips.

“Tease.” The taunt was quiet, almost unintelligible when Aaron spoke and you glanced up, almost surprised to find the room empty except for the two of you.

“Hmm?” Your lips closed around the pen and he shook his head with a small laugh.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be hard under the table.” He muttered and a grin broke out on your lips as you giggled.

“Maybe that’s my whole plan.”

“Based on this morning’s festivities I’d say it’s time for me to return the favour.”

“What?” You chuckled, “here in the briefing room?”

“No.” He reached across the table, snagging the folder out of your hands and flipping it shut, “it’s late enough, get in the car. I need to taste that pretty little pussy.”

*

Aaron’s suit jacket and tie were tossed over the back of a chair, hands swiftly undoing a few buttons and rolling his sleeves up to be more comfortable. He had your pants and panties off in one smooth motion, the hem of your t-shirt tickling against your bare skin, cheeks heating at the fact that your pussy was exposed to him while still being half clothed. Eyeing you hungrily he dropped down onto the bed behind him, shifting until he was settled against the pillows,

“Well, get up here.” He teased with a grin and you let out a huff of a laugh, climbing onto the bed, straddling his waist as you settled above him, hands braced on his chest. “Uh-uh.” He spanked at your ass, squeezing it and nudging you, “I said up here.”

“Aaron I—”

“Up.” He repeated firmly, spanking your ass again before his hands gripped around your waist and practically lifted you until you were hovering over his face.

His mouth lurched upward, tongue swiping out through your folds, groaning over your taste and you let out a gasp, the sensation enough to have you dropping down so you were properly sitting on his face. His mouth sucked at your cunt, pulling your wetness out, smearing it against his lips. He sucked one of your lower lips into his mouth, slowly shifting over to the other before pulling them both in, mouth massaging at you gently. His tongue delved into your pussy, sinking in as far as he could reach while his hands groped at your ass, encouraging you to start to ride his face and his nose bumped your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You gasped, hands shooting out to brace yourself on the headboard.

His tongue swiped through you, lapping up your juices as he moaned, the vibrations pulsing through your cunt and you fluttered around nothing, starting to grind down against his face. His hands continued to roll your hips, encouraging you to pick up the pace as your breathing picked up, pleasure prickling its way through your body. His mouth slipped upwards, tongue flicking at your swollen clit and you shuddered, one of your hands sliding up your body, groping at your chest through your shirt.

“That’s it.” He murmured into your cunt, “keep playing with yourself.”

“Yes sir…” You breathed out, letting out a low moan as you pinched at your nipple right as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue tracing delicate patterns against it. Aaron was purposely riling your up, teasing you with his mouth so that he could get more time tasting you, he knew he would never be able to get enough of your sweetness. He also knew that he if held out as long as he could before absolutely devouring you, you would be a whimpering, dripping mess unable to resist absolutely grinding down onto his face and that was what he truly wanted, to have you use him the way he’d fucked your throat earlier.

He sucked at your clit for only a moment longer, feeling your thighs twitch under his fingers as his mouth dropped back down, his tongue swiping through your folds, moaning as he swallowed down your juices. His face shifted, stubble scratching against your skin before his teeth sunk into the tender skin of your thigh, pinching the flesh between them before sucking it into his mouth, eager to leave you with a mark so you’d never forget this night. One hand squeezed at your ass, the other one shifting between your legs, lazily playing with your pussy as you began to grind down harder onto his face. It wasn’t enough to drive you wild, but more than enough to tease you, your pussy fluttering around nothing while his fingertips dared to spread your juices around.

“Oh fuuuck Aaron…” You moaned out, your head dropping back in pleasure, your body shivering when his teeth bit into your thigh again and you whimpered, earning a smirk from him.

Once satisfied with his work, he pressed a soft kiss into the already forming mark before his tongue plunged back into you and you cried out, whines and moans getting louder and more frequent as your pleasure soared through you. Your hips rolled harder against him, grinding heavier into his mouth. He brought a hand up, spreading your pussy lips so he could get better access before blowing cool air onto your throbbing clit and you gasped, a breathy moan escaping your lips. His mouth returned to your cunt while his fingers continued to toy with your clit, pinching it, rolling it between his fingers as he ate you as deep as he could.

