#in any case i need a better body language master list

[s0fter-sin]

i think the worst part of the way i write is when something’s close to done, it feels like i’m just plugging holes instead of polishing it off? i write completely out of order, generally with dialogue first and it ends up feeling like “okay it’s been a few lines, add some body language, now an environment change, now an observation” and it feels stilted and disconnected. i mostly end up fixing the flow but man does it make finishing and editing drag on

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ part 2

Part 1 - Master list

Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 

He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 

Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 

He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 

His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 

The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 

When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 

The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 

Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 

What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?

“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 

He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 

“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 

“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 

“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 

“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 

“Not if it’s your name.” 

“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 

“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 

Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 

“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 

“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 

“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 

They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 

Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 

Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 

“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 

Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 

Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 

“Yes, but not this Earth.” 

Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 

“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 

“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 

“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 

There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  

When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 

“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 

Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 

Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 

“Of course.” 

Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 

Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 

“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 

“Eighteen.” Tim said. 

“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 

“The bridge?” 

“Balance. The living and the dead.” 

Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  

Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 

“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 

Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 

Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 

“Exactly.” 

“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 

“Exactly.” 

Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 

“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 

“I’ll put them at ease then.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 

“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 

It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 

Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 

“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 

They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 

He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 

The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 

“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 

“You cook?” 

“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 

Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 

Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 

“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 

“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 

Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 

Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 

“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 

“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 

It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 

They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 

He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 

“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 

“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”

“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 

“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 

Tim stared, “What?” 

Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 

“Yeah?” 

The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 

They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 

“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”

The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 

Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 

“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 

Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 

“I gotta kill my brother…” 

Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.

“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 

“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 

“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 

Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 

“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…

[echoedcrosshairs]

Those Who Fight Together - part four

Summary: Undescribed Jedi female continued story with The Bad Batch in 3rd person 🖤Smut with a Plot series🖤

Warning: NSFW, Crude language, Violence, Battle Wounds, PiV, Self pleasuring, Angsty Angst Crosshair,

Word Count: 6.5

18+ NSFW NO MINORS

Part 3 Part 5

Story Master List

Tech looked at you doing nervously, aware if he's suppose to display manners or kiss you like regular people do before their about to they leave. He fiddled with his googles taking a small gulp, opening and closing his mouth. He didn't like the feeling of not knowing what to do, he turned to unlatch the door when he felt you against his back and your hands on his chest.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Nothing, just wanted too. I'll try to be quick."

Both of you walked out with a clear path, everyone was probably with Hunter waiting. You felt a pit start in your stomach, everyone's mind was loud and you could tell it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation when you got there. You held your head up high and your change of clothing under your arm as you walked your way into the bathroom. As much as a warm shower sounded the best thing in the Galaxy right now, you turned on the cold water to try to quiet your own distracting thoughts. You've been in a lot of compromising situations but this was definitely for the books. You took the soap, scrubbing every inch of your body but taking special care to scrub your lower bits a second time around just in case. You could feel the anger starting to boil over, starting it's count down until things broke lose. You hurried to dry yourself but your hair refused to, you kept your towel around your shoulders so if any let left over water would have something to drip on.

Crosshair leaned against the wall with his hairs crossed, "Are we seriously considering this?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"Have the regs pick her up and go on our merry way towards the temple."

"I kinda enjoy having her around" Wrecker admitted, "plus when's the last time we had someone around who wasn't a reg?"

"We've never needed someone else around," Crosshair argued, "Why start now."

"We're the only GAR squad with out a Jedi, it would be beneficial to have one especially one who isn't like the rest," Echo chirped at him, logically still combing over the idea of having her stay with them.

"To add, her connection to the force would be beneficial to us out in the field and she's work outside the scope of the Jedi council so taboo matters wouldn't matter. She does have a plethora of knowledge that clone intelligence does not which would also benefit us," Tech chimed in.

"Plus it's just nice having a girl around," Wrecker added.

"I'm surprised the smell of your bunk hasn't kicked her off the ship."

"Hey it's not that bad!"

"Are we all in agreement then?" Hunter asked eyeing each of this brothers who gave a small nod except Crosshair.

"Fine," Crosshair said flipping up a toothpick and sticking it in his mouth, "but it's a bad idea."

"What's a bad idea?" You said stepping into the room.

"We want you to stay here," Wrecker said looking at everyone, "you would be very beneficial to the team," Wrecker said attempting to immaculate Tech who rolled his eyes and covered his face.

"Isn't me being here the problem?"

"What he was trying to convey is that we've come to almost unanimous decision that we want you to stay here with us permanently."

"Sith's hell, they want you to stay here to fuck all of us and be apart of this squad," Crosshair said switching out toothpicks.

"I—."

"Crudely putting it yes," Tech said standing up attempting to hide his nervous leg shake "It's rather late, I am going to turn in for the night."

"I didn't take you for the running away type."

"I am not, but given I've been awake since before the rest of you."

"You brought this up, you should be the one to see it through."

Tech jaw tighten and rubbed the side of his face, leave it to Crosshair to find his one embarrassing moment; "Yes it was my idea however if I remember correctly," he said raising his index finger, "which I do, just wanted to leave her on a nearby planet which seems hardly fair given it was us, namely yourself and Hunter, who put her in this position not the other way around."

"I haven't put her in any position unlike you," he flung the gnawed on toothpick at him.

"More than you'll ever do ," he said smacking away the toothpick midair, noticing the sound of aggravation and bitterness between him.

"At least Tech kisses better," you deliberately pointed at him, murderous rage boiling across his face.

"Thank you."

"Who says I was trying," sneer covered in his voice.

"Tech kissed her?" Wrecker said smacking his arm knocking him forward with a laugh, "Ha, I thought you were different."

"And screwed her."

"Really" he said smacking him again, "I thought you were like a reg and didn't feel that stuff."

"Just because I don't express myself, doesn't mean I can't. Also regs can," he said massaging his arm.

"It's getting late, I'm going to catch some sleep before first shift" Echo said standing up, "Try to keep them from killing each other," he whispered  walking by.

"No promises."

"Do you want to sleep on the proposition?" Tech asked.

"Actually I'm exhausted."

"I'll drop you off."

"I can-" he already picked you up before you could finish your sentence.

He was warm, so very warm, your eyes started fluttering shut. Wrecker attempted to set her down she didn't move. He checked to see if she was still breathing but heard a soft snore answer him. He squeezed himself down to fit both of them under the door frame and laid her down on the bed and pulled the blankets over her. Wrecker may play dumb alot but he understood a great deal more then he lead on but he didn't quite understand why his squad was fighting over her. She's pretty and likes to fight, what so bad about her like them? He shrugged to him, with a big yawn and left the room. He found Tech standing outside pacing.

"She's asleep, night Tech," he said walking off the the bunk.

"Pathetic," Crosshair mumbled out of the shadows heading towards the pilot seat.

As soon as he passed, Tech quietly entered your quarters trying to wake you. His fingers quickly disconnected the armor and carefully placed on the floor. He put himself under the covers and put his arm around her, trying to make up for not being able to earlier.

"Good night, Tech.." she mumbled curling more into his arm before going back to sleep.

"Good night, Reaper."

Crosshair played with the toothpick by gently gridding his teeth against it. He put his feet up on the dash and crossed his arms over his chest. He doesn't run from anything, why did he run from her? That mistake not only humiliated him, it made him feel like a coward and gave raise to doubt that he could outdo whatever Hunter and Tech did to her. He could hear her moans and it was the only thing in his head causing his mind to wander about the faces she made. He stuck his hand down his pants adjusting his pulsating cock so it lay in a more tolerable position, his breath hitching against the cold touch of his hand. He quickly withdrew it, he wanted to relieve himself but didn't want to have to clean up the mess.

Crosshair thought about Tech standing outside your door, hearing it side open and shut knowing he walked in. Anger boiled up, he already had her twice by the sounds of it did he really have to rub it in their faces.

"You can relax, from what he said about what he was reading apparently sleeping next to each other afterward helps the oxytocin form emotional attachments. Although I think he was looking for an excuse not to be snuck in a room with you" Hunter said taking the co pilot seat.

"Wouldn't blame him, I would have slept with one eye open too."

"Would you have really jettisoned her out the air lock on an inhabited planet?"

"You tell me."

"Crosshair, I know you and the rest of us don't see eye to eye on the matter but you don't have to be apart of it if you don't want too; go find a brothel on the next planet and work whatever it is out."

"Like you worked it out on her?" He scoffed.

"At least I act on it instead of being consumed by it. Just think out it, ya?" He stood up putting a hand of his brothers shoulders before leaving.

Crosshair sat in silence watching worlds go by, ships pass by but let his eyes wanders to the planets below trying to imagine what domestic life would be like and that thought disgusted him.   They were the best soldiers in the army destined to be even greater, the thought of not being a soldier made his stomach contents threaten to come up then he realized they wouldn't have too. She wasn't like the Jedi fighting for peace because he saw the same look in her eye that every soldier does. She fought because it was fun.

"Maraunder, this is WolfPack One do you come in? Over."

"What can we help you with?" Crosshair said turning on the holo to find General Plo and Commander Wolffe.

"Meet us at these coordinates, highest speed possible with the cargo on board."

"Yes sir."

Crosshair got up, realizing he was going to have to walk in on her next to Tech in who knows what state. While it had been hours since since she went to bed, maybe they had learned to be quiet. Crosshair didn't want to keep thinking about the position he could Tech in you. His still semi hard dick moved, agh, he let out walking into her room. She was soundlessly asleep her back pressed into Tech and her arms curled around his.

"Get up."

"Go away."

"General Plo is meeting us on a moon not far away."

Crosshair mused as that caused her to sit up, swinging each naked leg over the bed. His eyes trailed up her perfect legs to a simplistic grey underwear covering her. He noticed Tech staring him, unamused with a concerned glint in his eye, probably thinking he was a nerve burner. She noticed the stare down between the two and shooed Crosshair from the room.

You rushed through it your armor together putting on your boots, by the time you were Tech was already dressed and waiting by the door unaware if he should have left or if waiting was the correct decision. You were excited to see Master Plo and the boys. You practically skipped your way to the docking ramp.

"What do you think this is about?" Echo asked appearing at your side.

"Not a clue, hopefully it's something fun."

"Thrill junkie," Crosshair purred.

The ramp went down, you made sure you were the first off the ship to meet the battle going on around you. A small handful of troopers on the ground with even more droids littered the ground. You looked out to see Master Plo in the distance engaged with several Magnaguards.

Drawing your lightsaber "Lock up the ship, no one goes in. Protect the cargo," you said running head first in the droids both yellow ends of your saber twinkling against the destroyed droids.

Keeping the saber spinning you deflected shots flying towards you, making your way to Master Plo. You sliced any droid who was stupid enough to get close to you. Blaster fire screams in your ear drowning out everything while your vision tunnels to your object. Blast reflect off your custom Beskar, but one manages to break the plastoid that covered your shins. Your leg faulters and you slam down on your knee with a small crunch. You forced your leg back up, twisting your saber and disconnecting the ends.

"Alright who did that," you yelled at the droids around you.

They stopped shooting to scratch their heads and look at each other.

"Didn't you do it?" One droid said looking at the other.

"Oh I think I do," you disconnected the head from the droid, kicking it across the field before it hit the ground.

The droids started shooting again, you jumped landing behind two of them and disconnecting them. You continued bouncing your way to Master Plo while you assumed Crosshair picked off the droids flanking you.

"Master-" you start to say as blast rip through your left arm, leaving it sensational-less the lightsaber falling out of your hand and rolling away.  Another blast hitting your back, going cutting through your side

"REAPER," Wolffe shouted behind you, sliding towards the still light saber using it to level the approaching droids.

"Get her out of here!" Plo shouted at him.

"Sir-"

"Protect the Cargo on her ship, we will rendezvous back on Kamino. Go Commander!"

Wolffe switched off the saber, quickly tucking them on his side and tossing her on his back and running towards the ship. Wrecker met them half way tossing the rocks at the droids while Wolffe got her aboard the ship, shutting orders to abort. Tech flew to the pilot seat taking off.

"Stop looking down at me like that, that was fun," he heard her mutter.

"For krikes sake, you might be more of a a soldier then us clones," Wolffe said with a small laugh.