“Oh god.. that feels so good!” You groaned out, hands gripping the headboard tighter as you continued to ride his face. With a dark chuckle his mouth returned to your clit, sucking it between his lips as it pulsed between them and a two thick fingers slipped into your pussy, twisting and curling, exploring you as much as he could. Your cunt clenched around him, a cry breaking free of your lips as his fingers crooked, brushing right against your g-spot and he sucked your clit harder into his mouth, his tongue flicking against hit. Your body began to tremble above him, a string of swears and moans leaving your lips as fire tingled right under your skin, at a loss for words, broken down to whimpers and whines.

“That’s it sweet girl.” He cooed, lips brushing against of you as he spoke, the vibrations of his voice driving you absolutely wild as you ground harder against him, “come for me. Can you squirt all over my face?”

As if his ministrations weren’t enough, his words were nearly too much and you let out a cry at the double sensations, his mouth sucking at your clit while his tongue wrote letters against it, his fingers deep inside your cunt. The coil built up tighter and tighter within you until you cried out, your hips stalling as your orgasm rocked through you and your hips twitched multiple times, juices leaking out of your pussy. Aaron groaned out in pleasure, drinking down as much of your release as he could, taking the time to gently clean you up as you shuddered above him, his hands soothing up and down your bare thighs.

You fought to catch your breath, finally collapsing onto the bed beside Aaron, your chest heaving as your body continued to shiver in pleasure. You let out a small laugh, your arm tossed over your eyes,

“Holy shit…”

Beside you, Aaron chuckled, his hand tracing patterns onto your thigh, “you ever do that before?”

“No.” You replied breathlessly, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks, unable to want to meet his gaze as he grinned proudly.

“Well then I better try to see how many more times I can make that happen.”

“I won’t complain about that.” You laughed, finally moving your arm to glance up at him, still catching your breath.

Aaron smirked across at you, lifting his arm to wipe your juices off his chin before he leant in your direction. He was about to pull you to him, capturing your lips in what he realized would be the first time he’d kissed you when there was a brash knock at the door and the two of you jumped apart like lightning.

“Bathroom!” He hissed and you launched around the corner faster than you realized you could even move. Aaron managed to toss your discarded clothes behind the far side of the bed so they would be unseen, grunting quietly as he adjusted himself in his pants so his hard on wouldn’t be noticed before he pulled open the door.

“Oh, hey Hotch.” Morgan shot him a grin, “y/n here?”

“What?” You asked, your head popping around the corner, “I was just about to shower.”

“Oh come on princess.” He teased, “you promised me a game of pool, loser buys drinks, you can’t skip out on that.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, praying your cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt, “give me five.”

“You make it down to the bar before I get hit on and I’ll buy the first round of shots.” Morgan laughed, waving quickly before disappearing, the door swinging shut behind him.

“Fuck.” You muttered, dropping you head and pinching at the bridge of your nose before you scurried through the room, grabbing your panties and pants, tugging them back on before you managed to turn back to Hotch, repeating his original words back to him, “this isn’t over.”

You were gone through the door before he even had time to blink, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he huffed, palming at himself through his pants. It seemed like tonight would have to be another one that he took care of himself, fantasizing about how it would feel to have his cock buried deep in your dripping cunt.

“No… no it certainly isn’t…”

____________

@alexusonfire @svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @the-hopeless-haze @niyizh @ababanana @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13

[s0lam33y]

Chapter 3: Leave my Brain

summary: You haven’t seen your favorite surgeon in weeks, come to find out that she’s fallen ill.

A/N: I finally was able to sit down and write. Lmk what y’all think!

You wake up on your stomach, having been sleeping soundly all morning. You miss Shuri’s warmth and turn around just to breathe in her sharp floral perfume above you. You feel that warmth that you crave along your waist and the coolness of those rings almost makes you jump. Shuri kisses you on your lower back, spine, and neck, tenderly cupping a breast while she’s at it. You can already picture the drowsy smile on her face and tousled curls. Her hands embrace you and she does the work of turning you around.

“You look beautiful, baby.” She comments. Her nails scratch soothingly on your back as you soak her in.

“That’s all you,” You promise, leaning in for another kiss. She pulls away and leaves a thin layer of chapstick on your lips. Her hands lower to sit on the sides of your hips. She eventually lays on top of you, spreading her legs so she’s straddling you. Gentle marks cover her skin and she stretches, causing her shirt to lift to reveal toned abs.

“Y/N.”

You blink again and see Riri staring at you, nearly glaring. There’s no need for her to interrupt your dreams, especially on a weekend. You slide the pillow beneath your head to squeeze it above you in a poor attempt to tune her out:

“I ain’t mean to interrupt a’ight? Udaku said she got some documents she needs one of us to deliver and she’s sick, I figured you’d wanna do it but if not-“

You perk up at the sound of Shuri’s name. You shouldn’t be this whipped for someone who barely knows you but that doesn’t change the fact that you are.

“I got it.” You say almost immediately.”

“Don’t fuck my car up, there’s a court across the street and I’ll be there if you need anything.” She tosses you her car keys and watches you trip as you run out of bed.

…

You’ve always known that Riri’s car is nice, anyone with two fucking eyes would catch it but being the one to drive it is a different experience. Riri forwarded you Shuri’s address which was given to her by Dr. Vision. You’ll ask her more about how she got her number later.

You didn’t put in too much effort into getting ready or at least you’ve convinced yourself that wearing some makeup and your favorite pair of leggings is somehow casual at all. After 15 minutes of driving, you reach Shuri’s place, it’s surrounded by a park and you can’t ignore the lush fountains at the entrance. She lives in the penthouse that you remember Riri mentioning over the phone on your way here. You carry the folders in one hand as you move toward the building.

It looks expensive, to say the least. You make your way to the elevator and the top floor. You knock once, twice, and a third time for good measure. You hear words in a language you don’t understand before the door clicks open.

“I want to drop these off.” You force out, sucking in a breath as she picks up a file. She doesn’t look a bit sick at first, or you think until you hear the sound of her voice. Sweat drips down her forehead and she rolls her neck like she’s too hot.

“T-thanks.” She sighs, her voice hoarse and fragile. She nods, wincing and you don’t mean to touch her but you reach for her forehead with the back of your hand. She looks thinner than she already is, losing muscle definition in her arms.

“I’m fine, really, L/N, thank you for dropping these off, it would be a shame if I got you sick as well.” She insists as she waves off your arm. She shifts on the balls of her feet and you notice the mass of fur next to her ankles. You’ve never been a dog person at all but you feel indifferent to Cats.

The silence between you feels deafening until you realize that she’s fallen asleep while leaning against the door frame. You reach a hand out and she jumps at the contact.

“I can help you look through them real quick.” You suggest and she has no energy to protest. She steps to the side and you’re in awe at her space. She has a beautiful island with black granite and black mixed with gold accented all around the room. Her lights are low and warm and a fireplace sits against her wall in front of her lush couch.

Compared to your own Kitchen, this one is…yours is nothing compared to it.

That’s not the best part though, she has a beautiful view of the city that makes your eyes widen.

“Take a seat.” She suggests, her cold fingers catching you by surprise as they splay across your back. You sit on the couch and she sits right next to you, her legs crossed and eyes bloodshot.

“Let’s begin.” She orders.

…

You’ve watched Shuri move in and out of sleep as she tries to keep up with your words. Her arm rests on the arm of the couch as various papers are glued to both her legs and your own. She mumbles over and over again in an attempt to stay awake before finally slumping into the couch. She jolts awake a couple of times and you can’t keep watching the woman suffer.