"Speak for yourself," Crosshair said looking down, seeing red.

"It's just an arm and maybe a rib."

"Mother of Kwath Reaper!" Wolffe said relaxing the anger in his voice, "If you go down who's suppose to outdrink the boys with me?" he said exhaling.

"Don't worry mesh'la, it'll take a whole lot more then some measly droids to take me down plus who needs both are," you joked trying to keep the pain from being shown.

"Here," Hunter said running over pain patches.

"I'm not going to even ask how you have these without a medic," Wolffe said ripping down your sleeve and sticking the patches on, "How long is it going to take to get to Kamino without being able to punch it?"

"Days," Hunter gritted out.

"Don't have that, do you think you could hold a shield around it for a couple moments?"

"It's to risky-"

"Vencuy, can you."

"Fine, bring me and the bomb to Tech, we'll have to do it at the same time."

"I got her, get the cargo," Hunter said scooping her up while Echo dashed to get it.

"Change of plans, she's going to try to hold the bomb in stasis while you get us to us Kamino.

"The probability of that working is slim, I do agree we need to need to get her to a tank with haste but that could kill all of us."

"Fine. General Plo, do you come in?"

"We've made it off the planet with heavy casualties, is the cargo safe?"

"Yes sir, I'm recommending a ship to ship extraction we can't use the hyperdrive with the bomb on board please advice."

"We'll bring you both onboard, stand by."

"I'm going to take a nap," you said letting your eyes close.

"I just dragged this thing here," Echo said rolling his eyes, backing out of the room with it.

"You care to explain what the nicknames were about?" Crosshair said staring down at him.

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

"I also want to know," Hunter said.

"When I was a shiny, we're trapped in an AT-TE for twenty six rotations together one thing lead to another... and ended. My loyalty to General Plo and to the republic had to come first."

"Like I said, she's been with every Reg" Crosshair tried to sulk off, a fist colliding with his face.

"Disrespect your commanding officer again and I will have you striped of rank."

"Calm down," Hunter said stepping between them, "You're going to work it out like I told you before we get to Kamino. Get her here there safely."

Wolffe scooper her up and took her to the awaiting ship, "put her down for a moment," General Plo said, before she even touched the floor he force lifted her and pulled her over.

Wolffe jumped across, happy to be away from the crew how definitely had some screws lose, "She'll be alright. She's strong, I can feel how heavy your worry is, we'll be there soon."

"Not soon enough," Wolffe mumbled standing up and grabbing the rail.

"Patience."

It's going to be a long day, Wolffe thought. Upon landing the ship a medical crew was waiting to transport her. Doing his best to not worry about his dearest friend he followed General Plo who stopped him, "Go see that she's taken care of."

"Yes sir," he replied heading towards the medical crew starting to hook her up to their machines.

He stayed within a reasonable pace to stay out of there way but to be able to hear the reports. Mild internal bleeding but he sigh when the head Kaminoan said she'll make a full recovery. Taking her off the tank he stayed outside the room, waiting. Obi and Cody came shortly after.

"General," he greeted with a nod.

"How is she?"

"Wanted a robotic arm but much to her disappointment she'll make a full recovery."

Obi scowled, "Both of my Padawans ended up theatrical, brilliant."

The dreams that kept you conscious in the tank were images of remote planets you've never seen before, dark clouds spreading across a darkening sky. A planet covered in clothes, random battle fields and buildings but never in perfect clarity and slightly distorted.

You awoke to Clone Force 99 and Obi standing around you, Obi not even trying to hide his annoyance. Hunter's face read concern, Tech's was soft, Echo's was relief and Wreckers showed excitement but you realized Crosshair wasn't around.

"Where's Snarky?" You asked sitting up with a yawn.

"He was ordered to attend to some personal matters, how do you feel?" Tech asked.

"Like I want to sleep."

"You've been sleeping for three days, how was that not enough?" Wrecker asked confused.

"It wasn't restful."

"Oh?" Obi cut in.

"Yeah saw a lot and understand none, lots of planets and darkness. Anyway, where's the Artifact?"

"One of your sisters picked it up before you got to Master Plo, he was coming to bring you back before the Separatist ambush."

"That's a relief anything worth it?"

"Haven't been able to translate it yet, I'm just glad you're okay."

"If a droid takes me out, don't bother burying me in a temple," you said laughing, "I am being serious though," you said laughing more.

You kicked your legs over the med bay bed and stood up, twisting your arm and shoulder checking every muscle and tendon. Everything seemed in order, then you pulled up your shirt to check your ribs. Not even a scar.

"Nice," you said dropping.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, may the force be with you," Obi said leaving.

"So when we're you going to say something about that Mandalorian armor? That was awesome" Wrecker said.

"There's many things you don't know about me."

"Ha, we got plenty of time if you've thought about sticking around."

"Warning you boys though, I am a walking magnet for trouble."

"So are we," Echo smiled.

"I'll talk to my sisters later, don't think they'll care we all do our own things most of the time anyway. Mind showing me around? Never actually been here before besides a quick landing."

"We have to stop at our room first, don't mind the dirty looks."

"Don't think I get any? I get plenty for being a Jedi and a soldier, what's a few more."

He was right, every trooper who saw us walk down the corridor turned their heads and even disgust when we turned into their bunk rooms "That could have gone way worse," Tech mumbled heading towards the table in the middle.

"The smell," Echo said coughing.

"Eh it's not that bad," I said strutting in, while it did smell bad many animals smelled worse, "not as bad as I was expecting."

"See" Wrecker said slugging his arm.

You realized it was your armor on the table that Tech was messing with, you walked over to find the damage that he was trying to repair. The armor was a lot more banged up then you remembered which was probably why everyone was standing around because you were probably hurt more then it looked.

"Damn, I got banged up," you said tracing your fingers over the blaster marks.

"They were shooting at you close range with very diluted Beskar what did you think was going to happen?" Tech said looking up.

"She sure got a lot of clankers though!" Wrecker said patting your back walking off to his bunk, "Just try to be more careful next time. You worried us,"

"Yeah I've outgrown the armor, haven't been able to stop and get it properly fixed."

"Where you mandalorian?" Hunter said slipping his arms around your waist kissing your neck then resting his chin on your shoulder.

"That's complicated, but you could say I was. I don't really remember it before the order took me in."

"You came from Concordia, the moon of Mandalore," Tech said not meaning it as a question.

"Yes, my parents were from Mandalore but didn't agree with the politics."

"We can go sometime to get your armor fixed" Echo offered.

"I don't remember the last time I was even there, but I'd like that," Hunter started kissing your neck a couple more times, "it'll be fun," he whispered.

"It's as good as it's going to get without being remade," Tech said setting down his tools, catching a glance at a distracted Hunter, "I'm going to go to the mess."

"I know I'm starving," Hunter whispered.

"Let's go get some real food, I've been out for days and you can't tell me that stuff is food."

"Better then rations," Echo agreed.

Hunter let go of you in defeat, "Go hold his hand or something, he hasn't slept," he said guiding you towards an already walking off Tech.

A rosy blush spread across your face and a smile pulled on your lips, "A little birdy told me you've been worried," you said slipping your fingers into his.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" He said messing with his googles, "Yes I have, part of the blast clipped your spine."

"Please get some sleep tonight," you said noticing all of the dirty looks upon entry of the mess, Tech attempted to drop your head, "Let them look."

"I'm not sure if that is wise. The regs are very vocal about their displeasure about us."

"Oh they'll be sorry for saying something," Wrecker said with a knuckle crack.

You followed them through the self service line, noticing every set of eyes taking a peek at you. You all sat in between Hunter and Tech which was not probably not a good idea, they each had one hand on your thighs.

"Oh look the sad batch and their... prostitute. Bunch of defects."

Echo groaned and Wrecker stood up, but Crosshair beat them to it hitting the clone as hard as he could one handed with his lunch tray, "Ever speak to a Jedi like that again and I think being decommissioned is going to be the least of your problems," grinning with full smug.

"A Jedi- I am so incredibly sorry General," the trooper stood at attention saluting.

I stood up and walked over to him, walking a circle around him looking him up and down, "Your heart is full of hate and you think your brothers are lesser than you. Just because someone is different doesn't make them lesser. All clones are not just copies. You all are unique with your individual personalities, how you style yourself, accents, so what if they look different? You bleed the same blood and you are brothers in this war now go eat."

The trooper swallowed, "Yes Sir," he said putting his hand down and walking over to a table.

"Aww I wanted a fight," Wrecker said sitting down.

"Didn't expect you to be back so soon" Hunter asked between bites.

"It was an easy decision," he said sitting down with the bowl of soup he saved.

"How much did you have to pay her to deal with your attitude," Wrecker said laughing, "probably a lot."

I raised an eye brow at them but Crosshair and Hunter wouldn't look at me. I didn't press the matter, what or who Crosshair does in his free time is none of my business. Echo tried to make conversation with all of them but no one was really chatty anymore, so you talked with him to fill the silence.

"Do you have a fond memory of this place" I asked him.

"There was this Clone 99, he was wise and caring. He helped pull my squad together and helped us passed our last test. We would have failed without him... Kamino came under attack and he died protecting all of us."

"He wasn't like the other clones was he?"

"No he definitely wasn't but he was definitely a better person than half the troopers here."

"That's beautiful."

"Do you have a fond memory?"

"Obi took Anakin and I to this planet which was entirely a library, it's when I decided I wanted more myself," you stood up with your tray noticing the drop off area, "I'm going to go back and nap."

"I'll go with you," Echo said getting up with you, "I'm not excited for that storm to blow," he added once out of the mess.

"It's none of my business but what was that about anyway?"

"Crosshair is always been insufferable at times but it's been exceptionally worse since you arrived and even worser since Hunter and Tech did what the rest of us especially he wanted too. So he got ordered to go get it out of his system..."

It stung but it was for the best "Wrecker was right, probably a lot."

"You can take my bunk if you want," Echo said pointing the nicest kept one of the bunch, "I have adjustments to make any way," lifting his data port.

"Thank you," a yawn escaping you.

Sleep was the idea, but it didn't last long once the rest of the squad came back. You kept your back turned to them, still pretending to sleep.

"Did you have to hit him so hard with the tray?" Hunter said.

"He's lucky that's all I did."

"She's decided to stay with us," Tech said fiddling  with her armor, "the reason why is beyond me."

"Wait so you thought of it but didn't actually think it was an option?" Echo said in disbelief.

"We didn't have long to discuss it before she walked in and I wasn't the one who brought it up nor was I the one who put it so crudely, I didn't expect her to actually consider it after that."

"I'll wake her up," Hunter said waking over to you, "I know you're trying to sleep, but might as well get this over with," he said gently caressing your face.

"Do any of you actually sleep," you mumbled sitting up, you sat yourself up on the edge of the bunk, "Yes?"

Tech motioned for a seat next to him,  with mild reluctance of leaving the warm bunk you went and sat by him, "As I was going to ask before someone's had to chime in the other night, yes, most of us, want you to remain here with us. As you are aware you've caused varying reactions in this squad and we would like to attempt to see how it goes; unless you have reservations which would now be the time to voice those."

"It would help to know everyone else feels," you ask trying to reflect being the center of attention a little longer while you're trying to wake up.

"Well, I like ya. You're definitely different. Oh and you don't mind blowing this up, that's an important quality."

"It's incredibly hard to quantify a feeling I have yet to understand, yet I might with time understand it."

"I don't really know," Echo said awkward rubbing the back of his head, "ever since Skako I haven't really thought about romance or women, but I think I like you."

"I think you were personally made for me, in more ways then one and I definitely wouldn't mind have you watch my back in a fight,” after a long paused Hunter arched an eye at the silent squad member “Crosshair?"

"I don’t care, we all collectively find her hot what do feelings have to do about it?.”

“I know that’s a lie,” you said walking up to him letting yourself feel the emotions, “I won’t make you say them but I know you didn’t care of that personal matter,” you smiled at him, bold and cocky.

He stood up and eyed you down, trying to size you down. Crosshair didn’t like his emotions being known or even talking about them. His eyes squinted down at you, his breathing deepened and his heart picked up the pace. You stared up him trying to match his intensity. His backed down, sitting back down on bunk. Which got a lot of raised looking glaring at him. He kept thinking about there was nothing that he could give you that they couldn’t and probably better.

“Is that why you wiped your mouth because you feel like you’re not good enough?”

He shot up so fast, spinning you into the wall with a thud, “Shut it” he growled.

“Like you shut your mouth and walked out?” You said poking at him.

“Shut it,” he growled, his nostril flaring.

“I don’t think you took care of that personal probably,” you said flashing your eyes down and than back up at him.

He backed down and walked over to the ration box, grabbed a snack and munched on it staying on the other side of the room. Everyone was taken back what they witnessed, Crosshair had always been the most composed person besides Tech but seeing him back down was a first for all of them.

“I think he’s embarrassed,” Wrecker jested.

“Oh shut up Wrecker,” he said taking another bite of his bar.

“Crosshair, it’s an order. Go take care of it with literally anyone,” you walking towards the table, your heart hurting but it had to be done, you watched as he lowered the bar from his darkening face.

“Is that an order from our General.”

He realized he said our, realizing their was nothing he could do to push you away because Sith’s knew he tried but you still chose to stay no matter how moody he got. His jaw tighten, it normally it wouldn’t bother him to go find a beautiful girl but this time it was different it made him feel physically sick. Even thinking about it made his stomach turn. His eyes trailed to you trying to gage the depths of reaction, the pain you were obviously trying to hide. It made him feel worse. He quickly walked over to the table, pinning you with one arm and blocking you in.

Crosshair grabbed you by throat and starred at you, "Don’t you dare ever tell me to go after someone else. I'm going to take show you what screaming in bed is like.”

"That was perhaps something all of us didn't need to hear,” Tech said messing with his spanner.

"Then you might want to leave now," he hands ripped the front of your shirt in two, pressing his mouth into you and his finger nail digging into your breast, “kair’ta,” he groaned against your lips, he quickly ripped down your pants picking you up and setting you on the table with one hand unlatching his codpiece letting it fall to the ground.

He pulled both of your arms around his neck grabbing you by the underside of your thighs standing up and slammed himself into you without a single care that the other were barely out of the room. He was panting, not because he was tired but he felt the animal in him stirring and you were going to be his prey. Crosshair grabbed the side of your throat with his teeth, sucking hard on it leaving the mark under your ears.

“No more Regs, your ours and that’s it… That’s all the sharing I think I can do,” he said slowly his pace letting his voice trail off.

“Ours,” the words left your lips in a moan.

“Ours,” he growled burying his cock inside you, “I hope you’re ready to be busy for the next couple hours.”

“Hours?”

“Or all night I haven’t decided.”

Still pumping into you he took you over to his bunk, removing his wet for a moment so he could set you down on the mattress before climbing back on top of you. You let your heel trail down his long slender yet muscular legs. Crosshair wasn’t gentle in any of his touches especially when he put your arms above your head pinned them in place with one hand definitely bruising your wrist bringing the other hand to your mouth brushing your lips with his fingers. Each stroke deliberately following his thumb across your lips.

He could feel you pulsing and he stopped with a grin, “You don’t get to cum yet, not with out jealous you made me. Fucking Tech after I left, I was ready to kill him” he started slowly sheathing himself again.

“Why didn’t you come back?” You asked softly.

“Because I decided that you didn’t need me.”

“I thought you hated me,” sadness creeping in.

“Kair’ta,” he pleaded looking down, “we can talk about this later, for now just enjoy this,” he leading down with some gentle kissing before pulling back with a devilish grin.

He bit his own lip looking down at you taking in every perfect imperfection, before slamming his cock into you threatening to split you in two. His thick cock was heaven, he smiled at your blissful face taking it like a good girl. He was having fun edging you, a little to much to make fun, he let your wrist go to see what you would do with them. His cock pulsated inside of you as he watched your panted breathing quickened as you played with your played with your nipples.

“Crosshair, please,”

“I thought your moans were the most beautiful thing, it’s how you say my name,” he said with quick deliberate thrust, going harder with every moan, “I know you want too,” he cooed.

That was enough to make you come undone for him, loud and your insides clapped down on him making it harder for him to thrust but he didn’t stop. One hand clawing your breast and another on his armor, he was so hot in it. The death grip on him loosened and he was growling in your ear that he wasn’t going anywhere. He was so beautiful, deep brown eyes, smokey white hair, slender confidant figure he was yours, just yours, while you had to be shared he didn’t want anyone else; which was enough to make you cum again his dick.

“What was that for?” He smiled.

“We can talk about that later,” you said once your core untightened itself, “Are you ever going to cum?” You asked shyly.

“Do you want me too?” He smiled.

“Yes..”

“Then hold on,” he said pulling you partially off the bunk to where he could stand over you and watch every squirm you made under him, he grabbed your knees and shoved them wider apart tightening your entry.

He smiled when he came, pulling out letting his semen shot all over your chest. He knew where you wanted it but wanted to mark you with his scent. You let out a whiney moan as each hot drop touches your skin.

“You look beautiful as my Canvas, but I think you would look more beautiful with more and dripping out of you,” he said pushing his trying to soften cock back in.

After 2 more loads on you, he finally started filling you up. You were sore, bruised and half conscious. Every inch of you tingled.

“I think that the personal matter is almost satisfied for now,” he smiled at down at you, trying to get get one more out.

“Crosshair-“ you hiccuped.

“Yes?” He moaned, nearing the end.

“You’re really pretty,” you let out as a small hum.

When he pulled out of you he cock was still twitching but he had fun looking down at the mess of you, satisfied with his work. He looked down to see the mess of his armor, for a millisecond thought about leaving it there as a reminder but decided against it. He returned his back at you with his hands on his hips realizing there was no way he was getting you into the shower. He sighed finding a canteen with water and an old towel to wipe himself off and to at least try to scrub off most of you, even trying to scooping himself out of you so you were such a mess when you came off the pleasure wave you were on. He noticed the clock and saw it was early in the next rotation days and was smug about it. Although that meant every reg who passed by this morning heard it. He chuckled, at least no one interrupted.

He wrapped you in a blanket and let you sleep while he quickly headed to the shower and then to the mess. He found his brothers at the tables chatting away, everyone back to their regular selves. Crosshair sat down with a smug expression.

“By the look on your face you had a good night,”

Hunter said eyeing him.

“The mess needs stronger Caf,” he said sipping the drink.

“By the looks of it he didn’t sleep,” Tech interjected looking at the small eye bags forming, “it’s obvious.”

A smile tugged on his lips, “No sir, I did not.”

“Speaking of which, where is she?” Echo asked.

“Deliriously laying down, hopefully sleeping by now.”

“Delirious? What does that mean?” Wrecker asked.

“A disturbance in the mind usually due to intoxication causing incoherence of thought and speech, she more then like currently half conscious feeling an endorphin rush or asleep.”

“How are you doing doing Crosshair?” Hunter asked.

“Better.”

“Good- because everyone is talking about it,” he said tilting his head to side listening in.

“They’re just jealous,” Wrecker patted his arm.

“I’m going to go check on her, in case she needs to go to med bay,” Tech glared at Crosshair.

“He’s definitely jealous,” Crosshair chuckled.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Identity: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

Will and his officers head over to the rose bushes with shovels and dig them up, finding four more victims. Each of them is in different decomposition stages much like the flowers. The body that decomposed the most has the flowers that developed the longest. Francis or his partner would plant roses when he'd bury the bodies. You look up and see the other three women mist away as well, finding peace like the women before them.

Will's team leaves the house, announcing it's safe to go in, and they head over to the rose bushes to examine each body. Will's team has this to do, so your team heads inside the house. You're the last one inside, and a tear slips out at all the trauma associated with this house.

"They didn't find any explosives and nothing is rigged, but be careful," Will warns as he leaves.

"Hotch? These tapes have the names of the missing women," Rossi says, holding up a box of tapes. "They've all been unspooled."

"We need to get these to Garcia immediately."

You head into the kitchen where Spencer and Emily are, and when Spencer sees you in distress, he drops whatever he is holding and walks over to you.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you whisper.

Emily holds up a list she found on the refrigerator, reading it out loud.

"One, all actions must serve to please the master. Two, insubordination will result in punishment... This is his new manifesto."

"Notice the 'master' is singular and capitalized, emphasizing there's only one dominant partner."

"So, his partner is more of a servant or a serf, always watching the house and helping him abduct women."

"Okay, so if his partner is a serf, what are the female slaves for?" Emily asks, setting down the piece of paper.

"Oh, I think I can answer that," Rossi butts in, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

You walk into the back bedroom where the bed is flipped on its side so that you can see the underside of the mattress. On it are torture devices that Francis would use to hold the women so they couldn't fight back. It hurts to see this, so you have to turn away to protect your own heart.

"Now we know why the victims were taken so far apart. They tortured them. It took time for them to die."

A tear slips out of your eyes at Spencer's words.

"Homemade torture tools. They covered the floor in something. The bodies are probably wrapped in whatever it was. They must have kept these women for months. Judging by these tools, there will be a considerable amount of mutilation. We need to do what we can to help their families give a proper burial."

You know enough about Francis' partner to give a proper profile, so you opted to do that right away so you can get out of this hellhole. From what you found, you concluded that Goehring's partner is early to mid-twenties, 5'8", and has a slight build. He's shy and retiring, but groomed by a separatist armed with assault weaponry.

Like Goehring, he's unlikely to surrender if he's cornered. His obsession with cleanliness and order is deeply ingrained. This will be reflected in his home and his vehicle. You've located hair samples in the cabin you believe are his, which are medium-short length and blonde. He's the submissive partner, but having just lost Goehring, the man he was dedicated to and heavily dependent upon, he's in crisis.

Penelope didn't get anything off the videos either, and you could tell she was hurt by seeing them. You really wish things could be better for her. She hates seeing victims helpless as they are tortured, but she has to watch them in case something is embedded in the video or if she can spot something no one else would see.

You feel for her.

You've seen the videos yourself, and it breaks your heart to see these women in such pain.

"That is Jennifer Hillbridge, the second woman abducted," JJ says as she watches one of the videos.

"The cameraman frames Goehring but never her. Watch. He never stays on her that long." He's right. The camera focuses on Francis almost the entire time. It's like this partner doesn't care about the women, but about Francis. "He's more interested in Goehring than the torture. He's lingering on his biceps like he's caressing Goehring's body."

"Why the hell?" Will mutters.

"He's in love with Francis. He unspooled the tapes because he was jealous. It would be part of his servitude to clean his house, help abduct girls, bury the bodies, get supplies, and plant the roses." A realization came over you at that moment. "He had to buy roses, and a lot of them. There has to be a record of that."

"Let's get to the flower shops."

Half your team went out to different local flower shops giving out the description of what you think the partner may look like and his behavior. You thought nothing would come up until you found a clerk who knew what you were talking about. A guy named Henry Frost who works at one of the flower shops fits that exact description, and you finally have an address.

The first thing you notice when you get there is that he's the complete opposite of Francis. Francis was organized and neat, but Henry is a complete mess and doesn't care about being organized. His house proves that.

"He's destroyed everything he owns. He has no identity. He burned his face off his pictures. A submissive depends upon a dominant partner not only for instruction but for purpose and meaning."

"So, he's starting over and wiping the slate clean. Question is, as what?"

Right as you were done at his house, you got a call that a kidnapping took place at a local gas station. The woman tried to fight off her attacker, but wasn't able to get away. The attendant did get a good look at whoever did it. Someone matching Francis' picture kidnapped a woman as she was getting gas for her car. He had a huge bandage on the left side of his face, and you can only assume that he was trying to make himself look like his dominant partner.

The whole ruse that both men had to play is that Henry would drive Francis around until he saw a woman he liked. Francis would kidnap the woman and use her own car to drive while Henry would follow in the car he was driving around in. With Francis gone, Henry has to play both sides, and it's already not working out for him since he left his pickup car at the gas station.

Henry was a troubled gay man looking for Francis to dominate him. Francis gave Henry purpose and a reason to do what he did. When Francis killed himself, Henry lost sight of who he was because he was tied to Francis. Henry is a classic case of Depersonalization Disorder by losing a loved one. His mind is playing both cards, and all that's left is Henry's version of Francis.