“Dr…I think it’s best if you get some rest, have you eaten?” You ask already knowing the answer, her home is pristine not a single crumb of food evident in here.

“Mhm?” She faintly asks and that is enough to tell you that she hasn’t. She’s too far gone to say anything once you begin to scroll through your phone. You settle on some Indian food tonight, it’s filling and the restaurant is close enough for the food to still be warm by the time it gets here.

Her arm raises to rest on the couch and behind your head.

“Put Netflix on for me.” She requests. She’s finally accepted your help.

…

You and Shuri let out a laugh as she finally set down her plate. You usually hate watching rom-coms but Shuri has excellent taste. She was sluggish when you first got here and although she’s still so tired, you’ve finally gotten to experience her outside of work. She’s more carefree, less irritated and her smile is stunning. You see how she and Vision make such great friends.

The credits roll around and both of you know that your night has come to an end.

“It’s dark out, Y/N, You should go home, yes?” She suggests and you look outside too, it’s pitch black and you realize that you’ve been out since the morning. You check your phone to see multiple texts from Riri.

Williams 🩻

‘Wya’

11:01 AM

‘Hello?’

11:45 AM

‘Did sum happen to my car?’

11:56 AM

‘Are y’all fucking?’

3:08 PM

‘Please tell me yall AINT do shit in my backseat.’

3:09 PM

‘It’s late you good?’

9:32 PM

“Go, Y/N, I’ll see you at work soon.” Shuri murmurs, bringing you back to reality. You stand up and feel her eyes on you as she follows you to the door. A grateful smile graces her features and before you rush out she speaks.

“Text me, when you get home.” But she doesn’t have your number and before you can mention it, she beats you to it.

“I snuck it in when we were watching our show.” She points out. Her eyes aren’t any less red but her glance is soft.

“I hope you feel better.”

“I do.”

….

When you finally make it home, it’s nearly midnight but you feel like you’ve just woken up. Refreshed, ready to take on the rest of the night. The car ride home was full of you blasting music in Riri’s car and thinking about your boss that you really shouldn’t be thinking of. You hear Riri’s voice as you step into your home.

“I’ll call you back later.” Her voice is light, there’s a little chuckle and no I love you at the end so it can’t be her sister. Her sister is the only person she calls. You enter the Kitchen to find her leaning back against the counter.

“Yo, I have been fucking callin’ all day.” She scolds. You’re too giddy to fight back.

“Who were you on the phone with?”

“Nunya, Were y’all fucking in my car, I just got my shit detailed-”

“No, we were not, I wish we were but no, She was sick and I nursed her back to health.” You proudly say as you sit on the barstool across from her. She looks ready for bed, a bonnet on her head and sweats on. She’s not wearing a regular sports bra, instead, she has a hoodie on and you’ve known Riri for long enough to know that she hated wearing Hoodies to bed.

“What’s up with the hoodie?” You question, watching her swallow a small lump in her throat.

“Nun, I’m cold.” She shrugs, escaping your interrogation as she walks upstairs. She has something going on and you try hard to think about what she could be hiding. She hung up the minute you got in and she’s wearing a hoodie to sleep.

You can’t think for long because your phone buzzes in your pocket. You retrieve just to see a text from an unknown number.

- Are you home safe?

Your fingers shake as you type up a reply.

- Yea, shouldn’t you be asleep?

Her bubble disappears and then reappears.

-Yes I wanted to make sure you were home safe, I can sleep in peace now.

The last chunk of her message makes your heart drop.

-Goodnight, Shuri.

- Night Y/N.

She’s barely done a thing and somehow, you want her more than you did during that damn dream. You make your way upstairs to resume the dream from the night before.

@6-noir @goldqueen12 @likemick @h34rtsformilli @thtgirlllmona @euph0ricx0 @xchoxix @desswright29 @jordisblogg @imnotb @imjusthere2readbruv @shurisnovia @shurisvibranium @risingoftime @lppriceisright @pocketsizedpanther

y’all gon hate me for the fifth chapter