If you're going to catch Henry and save that woman, you have to stop thinking like Henry and start thinking like Francis.

"Sheriff, he's taken on Goehring's persona. We have to assume he's going to behave the same way. He's heavily armed, and he's committed to his cause. If he's caught, he's not only willing to die but to take as many of us with him as possible. He's got a hostage, which means I'm going to need the best sharpshooter you've got," Hotch says to Will.

"That's fine, but we don't even know where this guy's headed."

"The team's been working the profile, and we think we've got something."

"In the tapes, Goehring makes several mentions of 'ideal land'. He also said that 'lords live on higher ground to better surveil the land and spot invaders'. He studied medieval defense strategies, so he'll probably go to a place where he can protect himself. High ground and easily defendable. This picture was on Goehring's fridge. Do you know where that is?"

Emily hands over a picture she found, and Will recognizes it immediately.

"That's Black Eagle Peak. Militia groups used to use it for training drills till the state stopped them."

"Hotch, I think it's best if I'm one of the sharpshooters. I can take the shot. Remember that case where the unsub robbed banks and made everyone strip and forced people to have sex with each other? I shot his backpack while he escaped on a BMX bike. I can get Henry."

"Good. Gear up."

You gear up with the rest of the SWAT team members who are assisting your team on the case. When you get there, you can already feel the dissociation coming from Henry and the panic coming from the woman. You check your gun for the fourth time now, making sure everything is where it's supposed to be.

"My guys also have eyes on him. He's on the very top of the peak on the far side of that ridge. He'll see us coming," Will says.

"He already knows if he's using that police scanner. We have to find a way to get up there," Derek says.

"We'll never be able to get close enough. How's it going with the other sharpshooter?"

Before anyone can answer him, a car pulls up to the group, and the man who Derek went to see at the bar steps out.

"Oh, you can't be serious," Derek sighs.

"You asked for the best. He's it. Ex-Special forces sniper."

"He's a civilian."

"He's militia. I deputized him. He knows the terrain like nobody else."

"The wind in this valley will change the trajectory of a shot by inches. If you can't read the wind, the wrong person might get shot. I guess I don't need to remind you gentleman of that," the man scoffs.

"It might not come down to it If we don't get moving. I'll go with him," Rossi offers.

"You want to flank around the west side of the mountain?" Will asks the man and he shakes his head.

"If he's on the north, I'll get a better view from the east ridge. It's steeper and is on higher ground. I'll get a clear shot from there."

"Y/N, go high and southwest. If you see the shot, call it. Channel 23. Keep it open. I'll go with the sheriff. We'll stay at the base and try to distract him. Morgan and Prentiss, go up to the northeast and through the middle. Keep your head down."

You check your rifle once more and look at Spencer in assurance. You nod, signaling that you can do this. You head up the southwest side of the mountain, finding a good spot to rest upon. The bar owner is right about the wind, but you have your abilities to help you much like last time. You aim your gun at Henry from the right side and line up your shot, but he has the woman in the way. His energy is all over the place and isn't stable, allowing you to see mere seconds into his future. You're able to see where he is going to be, and you're going to rely on this to help you take him down.

"Francis Goehring? Channel 2!" Hotch yells to him, allowing him to get on the channel so they don't have to yell. "All we want to do is talk to you. Let me know if you can hear me."

"Yeah, I can hear you. This is my land. Do you understand? Not yours and you will leave it or she dies."

"She's tucked in real tight. Too tight. I can't get the shot. You got to get him to move," the bar owner says into the radio.

"I can't get a shot either, Hotch," you say.

"How are we going to do that?" Will asks.

"He's not Goehring, Hotch, he can't do this. He may have shot Angela in the back, but he's spiraling fast."

"All I want to do is talk!" Hotch says into the radio.

"You want to talk? You go ahead and talk, but if you come any closer, she gets a bullet. Do you hear me? Huh? She's going to be the first to go. I swear!"

"We know a lot about you, Henry. We know your name is Henry Frost. We know you're twenty-five years old. We know that your dad kicked you out of the house when you were fifteen. He was a drunk and he abused and abandoned you. Ever since, your life has been a series of jails and institutions, and it's been hell."

"Shut up! No! Never let the bastards take you alive. Never be forgotten," Henry panics.

"If you have the shot, take it," Rossi orders. "Take the damn shot!"

"Henry, just let the girl go, and I'll clear everybody out. You and I can just talk. That's a promise. It doesn't have to end like this."

"Yes, it does! Yes, it does!"

Henry maneuvers the woman out of the way slightly, and you find your opening.

"Rossi, I can take the shot."

"Take it!"

You line up the shot where you know he will be a second from now. You pull the trigger, and the bullet goes between his eyes. The woman falls to the ground in a heap of sobs, and you lower the gun in relief. Henry is dead, and the woman is going to be okay.

To unwind from the case and bring yourself back to reality, the first thing you and Spencer do when you get home is to draw each other. You wouldn't say you're amazing, but you do alright, and Spencer has his own way of drawing that brings so much joy whenever you see them. They're conventionally ugly, but they're beautiful in your eyes.

You have your back on one end of the couch with your feet in the middle while Spencer has his back to the other end of the couch with his feet in the middle. Spencer's concentrated face is enough to make you giggle, and he looks up at you with a lopsided grin.

"Are you done?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Almost." He puts the finishing touches on his drawing before setting down his colored pencil. "Okay, done."

"On three. One... Two... Three!"

You and Spencer both flip your drawings around at the same time. You bust out in giggles when you see his unsteady lines and small eyes. Spencer doesn't care if you're laughing at his drawing because at least you're laughing.

"I don't look like a wrinkly old grandma," you laugh.

"And I don't look like a pipe cleaner with eyes," he jokes, using the line of the manager from earlier.

"I love it," you grin, exchanging yours for his. He puts his off to the side and crawls on top of you, causing you to put yours on the coffee table. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

"Yes, possible," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you.

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[wiypt-writes]

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

A Frank Adler One Shot.

Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…

Pairings:  Frank Adler x Reader

A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!

Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist

❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔

I'm gonna make you bend and break,

Say a prayer, but let the good times roll

In case God doesn't show…

Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.

But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.

With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.

How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?

And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.

"Who does he think he is?"

If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys

He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.

He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.

Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.

You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.

“This shouldn’t-“

“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”

He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.

You knew he was a goner.

"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.

You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.

And everything would change.

Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.

“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”

The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.

It was so wrong.

Yet you happily obliged.

It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.

With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.

You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.

“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.

But it had to. There was no way around it.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

"He tastes like you only sweeter"

"Just...let...go," you purred against him.

"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.

"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.

The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.

And you blinked back a solitary tear.

*****

I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.

And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past

One night stand

Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”

He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.

Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.

He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.

It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.

He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.

A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.

And all he could taste was you.

Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.

“You happy?”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”

Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”

“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.

Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”

“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories

[princessmisery666]

Quite Miss Home

Summary: The Bunker offers many comforts of a home, but Y/N’s home lies in the arms of the man that soothes her tattered soul.

Warnings: feelings/thoughts of depression, comfort fic, fluff-ish.

W/C: 1.1k

Rating: M (mature 16+)

Song & Artist: Quite Miss Home - James Arthur

Characters: Sam Winchester, fem!reader (she/her - no descriptions of ethnicity or body type.)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch - thanks for the summary too 🥰

Shout out: I think @slytherkins and @firefly-in-darkness have taken a look at some point.

Graphics: pictures found on Home Of Nutty - screen grabs from season 13, episode 4. Dividers: @firefly-graphics

A/N: I was looking through my google docs and found this completed fic that I started in December 2019. Not sure why I never posted before, probably a casualty of my overthinking. So here it is.

Master Lists: Main // Sam Winchester //

Quite Miss Home

Y/N watched Sam from across the room. She missed him, though they hadn’t been apart. There hadn’t been a lot of time for intimacy. It seemed that by the time he and Y/N dragged themselves to bed, they only had enough energy for a simple kiss before they both passed out. No quality time, none whatsoever.

The last few weeks had been busy. Aside from hunting, they’d been assisting the people from the alternative universe. Helping set them up in the bunker or find places of their own -- for those who wanted to go it alone -- teaching them how this new world worked.

A rare moment of peace presented itself, the bunker’s quiet, so Sam took the opportunity to read a book he’d been meaning to get around to for months. Not for any other reason than the Greek Mythology interested him, it didn’t relate to any cases; he needed the downtime, purely leisure purposes.

Y/N had had one of those days. Maybe it was the slower pace that gave her mind more time to churn the gears. She had no reason to be sad. She had had worse days, definitely had better too. Yet, she still felt the chest-crushing grief for something she was never able to identify. Perhaps some time to herself would help her to understand her emotions better? Though she’d taken the day off to catch up on laundry and a few Netflix shows, the darkness had simmered all day.

Sam had decided to use the rare day off and teach himself something new rather than be the teacher. He’d been a lot of things lately; teacher, hunter, confidant, brother, judge, and jury when the situation called for it. It was nice, comforting even, to just be nerdy Sam for a while. He concentrated on the words but he knew she was there; he’d always be aware of her presence. Something in him, small and undetectable on the outside, changed every time she was around. It’s as if he locked in on her, traced her every breath even without meaning to.

Y/N knows the remedy to her unease lies in Sam; his arms, scent, voice, he’s the antidote to ease at least some of the sadness. He could mold her sadness to numbness, and on days like today, being numb was preferred.

Sam brought his hand to his mouth to stop himself from calling out to her. He knew she was having one of her ‘down days’, as she called them, that she needed him, her body language told him. Slightly hunched posture, her eyes that watched him but were downcast at the same time, her deeper breaths that seemed to help hold back the tide. But he understood she needed to go to him on her terms, and she would, in her own time, usually when she’d decided if she wanted to talk or to ignore what she felt.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t interrupt him, should leave him to his rare moment of peace, but she needed him. She was undecided, though, whether she needed him to help her understand why she so often felt the way she did or if she just wanted the comfort of familiarity. She never understood why she felt so lonely sometimes, even when she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was loved, needed, and wanted. Yet somehow, she still felt like she was see-through, made of skin and bones, but there was nothing else to her. Had the weird notion that if she were to cry, not that she felt able at the moment, her tears would run thick and black because she felt dark and empty.

He’s too focused on whatever he’s reading to notice her staring. Maybe if he were in a different environment, somewhere unfamiliar, he’d sense her. The hunter in him would feel her eyes on him, and he’d look up, but he didn’t until her movement caught his eye.

Y/N pushed off the wall and stalked toward him. He raised his head and dropped his hand from his mouth; seeing her prompted a warm smile to smooth his pensive features.

“Hey,” he whispered. As if he were afraid that if he spoke too loudly, he’d be heard by someone else, and their time alone would be interrupted by an unwanted guest.

“Hey, handsome,” she said just as quietly.

Sam happily obliged when she crawled into his lap, legs hanging off the side of his chair, and burrowed her face in the crook of his neck to place a gentle kiss against his skin. He sighed, and a contented hum rose from his chest. He closed the book and reached to set it aside to give her his undivided attention because he knew that’s what she required without asking.

She grabbed his arm to stop the discarding of his book. “No, no,” she insisted. “Read to me.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “it’s Greek mythology,” he warned. He knew the subject didn't interest her at all. She had strong opinions on ‘a bunch of bored gods looking for play toys’. So he wanted to give her options. “Sure you don’t want to talk about whatever’s on your mind instead?”

She hummed her response, already losing herself in the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. He began to read, but she barely heard the words. Instead, she focused on the vibrations his words produced and gently stroked the exposed skin of his forearm. Her stomach fluttered as she indulged in the tingle of his warm lips against her head. Kisses pressed to her hairline at the end of each sentence. The lull of his voice began to help stifle her dark, unyielding emotions, and she snuggled closer.

Sam noticed the natural smile that crept onto her lips as she nuzzled into his neck. He set the book aside and guided her head up with soft but demanding fingers under her chin. Her eyes dragged lazily open to land on his, accompanied by a sleepy smile. “I’ve missed you,” he reached down to kiss her firmly. “It’s been kinda busy lately, huh?”

“Grand Central station has nothing on us, babe.” She chuckled and reached up to kiss him again. She retreated enough to whisper, “I’ve missed home.”

“Doesn’t feel much like home here, lately,” Sam admitted, pushing stray strands of hair from her face. “It’s strange having so many people here.”

“I didn’t mean the bunker,” she confessed, using his shoulder as her pillow. “I meant right here.” she pulled his arms further around her waist and encouraged him to squeeze. “I’ve missed being home, in your arms.”

Master Lists: Main // Sam Winchester //

[jinx-jade]

Secret Dreams Chapter 2: Meeting the Wayne’s

Marinette woke from the dream zone, leaving her alone in the empty bed of her hotel room. While Aunt Penny, Uncle Jagged, and herself were staying at the same hotel, Marinette had a separate room from the couple.

When she went to open her eyes the sun was shining directly in them, temporarily blinding her, which was strange since she had closed the curtains last night. Squinting her eyes open slowly to let them adjust to the bright light. Marinette tensed when she could make out the shape of a person.

“Rise and Shine my little rockstar!”

Relaxing, Marinette groaned at her Uncle's childish antics.

“It’s too early for you to have this much energy!” Marinette whined, pulling her pillow over her face.

“Nah, no such thing as too much energy!” Jagged informs her. “Besides we're meeting up with Brucie and a couple of his kids at W.E. today.”

Marinette grinds at that piece of information before quickly replacing it with a scowl. She removed the pillow from her face and glared at Jagged.

“I’m not going anywhere without having some form of caffeine first.” Marinette bargains

“Well then isn’t it a good thing that I got us both coffee?” Penny suggests as she walks in to hand Marinette her cup. “After all, not all of us wake up as energetic as Jagged does.”

“Gasp, Betrayed by my wife!” Jagged cried, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Did? Did you just say Gasp?” Marinette questioned looking a lot less annoyed and more like she was about to explode from laughter.

“I know what I said, little rockstar!” Jagged exclaimed as if it would help his case. Instead of the desired effect, Penny and Marinette burst into laughter.

Penny wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, “Jagged is right though little star” causing Jagged to preen a bit at the praise. Penny just shook her head at his antics, "We're meeting up with a few of the Waynes to discuss any final details for the charity gala."

Marinette nodded her head before taking a sip of her coffee, letting out a pleased sigh.

"Let me shower and get ready, then we can head out?" Marinette suggested. Penny agreed and dragged Jagged out to let her get ready. 

Marinette grabbed an outfit out of her suitcase that she had forgotten to unpack the previous night. Entering the bathroom and locking the door, disappearing until she was ready for the day.

"Well, today seems like it'll be a fun day, huh Sugar cube?" Plagg asks rhetorically, grinning as he abandons his hiding spot.

"You think any kind of chaos is fun, stinky socks!" Tikki argues leaving her spot as well. 

Once the kwamis of creation and destruction came out of hiding, the rest followed suit. Most of the kwamis moved towards the mini-fridge to grab their breakfasts. Some of them settled on the counter while others moved to sit on the bed or couch.

The kwamis made idle chit-chat until Marinette left the bathroom. She was wearing a high collar ivory blouse with long frilly sleeves and lace details. The blouse was tucked into her black high waist sailor shorts, with gold buttons and trim. She spends only a few minutes debating whether to wear platform heels or her knee-high black combat boots before deciding to go with the boots. 

“Which of us would you prefer to join you today Mademoiselle Guardian?” Kaalki questions with her usual grace and elegance.

“Hmm, maybe you, Tikki, Plagg, and Trixx?” Marinette considers it before nodding to herself. “Yeah, let’s go with the four of you. Unless any of you wish to stay here?”

“And miss the chaos? Don’t be ridiculous, Sugar cookie!” Plagg answers with mock offense. Trixx nodded their head in agreement with Plagg’s statement.

Tikki let out a sigh, “Someone has to keep you from getting into trouble.” Shaking her head in amusement, “Might as well be my luck.”

“As you wish, Mademoiselle Guardian. I have no issues with your decision.” Kaalki informs her.

“All right then! Let’s get going before Uncle Jagged comes to get me.” Marinette makes a face at that, making the kwamis laugh. “Have a nice day everyone. Remember, don’t be seen, and don’t cause too much trouble.”

Each kwami gave their agreement to stay out of sight and not make trouble. Marinette nodded her head, grabbing her small black backpack for her sketchbook, pencils, and the kwamis. After checking that she had everything, Marinette made her way towards the lobby. Once there, she had no trouble spotting her Aunt and Uncle. Easily making her way towards them.

“Ready to go little star?” Penny questioned

“Yup! Plus I’m much more awake after finishing my coffee and taking a shower.” Marinette smiled as they started walking out of the hotel.

Jagged led them to a sleek black car with an older gentleman standing next to it.

“A pleasure to see you again Master Jared.” the man politely clams, only to have Jagged tackle him into a hug.

“Good to see ya, Alfie!” Jagged exclaimed as he pulled away.

“You must be Mrs. Rolling and Miss Dupain-Cheng?” the man, Alfie? Questioned. Receiving a nod from both Penny and Marinette.

“But feel free to call me Marinette. My last name is a bit of a mouth full.” 

“And Penny is fine for me, Monsieur.”

“Of course Mrs. Penny, Miss Marinette. Master Bruce sent me as your ride to W.E., and anywhere else you may go during your stay. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, but please call me Alfred.”

Once introductions were over and done with, the group moved into the car. Heading towards Wayne Enterprise.

Marinette looked out of the windows of the car, watching the gothic architecture pass by. Damian had been right about the city seeming dark and gloomy. He was also right about it being the perfect inspiration for her new clothing line, Shadows. Marinette took out her sketchbook and got to work, not even noticing the time passing by.

“We have arrived,” Alfred claimed as he turned off the car, stepping out and opening the car doors for them. “Simply head to the reception desk and introduce yourselves. They have already been made aware of your appointment.” and with that Alfred reentered the car, driving off, presumably, back to Wayne Manor.

They did as Alfred instructed and were taken up to Bruce Wayne’s office. Jagged knocked on the Office door. After a few moments, Mr. Wayne appeared in the doorway.

“Jared, I’m glad you could make it,” he said welcoming them into the office. “Am I right to assume that these lovely ladies are your wife and niece?”

“That’d be a right on assumption” Jagged agreed. “This is my wife Penny Rolling, she’s also my lovely assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet one of Jagged's childhood friends, feel free to call me Penny.”

Jagged continues with the introduction, “And this little rockstar is my niece and designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne. You can call me Marinette, my last name is a bit of a mouth full.” 

“Please call me Bruce, there’s no need to be so formal.” Once Marinette nodded her head, Bruce started to introduce his kids. “These are a few of my children. My second eldest son Jason Todd-Wayne, my second youngest son Timothy Drake-Wayne, and my daughter Cassandra Cain-Wayne.”

Marinette smiled at them before taking a seat on the office couch to sketch. She mostly stayed out of the business conversation, only really talking when the conversation had to do with herself. Marinette took time to observe the Waynes for herself because while she trusted Damian with her life, he was their younger sibling and therefore biased.

Marinette observed Jason first. He was sarcastic and would throw in snarky comments now and then. When Jason wasn’t talking, he would be reading his book which seemed to be a classic novel. Marinette let out an amused huff when she realized that Damian’s description was accurate. He’s a book nerd wrapped in spikes and leather.

She noticed that the attention had turned to her, most likely because she had no reason to be amused. Marinette simply raised an eyebrow towards them until they went back to the previously abandoned conversation.

Her observation moved to Timothy, or Tim, who seemed to be exhausted but he easily kept up with the conversation. She noticed that he was holding a thermos for what seemed like dear life. Now the caffeine zombie made more sense. In all honesty, Marinette thought that the caffeine dependence was a “mood.”

The attention once again turned to herself. ‘Must have said that out loud’ Marinette assumed. She simply ignored the attention until the conversation started again. Once the conversation was flowing freely, she went back to her observations.

When Marinette looked in Cassandra’s, or Cass’s, direction, she found that Cass was already looking at her. Curiosity clear in her eyes. It would seem like Damian was right with all of his information on his siblings. Cass was trying to read her body language. Marinette quickly thought of an idea, tensing all the muscles in her body to slowly relax them as she quickly turned her attention to her sketchbook, pretending to be embarrassed.

When Marinette looked back up, Cass looked amused, causing Marinette to smirk. The smirk seemed to confuse Cass, who tilted her head to the side as if trying to look at her from a different angle to get a better read. Marinette simply copied Cass’s movement, making both girls seem confused. Cass continued to change her body language only to have Marinette copy it. A smile appeared on Cass’s face.

“Can we keep?” Cass asked gesturing to Marinette, which made Marinette burst into laughter.

The others in the room looked confused before realization appeared on the Waynes’ features.

“You can’t just ask to adopt people out of nowhere Cassandra,” Bruce said with a sigh.

“Keep?” Cass asked again with her best puppy dog eyes. Bruce simply shook his head, causing Cass to pout.

That seemed to be the last straw as everyone burst into laughter.

_____________________

Marinette collapsed onto her bed with a smile. Letting herself be consumed into the exhaustion from the day. She drifted off to the dream zone once again.

Tag list: @little-bluestar @redbullgivescaswings @stackofrandomstuff @meismu @maskedpainter @nyx-in-line @iamabrownfox @m0chik0furan @jjmjjktth

[beifongnation]

The Spirit of Change- Chapter 7: Made To Be Broken

Description: Lin and Kazuo find themselves back in one another's orbit following the events of Book One. This is the story of how their 'arrangement' evolved into a relationship. (In Progress)

Read it on AO3

Rating:  T

Story:

By now, Lin was accustomed to arriving at her office with nothing but an entire pot of black tea keeping her upright. It wasn’t anything new; the frequency with which Amon continued to terrorize her dreams was almost becoming so routine she didn’t think the word ‘nightmare’ any longer applied. However,  this particular sleepless night was not Amon’s doing. She laughed bitterly to herself thinking that perhaps she could thank Kazuo for this little reprieve, if she were feeling at all forgiving. She wasn’t, of course- which is why she let her telephone ring itself off the hook three separate times last night. If she were going to be stuck reimagining just what she should have said to him, then he ought to be doing the same.

A cursory glance around the room at shift change told her she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion, she counted at least six yawns and twice as many drooping heads that snapped back to attention at the last second. Her officers were feeling the pinch, she didn’t need a status report to see that, but Captain Hong hung back at the end of their hand-off to give her one anyway, “we need to talk.”

It was the last thing she wanted to hear at the moment and her expression told him exactly that, but her arm extended outward to indicate he should follow her into her office. As soon as Hong closed the door behind him he told her, “we need Saikhan back.”

Lin rounded her desk, falling back into her chair in the sort of unprofessional and familiar manner she would only allow herself in front of an old friend, “No.”

Hong moved forward, body language pleading, “Lin, come on! Look at you! You’re slouching for spirits sake, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you slouch,” he pulled the chair from in front of her desk and placed himself in it, leaning forward, “we’re exhausted. All of us- I got guys putting in eighty hours. Hell, I’m putting in eighty hours!”

Lin sighed, leaning forward to push her new copy of The Gold Murders off the stack of correspondence that awaited her. She bent the blade from the forearm of her uniform to slice the envelopes open, “Hong, I would not ask you to do anything I am not willing to do myself. I am well aware that we are all working far longer hours than we should be, but please keep in mind it is temporary. Bringing Saikhan back from leave is not the answer.”

“It’s not too late,” Hong reasoned, “you can reinstate him before his leave is up.”

“Or I could promote someone with better judgment,” Lin quipped, unfolding the schedule Tenzin had sent over. She scanned it as Hong continued to plead his case, deflating further at the list of required reports the Council had requested her to present at their upcoming meeting.

“You’re not going to find another metalbender with Saikhan’s skill, let’s face it. The guy is a master-”

“Yes, my mother would agree,” Lin interrupted, looking up from the sheet of paper in her hands, “but he’s also someone that rounded up and arrested innocent people for being non-benders. I don’t know about you, but given the current state of the Republic- I don’t think bringing him back onto the force would go over very well.”

“My guys don’t like it, Lin- the way they see it he was just following orders.”

“Well, as Chief of Police I’m ordering you to drop it, how’s that?”

Hong raised an eyebrow, frustrated.

“Listen, some of my guys lost their bending, Lin. Even though they’ve got it back- they’re not right, something’s off. They don’t like that it looks like the department is siding with Amon’s supporters.  I’m telling you this because it’s got legs, it could be something bigger- bringing Saikhan back in would send a good message to these guys.”

Suddenly, Lin felt very alert, as if all the black tea had hit her at once, “I understand-”

“I don’t think you do-”

“I understand,” Lin repeated, a little more forcefully, “he took my bending too.”

Hong’s eyes went wide and he brought one meaty hand up to rub his forehead, “Shit, Lin. I didn’t know.”

“Nobody does,” Lin confirmed, “and I would prefer it to stay that way. I’m only telling you this because I need you to hear me when I say that I do understand where they are coming from, but they’re going to have to find a way to deal with it. End of story.”

“Alright, yeah, I got it.”

“Good,” Lin concluded, turning her attention back to the schedule in her hand, “I need to shift the schedule for Monday by the way,” she passed the paper to Hong, “I’ll need an all-hands with the Captains before I make my presentation to the Council.”

Hong nodded absently, still clearly processing Lin’s confession, “Yeah, whatever you need…spirits. I need a drink.”

Lin opened her next piece of mail, remarking flippantly, “Good news: you’re off for the day.”

He chuckled, “Drinking at 8am. Haven’t done that since our Academy days.” Lin hummed in the affirmative, mostly focused on the letter in her hand. “That reminds me,” Hong continued as he stood to leave, “are we on for cards this Friday?”

Lin looked up, rolling her eyes, “Did you not just get through telling me that we are spread too thin?”

“Fair enough,” he admitted in a laugh, “feels like you’re just trying to weasel out of hosting though.”

Lin ticked her head, “Well this is the second month in a row I’ve postponed, perhaps you guys can pick up without me.”

“Nice try, Beifong. You won last time, you know the rules- it’s your turn to host.”

Lin grimaced, “Fine.” Just as he approached the door she stopped him, “Hong- send Khen in on your way out.”

“No problem,” Hong agreed, exiting finally. Khen appeared in her doorway in short order.

“You wanted to see me Chief?”

“Yes, I need to rearrange my schedule for Monday and I’ll need you to help me pull some reports.”

Khen nodded, coming further into her office, producing a pen and notepad from his utility belt. He began scribbling down her requests; contact the Captains, pull all arrest records for the past year and note the nation of origin for each perpetrator, summon Officer Song for a private meeting. The last item caught his attention and he looked up, smiling.

“I assume you’d like that meeting before meeting with the Captains?”

Lin nodded, “yes, but please keep that between us for now.” He had correctly deduced that Song was being tapped to backfill the Captain position Hong had vacated when he was promoted to headquarters.

“I’d say that’s well deserved,” Khen offered, “And I’ll get going on those reports.”

“Thank you,” Lin followed, catching Khen suppressing a yawn as he turned to leave. She frowned at the sight of it.“Khen?” His head snapped up and he readied his notepad again. “One last thing- when you’re done with those reports head home for the day and get some rest.”

“But-” he began to protest, but Lin cut him off.

“I appreciate how much time you’re putting in here, but like you told me- some mandatory time away from headquarters is probably a good thing.”

He tapped his pen to the notepad once, “Thanks, Chief.”

When she was alone again she went back to her stack of correspondence, but her eyes kept wandering to the book on her desk. The very sight of it was putting her in a bad mood so she pulled open her top desk drawer and threw it inside, shutting it away with finality. Just as she opened her next piece of mail there was a knock at her door.

“Chief?” Khen poked his head in, “Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation is on the line for you.”

Lin sighed audibly- it was almost as if Ursa had a sixth sense for these things, “I’ll take it, thank you.”

Once Khen ducked back out the door Lin lifted the earpiece from its pedestal with a disapproving shake of her head, “You’re up early.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” came Ursa’s regal voice on the other end of the line, “Izumi is hosting an end-of-session luncheon for Parliament today and I’m exceptionally peeved at you for stealing away the only guest I care to engage with at these things.”

“Well, you can have him back anytime,” Lin assured her, tearing open another piece of mail.

“Playing coy again as always, I see,” Ursa quipped, taking on a sign-song tone, “but I know what you did last night.”

Lin scoffed, “I highly doubt that.”

“I called your house and got no answer so try again,” Ursa returned.

Lin’s stomach sank, if she thought she couldn’t possibly feel worse about what had transpired between them she was sorely mistaken. Realizing that the phone calls she had ignored had just been Ursa nosing around stung; it was like getting disappointed all over again. She must have been quietly considering this a little too long because Ursa followed up with, “Hello?”

“I was home,” Lin said finally, “I just didn’t answer.”

“Lin, why do you bother with this little-miss-innocent act? We both know that I got Tenzin’s telegram to you at Representative Kazuo’s apartment with pinpoint accuracy. I think I deserve a little gossip in return. So tell me- how did he go about sweeping you off your feet this time?”

Lin scoffed, “Well, he started off by insulting me and I proceeded to tell him this whole arrangement was off and I left. I went home and ignored calls I thought were from him, but you’ve just cleared that up for me so thank you.”

“Wait. Back up. What do you mean?”

Lin could practically hear Ursa sitting forward in her chair, “I mean exactly what I said. It’s over and done with. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Are you sure what he said was insulting? Or were you just feeling sensitive?” she asked, tone skeptical.

Lin rolled her eyes, this was a typical reaction from everyone in her life whenever Lin asserted her feelings, “Yes, I’m quite certain it was insulting. He accused me of sleeping with Tenzin.” There was a brief pause on the end of the line and then, a sudden and gregarious cackle. “It’s not funny,” Lin insisted hotly.

“Why on earth would he say that?”

In her desk chair, Lin shrugged, “because he’s depraved.”

This assessment somehow made Ursa laugh even harder, “and here I thought that was part of his appeal,” her amusement abated a little then, “really though, why would he even think that?”

Lin pursed her lips, tongue clicking in condemnation, “He said Tenzin was ‘all over me’ at the welcome reception. Really, Tenzin thought he was being helpful by rescuing me from having to talk to Kazuo.”

“Rescue you?”

Lin nodded, “He thinks Kazuo is irritating-”

“He would,” Ursa commented dully.

“Well, I think he believed he was doing me a favor by getting between us all night.”

“What a hero,” Ursa added, “what did his wife think of that?”

“She wasn’t there,” Lin reported.

“Lin!” Ursa yelped, “So you’re telling me that every time Kazuo tried to talk to you Tenzin appeared and stood between you and that his wife wasn’t even there?”

“I see what you’re trying to imply, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing,” Ursa agreed, “but it sounds like he’s got a reason to suspect something might be going on.”

Now, Lin was sitting forward in her chair, “Again, that implies I am the type of person that would engage in something like that.”

“Oh Lin,” Ursa purred patronizingly, “he’s been cheated on before, remember? It was huge society news here at the time- personally I was relieved, I couldn’t stand that girl,” she made an audible gagging noise before continuing, “but he’s probably just feeling a little insecure. I figure you, of all people, can understand that.”

“Well,” Lin ventured, losing a bit of her zeal with that reminder, “it’s not as if we are an item or anything.”

“All the more reason for him to wonder then,” Ursa volleyed without missing a beat, “I don’t know, Lin. I don’t think it’s that crazy to ask given the circumstance.”

Lin let out a sigh. While Ursa may have made a few interesting points, she wasn’t quite ready to let go of her hurt feelings, not after having opened up to him the way she had back in the Fire Nation. Lin didn’t show her vulnerability to hardly anyone and to have it met with such an indignant questioning of her character in return was an affront she wasn’t sure she could overlook. Certainly not without an apology at the very least.

“Well, I do,” Lin said finally, “and I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Oh fine,” Ursa pouted, “but one last thing- I only called you once last night. So if you ignored any other calls then they weren’t from me.”

Lin hated to admit, even to herself, that this revelation stirred a little butterfly of excitement within her. “Alright.”

“Alright,” Ursa echoed, “I’ll talk to you later. Wish me luck today.”

“Good luck,” Lin returned with a roll of her eyes- she would kill to have a boring luncheon be the worst thing on her calendar, “and Goodbye.”

“Goodbye!”

Lin rested the earpiece back onto its prongs with a sigh, reminded that her own calendar did indeed require updating. She pulled open her top drawer to retrieve her datebook and was faced with Kazuo’s gift once again. She regarded the book for a moment, lifting it finally to gain access to her calendar just below- pulling both back out onto her desktop.

She flipped open her calendar first, feeling a little twinge of melancholy as she thumbed past the previous day in which she had double underlined the welcome reception. Lin never double underlined anything. After updating her schedule for Monday her eyes drifted back to the Gold Murders again and she lifted it, opening the cover to reveal Kazuo’s hotel key and something else she hadn’t noticed before; a hand written note.

Lin,

I apologize in advance for contributing to your insomnia.

xo, Kaz

His note coaxed a derisive chuckle from her; when he wrote this he could not have known just how applicable it would be, though the book had nothing to do with it. A second chuckle followed, this one a little more fulsome, when she realized that this note was likely meant as a double entendre as it technically accompanied both the book and the room key.

“Ridiculous,” she grumbled, lifting the key and rolling it between her fingers absently. She supposed she ought to return this to Hangshan Hotel’s front desk, now that she would surely not be needing it. The thought of returning the key to him directly gave her pause. Typically, Lin was expert in holding a grudge- few could outperform her in this- but she hated to admit when it came to Kazuo her resolve felt weakened. Even now as she daydreamed about it, she imagined using the key on his door instead of placing it in his palm.

This softening of her willpower was a direct result of talking to Ursa and she made a mental note to avoid her phone calls until the Council had been properly dissolved and Kazuo was on a ship headed back to the Fire Nation. Lin had plenty of work ahead to distract her in the meantime, surely. At least enough work today to keep her mind from thinking too much about what Ursa had said.

It would only be a further six months….

Lin closed the key inside the book once more, pushing it away in a huff. She plucked her datebook from the desk, gathering six months worth of pages between her fingers, observing how thin this representation appeared. Six months was not such a long time, she thought as she let the pages slip between her fingers until the week at hand presented itself again.

Her eyes fell on Tuesday and she pulled out an ink pen to scribble in the meeting Tenzin had requested at City Hall. A presentation to the Council and the Committee Heads. Lin sighed. It was only six months, but how many times would she have to see him in between?

The amount of reports requested by the Council would have been completely absurd under any other circumstance. In her entire career, Lin had never spent this much time poring over numbers and reports, diagraming charts only to rework them again after an errant paper was found to have drifted off the edge of her desk. It had been quite an undertaking, but she supposed that is exactly what reforming an entire government required. She had help, of course, and it was a good thing because the past two days had been filled end to end with preparation.

Now, the evidence of their hard work burdened Khen in the form of files that threatened to block his line of sight as he followed her up the front steps to City Hall, accompanied by Hong. The three of them entered the large doors and were promptly greeted by the Council Page, who checked his pocket watch with a chirp of pleasure, “Ah! Right on time.”

He led the three of them to the main chamber room, pushing open the doors and announcing their presence. Lin gave him a quick nod and a thank you as she entered, marching up the center aisle to greet the Council, who all sat in their regular spots, but now with the heads of their nation’s transition committees at their side. Lin didn’t miss Kazuo attempting to smile at her from beside Councilwoman Qian, but she pretended to, playing it cool though her heart sped up at the sight of him.

Undaunted, Lin bowed, regarding them all with an even expression she had perfected in this very room- if she could manage to look impassive at her weekly meetings with Tenzin just after he had effectively ripped her beating heart out of her chest and gotten married on top of it, ignoring Kazuo’s presence would be a walk in the park.

As the Page assisted Khen in passing around the files, Lin launched into her presentation with nothing but the stenographer’s clicking keys to accompany her. As she spoke, the Council and Committee Heads followed along, flipping the pages of her presentation and scribbling notations in the margins. She passed the baton to Hong for a few sections, specifically those outlining their budgetary needs for the coming year, which they were keen to lock in before the installment of a President.

Lin kept her eyes trained on Hong throughout his presentation, standing rigid and focused with her hands clasped behind her back. The temptation to look Kazuo’s way was strong, particularly because she could feel his eyes on her, but she managed to resist the urge until Hong passed the presentation back  at which point her traitorous eyes flit in Kazuo’s direction for only an instant, but it was long enough to catch him raising his own eyebrows in recognition. This infinitesimal exchange may have escaped everyone else in the room, but Lin understood the look that passed between them conveyed that Lin wasn’t as disengaged as she had previously claimed.

Mercifully, there were very few questions for her to answer at the end and Lin was surprised that none of them came from Kazuo. When the Council seemed satisfied, Tenzin cleared his throat, “I think that will be all,” he looked at Lin and smiled, “thank you, Chief Beifong. And thank you, Captain Hong.”

Both Lin and Hong bowed in acknowledgement, turning to make their exit as Tenzin informed the rest of his group that there would be a fifteen minute recess before their next meeting with the City Attorney. The sound of their chairs scraping against the marble flooring gave Lin reason to pick up her pace- nearly causing her to run directly into the City Attorney, who was waiting just outside the Council Chambers for his meeting.

“Excuse me,” Lin apologized, side-stepping him quickly. He mimicked her move, blocking her progress.

“Chief Beifong,” he greeted, “no need to apologize. I’m actually glad we ran into one another.”

Lin sighed, shooting a sidelong glance at Hong; the feeling was not mutual- any meeting between the Chief of Police and City Attorney was almost certainly bad news for her. She addressed the attorney in her path with a curt nod, “Raiko.”

“My office has just received a formal complaint from former Chief Saikhan. He’s contesting his suspension,” Raiko informed, receiving an audible sigh in return, “I’m wondering if I can’t get on your calendar later today to go over his complaint? Perhaps two o’clock?”

Lin nodded, frustration evident, “Yes, of course.”

Behind her, Khen produced a datebook from his pocket and began scribbling in it, expression skeptical. Noting his anxiety, Raiko added, “unless you’d rather avoid a confutation and reinstate him instead.”

Hong gave her a significant look as Khen looked on, hopeful.

“Two o’clock is fine,” Lin assured.

Raiko nodded, demeanor suddenly shifting into that of a used satomobile salesman, “And as long as I’ve got you here, I should let you know I’ve decided to put my name in the running for President.”

“Oh yeah?” Hong smiled, “That’s great. Good luck to you!”

Lin stayed silent, but Raiko was unbothered, “Thank you. I hope I can count on your vote,” he looked around Lin at Khen, “and yours too!”

“Uh… sure,” Khen agreed with a shrug of his shoulders.

“We should be going,” Lin asserted finally, causing Hong and Khen to fall in line behind her like little ducklings. They moved forward with a nod of acknowledgement for Raiko, making it only a few steps before their caravan was halted again- this time by a voice from behind.

“Chief Beifong!”

A bolt of anxiety shot through her at the sound of Kazuo’s voice, stopping her in her tracks. Hong and Khen paused as well, turning to face him. Decades of friendship made Hong particularly fluent in Lin’s body language and he read her like a newspaper headline declaring war. He took a step forward to intercept Kazuo as he approached.

“Representative,” Hong greeted, “If you have any follow up questions I’m happy to answer them for you.”

Kazuo blinked, not missing a beat, “No, actually your presentation was very thorough, thank you though.”

Before Hong could clarify, Lin was at his side holding Kazuo’s gaze, “It’s alright Hong, I’ll meet you back at headquarters.”

“Lin-”

“Go,” Lin told him, more sternly this time, “I’ll meet you back at headquarters.”

Khen and Hong exchanged a look, finally taking their orders and continuing down the hallway without Lin, whispering amongst one another all the while.

As soon as they were out of earshot Lin whispered, “Do you really think this is an appropriate time?”

Kazuo looked a little incredulous, “you haven’t been answering your phone, should I have sent an apology by messenger hawk?”  

Lin clicked her tongue in disapproval, peeking around Kazuo to see Raiko pretending not to notice their interaction as he waited outside the chamber doors, “anything would be better than ambushing me in the middle of work, yes.”

Kazuo shrugged, “Well, then I apologize for that too.” Lin rolled her eyes, but he continued, “We can take this conversation somewhere else if you prefer. We can talk about it over dinner? I can pick you up around seven?”

Lin gaped at him, stunned by his nerve. Clearly, he assumed he could charm his way back into her good graces, which would have made her laugh, except that is exactly what was happening. It was much easier to remain angry at him when he was out of sight. Now that he was standing just inches away her resolve was diminishing. Her inability to stay angry with him was a phenomenon she couldn’t even explain to herself- she supposed this was what people meant when they talked about having chemistry- his mere proximity sparked an unusual reaction within her. Of course, having chemistry with someone like Kazuo was terribly inconvenient, but she couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept darting to her mouth as he awaited her reply. She’d read once upon a time, in one of those ridiculous magazines Suyin used to subscribe to that this was a sure sign of attraction. While she had rolled her eyes at the statement when she read it years ago, she understood it now as her eyes darted in the same way. Everything about this should infuriate her and yet the only thing frustrating at this very moment was how inappropriate it would be to step forward and put her lips on his.

The very thought of doing so shook her out of her thoughts and she crossed her arms, glancing over his shoulder at Raiko again, “I don’t want to be seen in public with you.”

Kazuo’s eyebrows jumped, looking genuinely wounded, “Ouch.”

Lin cringed, scrambling to clarify herself, “No, I don’t mean it like that. It’s not you. I’m sorry, I just- I’d like to keep this private.”

He nodded slowly, ticking his head back slightly to indicate Raiko over his shoulder, “You know, I’m fairly certain Raiko over there has seen two people in conversation before,” he leaned in then, whispering scandalously, “he may have even seen two people eat dinner together.”

Lin gave him a withering look, “People talk.”

“Ah.”

It was clear he understood her hesitation then and she was grateful for it. Still, he was undeterred, following up with, “then we can have dinner in my room- no prying eyes there.”

Lin sighed, ironically feeling as if she were obligated to make amends to him after her rude comment. She glanced up at him, last bit of defiance crumbling under the weight of his hopeful gaze.

“Alright.”

She couldn’t decide if the grin he gave her in return was annoying or flattering.

“I’ll pick you up-”

“I’ll meet you there,” Lin corrected.

He nodded, “Seven o’clock?”

“Seven,” she agreed. They held each other’s eyes for a beat.

“You really did have a great presentation, by the way.”

Lin gave him a critical look, though the blush in her cheeks was likely evident, “I’m leaving now.”

He chuckled, “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

With a lift of her eyebrows and a turn of her heel she made her exit without another word.

The walk back to headquarters gave her some time to consider her approach- sure, her initial plan had been to avoid him for the next six months, but that was clearly out the window. Her attraction to him wouldn’t allow it and she grappled with the idea that she wasn’t as steadfast as intended when it came to resisting his charm. Still, she had no intention of allowing her emotions to get the better of her going forward- she had a lapse in judgment back in the Fire Nation, but she excused it as a transitory moment of weakness. From now on, Lin decided she would take care to keep their interactions strictly physical. There would be no more talking into the night, no more sleeping over; she was content to maintain an amiable friendship, but at the end of the day they were just two consenting adults engaging in a basic function of biology- nothing more. Dinner this evening would be a great time to clarify her terms and she was certain Kazuo would agree to them. In fact, she was reasonably sure he’d be relieved to find that they were both on the same page.

Lin entered Headquarters feeling far more awake than she had in days, passing Hong as he gathered his coat from the rack beside Khen’s desk. He chuckled at her attempt to pass him without comment.

“Welcome back!”

Lin gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement, continuing to her office. As soon as she closed the door he was knocking on it, “got time for a debrief?”

Lin sighed, pulling the door open and giving him a warning look.

Her look was received accordingly and he put his hands up innocently, coat slipping down his forearm, “I’m not saying anything.” Lin stepped back allowing him entry and he waltzed in, a look of amusement barely contained, “I just wanted to check in with you about Saikhan’s complaint.”

“What about it?”

His expression turned serious then, “Listen, I’m telling you this for your own good- let this one go unchallenged. Pay him out, put him on desk duty- whatever you have to do but don’t push back. We’re gonna lose officers over this.”

“If that’s what it takes…” Lin returned, “Anything else?”

Hong let out a long breath, dejected, “Guess not.”

“Thank you for your help today,” Lin told him with finality.

“Yep,” Hong returned, leaving her office with a shake of his head.

Lin closed the door behind him, feeling a little sting in her eyes- it was no secret the morale was low and the burden of turning that around was squarely on her shoulders. She understood countering Saikhan would damage her relationship with her metalbenders, but sometimes the popular thing to do and the right thing to do were not the same thing. She swiped at her eyes quickly, sniffing once to clear her frustrated tears. She just had to hope that over time they would come to understand her decision or at the very least- respect it.

The rest of the day felt like it was dragging on and Lin couldn’t be sure if it was dread or anticipation that made it feel that way- the only thing she was sure of is that by the time seven o’clock rolled around there was a pit in her stomach.

Lin stood before the door of Kazuo’s suite, fist curled to knock while the room key lay in her pocket. She brought her fist down finally, holding her breath. There was no answer and she deliberated for a moment, deciding he must have not heard her. So, she knocked again, a little louder this time.

And again there was no answer.

She felt the heat of anger rising in her cheeks- there was no way he didn’t hear it that time- and suddenly her anger was overshadowed by embarrassment for bothering to come here in the first place. She was just about to leave when she heard the elevator doors ding just down the hall.

Kazuo stepped out, arms full of what appeared to be groceries.

“Lin! Sorry I’m late- have you ever tried to find a purple scorpion pepper in this town? I thought Republic City was supposed to be a cosmopolitan melting pot but I went to two- two- different markets and nobody had even heard of them!” By now he was standing expectantly beside her in front of the door, “No wonder you said you can’t get good Fire Nation food here!” She blinked up at him, quietly aware he had no idea of the spiral she’d just been about to devolve into. Hands full, he motioned at the door with his elbow, “you have the key I gave you?”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Lin replied, collecting herself quickly and unlocking the door for him with the key from her pocket.

“Thanks.” He passed her, depositing the groceries on the kitchen counter just inside the suite, “I was planning to have this ready by the time you arrived but- big surprise- Tenzin had a speech ready for the close of proceedings- I was expecting him to talk for five minutes, maybe, but he went on for forty-five minutes!” He looked at Lin, flabbergasted, “Forty-five!”

“Is that unusually long?”

“When you don’t say anything, yes,” Kazuo replied, “especially at the end of the day. Anyway- sorry- did you want a drink? It’s going to be a while before this is ready.”

Lin glanced at the groceries, “You’re cooking?”

He smiled, looking rather pleased with himself, “I was planning to, if you don’t mind waiting. Remember when you were staying at my place you said you never found good laksa in Republic City? I thought it might help me get back on your good side to make my mother’s recipe for you. Of course, it won’t be quite right because of the purple scorp-”

“I’ll take a drink,” Lin interjected, smile spreading. He returned it devilishly, making his way over to the drink cart to mix up a concoction. She watched him work, feeling all the anxieties from earlier slipping away. While she had her doubts about his culinary prowess, the mere fact that he went out of his way to attempt making laksa of all things endeared her to him. She did recall mentioning that she had never found laksa as good as the kind sold out of a food stall on his block in the caldera, but she hadn’t expected him to remember that.

He returned, passing her a glass that he clinked with his own, taking a sip. He walked back to the kitchen and began unpacking the vegetables.

“Do you need any help?” Lin wondered, sipping her own drink as she watched Kazuo rinsing the lemongrass.

“You want to be my sous chef?”

Wordlessly, Lin came to stand beside him at the counter, flicking her wrist and bending a knife from the butcher block so that it sailed past him by an inch and snapped straight into her waiting hand.

Kazuo flinched, surprised by the suddenness of it.

“Well,” he said, eyes wide, “I suppose now would be a good time to formally apologize.”

Lin laughed, realizing just how aggressive her action seemed and she made a show of placing the knife carefully down onto the counter with two hands, “Sorry about that.”

“I forgot you could do that,” he chuckled, setting the lemongrass down beside the knife. He  turned to her then, taking on a more genuine tone, “I really do want to apologize about what I said. I wasn’t intending to make a statement about you. I think the world of politics has made me a little cynical and I thought maybe I had read you wrong.”

Lin studied his face, reading nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I have to say, though, I wasn’t wrong about how he was acting,” Kazuo qualified as Lin began to shake her head in disagreement, “It was…excessive.”

Lin laughed a little at that, not quite sure how to explain that Tenzin just came off that way because he disliked Kazuo so much, “It’s not what you think. Tenzin and I have just recently gotten back to a place where-”

Kazuo waved his hand dismissively, “You don’t have to explain. I’m not trying to police your relationships.”

“Good.”

“I’m just saying…” he leaned in conspiratorially, “my condolences to his wife.”

There was a time in Lin’s life in which a comment of this nature would have occupied her grieving brain for weeks, analyzing and turning over every word, looking for some hope that she had mattered to Tenzin, that someone else could confirm as much. But now she wanted nothing more than to forget he existed. “I don’t want to talk about Tenzin.”

“That’s a relief.”

Seeing her opening she straightened her back, “But maybe this is a good time to clarify things. Set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?”

Lin nodded, indicating the two of them, “For this, I mean.” He didn’t even bother to disguise his amusement and Lin scowled, “what?”

“You seem like someone that would have rules for this sort of thing. So, go ahead. Let’s hear them.”

Lin fixed him with a stern look, “We’ve never explicitly discussed this, but if you’re going to be here for six months I think now is a good time.”

“I don’t disagree,” Kazuo returned, gesturing for her to continue.

“Alright- first rule is: don’t follow me out of the council chambers like that again. I don’t want people discussing me or my personal life. Especially since we aren’t- since we’re not-”

Kazuo leaned in, clearly entertained by her attempt to categorize their relationship, “Aren’t what?”

“A couple,” Lin supplied finally, surprised to find that saying so out loud felt mildly disappointing. For his part, Kazuo continued to watch her in a most beguiling way, spurring her on in setting some boundaries. Regrettably, she needed them for her own sake, particularly now as they held one another’s gaze. Lin broke it first, eyes darting to his mouth in that familiar way. When the door had closed behind them only ten minutes before, Lin was confident winning her over would be a nearly impossible endeavor. She imagined it would take more than one evening to thaw the ice in her veins, but standing here alone with him- she felt heat instead. It was moving slowly into her cheeks and building between her legs.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, “And what else?” Lin gave him a quizzical look, having gotten carried away with her own thoughts. “I assume you have more than one rule?”

“Oh,” Lin remembered, “right, well, this is a nice gesture,” she began, pointing at the lemongrass on the countertop, “but going out to dinner? It’s too close to a date and I think we should avoid those situations.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she asserted, hitting her stride, “and in the spirit of keeping things casual- no more sleeping over.”

It was Kazuo’s turn to look skeptical, “what if you’re tired?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she rolled her eyes in response.

“I’ll manage.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “one question, though.”

“Yes?”

“Is kissing allowed?”

Lin smirked, “I suppose so.”

“Even now? Or should I wait until after dinner?”

Lin bit her lip to keep her smile from spreading, “I’m not that hungry.”

“Oh, good.”

He leaned in, catching her mouth with his own and Lin returned his kiss enthusiastically, losing herself in the sensation. It was almost as if his touch softened her in every respect, suddenly her hard edges were docile and yielding- relaxed and electrified all at once- readily assisting him with the buttons of her blouse which slipped off her shoulders along with the burdens she carried. This was just what she needed at the end of a long week, made even longer by denying herself moments like this. They were falling back onto the sofa in the sitting room in no time, agreeing the bedroom felt much too far away. It was a relief to finally be here, doing what they did best when they were together.

Lin rested her head on Kazuo’s chest with a satisfied hum, smiling lightly at the sound of his heart thumping rapidly just under her ear. “Okay, now I’m hungry.”

Kazuo let out a laugh from beneath her that shook her whole body, sweeping her up in his mirth, “Wait, wait, wait- wasn’t there a rule about dinner?”

Lin shifted, sliding her arm across his chest and resting her chin upon it in order to look him in the eye, “going out to dinner.”

He chuckled, pushing a strand of hair back from her face, “got me on a technicality then?”

“You offered!”

“That I did,” he agreed, running his hand along her hip before patting her backside once, “you’ve got to let me up in that case.”

Wordlessly she obliged, climbing off of him and gingerly collecting her discarded clothing to redress. He followed suit, dressing again and making his way back over to the small kitchen of his suite. She sidled up alongside, chopping the base of the lemongrass into a v-shape, peeling back the dry outer layer and sipping her drink.

As it turned out, Kazuo knew which ingredients went into laksa, but the order in which they should be put together appeared to be unknown to him, proving ripe ground for a little teasing from Lin who dutifully supervised his actions- interrupting more than once to correct his technique. He took all her instruction in good humor, writing off his culinary missteps as the pitfalls of working in an unfamiliar kitchen with improvised ingredients, much to Lin’s amusement.

The final result didn’t hold a candle to the laksa Lin had enjoyed at the Capital only weeks ago, but it wasn’t bad either- certainly on par with the Fire Nation fare available in Republic City.

“It’s the pepper- it’s not the same without the purple scorpion pepper,” Kazuo excused after sampling a little from the bowl in his hands.

“It’s not bad,” Lin insisted, twisting noodles around a pair of chopsticks.

In keeping with her theme of staying casual, they sat along the sofa, facing one another with legs crossed, bowls of laksa in their respective laps- foregoing the more formal setting of the dining table. It was a departure from Lin’s normal inclination for formality in all things, but there was something so cozy and comforting about sharing space in this way. The evening had not gone as planned- just this morning she was content to avoid him for months and now here she was in his suite enjoying a meal in their shared afterglow, talking to him about her day.

It was easy to talk to him, even in places where it ought to have been hard- their overlapping professional associations allowed her to bypass a lot of exposition and relay her thoughts and ideas without having to explain the background. There was only one topic she’d come to so far that required a little extra discretion and that was Saikhan’s suspension. She had mentioned her two o’clock meeting with the City Attorney as being “awful” and declined to elaborate when he asked what made it so bad.

“I can’t really get into it,” she told him vaguely.

“Because it’s an active investigation?”

“Yes,” Lin returned, stopping suddenly, “Wait. How do you know about that?”

She hadn’t told a soul about the investigation into Saikhan and what exactly had possessed him to do Tarrlok’s bidding, but the actions he took in her absence were not Council approved and certainly outside the guidelines of the Police Force Code of Conduct. Lin knew that better than anyone, having revised them herself upon taking office. It pained her to keep this information from her officers- almost as much as it pained her to entertain the idea that someone she trusted so deeply could be corrupted like this,  but she didn’t dare speak an accusation against him without solid evidence- and that is precisely what the City Attorney’s Office was working to find.

“We met with the City Attorney right after you left, remember?”

Lin was aghast, “Yes, but he’s not supposed to brief the Council with the Transitional Committees present! Investigating a former police chief for bribery is not something he should be shooting off at the mouth about- it’s a very delicate matter that requires discretion but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Raiko of all people would be blabbing about it to anyone who will listen! And to think, he wants to run for President. Ha.”

“And he’s going to win,” Kazuo added confidently before taking a sip of his drink.

Lin scowled, “What makes you think that?”

“The climate,” he shrugged, “it’s going to be a nonbender for sure- the national mood guarantees as much. The voters of Republic City are already familiar with him so he’s got visibility on his side, and now he has this bribery case to use as a talking point.”

“It’s not a case,” Lin corrected, “it’s an investigation that has not been completed. We don’t know for sure that Saikhan took a bribe or if it was simply incompetence.”

“It was definitely a bribe,” Kazuo assured her, setting his bowl on the small table at this side, “that’s Tarrlok’s style.”

“How would you know?”

“He tried to bribe Koji in the past,” Kazuo explained nonchalantly, “I guess he didn’t want to push his luck by approaching me directly- maybe he knew about us- who knows.”

Lin’s eyes practically bugged out of her skull and she set aside her bowl to emphasize her shock, “He tried to bribe a member of your staff and you didn’t report it?”

Kazuo chuckled, “Report it to who? Tarrlok? Come on, Lin. The whole Council is corrupted to some degree- except maybe Tenzin.  This whole reformation of government isn’t just because of the nonbending revolution. Besides, Tarrlok was smart about how he did it- with the right representation in court everything he said to Koji could have been written off as innocent conversation, but he was testing the waters, no doubt about it.”

Lin dropped her head into her hands, grumbling, “I hate politics.”

“Well, you’d better get used to them, because I promise you that Raiko is determined to find something he can use in this investigation- going hard on the Police Department for colluding with Tarrlok to oppress nonbenders will get him a lot of votes. He’ll be a nonbending hero for being tough on bender supremacy.”

“Not the police department,” Lin snipped, “Saikhan.”

“The people won’t make that distinction,” he replied apologetically.

Lin leaned back against the arm of the sofa with a disheartened sigh, realization dawning on her, “This morning Raiko suggested that I reinstate Saikhan and avoid this whole investigation.”

Kazuo sucked his teeth, “I hope you told him no.”

“Of course I did!”

“Good, then he can’t implicate you in the result. My guess is he was hoping you’d drop the investigation so he could call you complicit when they found evidence of corruption and then have an excuse to appoint a new Chief of Police.”

Lin shook her head, reaching for her drink and lifting it high, “well, here’s to hoping he loses,” she tilted it back, polishing it off in one rather long gulp.

“He won’t,” Kazuo insisted, “but you’ll be fine.”

Lin shot him a skeptical look. Perhaps the sudden infusion of alcohol was taking effect, but she challenged him, “No offense, but you’ve also thought you were going to win elections before…”

He put one hand on his chest, comically dipping his head as if he’d just been speared through the heart, “Wow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lin offered, sitting forward again with an impish grin, “I’m just saying you don’t know what the outcome will be.”

To her relief he was laughing, “You are exceptionally bad at flirting. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Actually, yes.”

He laughed harder in response. “Well for the record, I only thought I was going to win the first time I ran for the Council- after that I was just trying to make a point. And see you, of course.”

Lin’s eyes narrowed, shaking her head, “And see? You’re exceptionally good at flirting. Where do you come up with these lines?”

“It’s easy when they’re true,” he shrugged.

She scoffed, but couldn’t disguise the blush in her cheeks, “Anyway what point would you be trying to make by running every election cycle and losing?”

“It was a good way to challenge myself,” he returned plainly, “and besides it allowed me to make and maintain connections here that have really helped me in my work back home. I realized pretty quickly that my chances were slim as a nonbender, but if I hadn’t come here to campaign I never would have met Hiroshi Sato and convinced him to open his first international production plant in Fire Fountain City. After one good networking dinner here I brought 4,000 jobs back to the Fire Nation with me.”

He was a little more animated now- clearly energized by telling this story, and though Sato’s name gave her a slight recoil she couldn’t help but smile at Kazuo as she spoke- his enthusiasm was almost tangible.

“That makes sense,” she agreed, “but what do you mean your chances were slim as a nonbender?”

He looked at her blankly for a moment, “Really? Lin, when was the last time a nonbender served on the Council?”

She paused for a moment, tilting her head in thought, “I suppose it would have been one of the Air Acolytes…”

“You’re right, it was-”

“...Batsa!” They said in unison.

Kazuo nodded, “okay and he was succeeded by….”

“Tenzin.”

“Right. So, the only eligible air bender in the world replaced Batsa at the ripe old age of what? 20?”

“About twenty, yes.”

“Okay and there has been exactly one other nonbender to ever serve on the Council, can you guess who it is?”

Lin rolled her eyes, “Sokka. Obviously.”

“Yes, a founding member of the Council. So, in the history of this country there have been two nonbenders that held a position on the Council- one created the Council itself- so that’s a given. The other was essentially a placeholder until an actual bender could age into the position… I think you get where I’m going with this.”

“I do,” she admitted, “I guess that’s never occurred to me.”

He took a sip of his drink, shrugging, “Why would it?”

“It paints a rather stark picture.”

Suddenly this little bit of trivia, which had been available to her all this time, was reframing her view of the dissolution of the Council. In the past month she’d held nothing but resentment for the idea and for the equalists who had forced the issue, but she hadn’t considered how the Republic looked from their perspective. Her internal thoughts must have been externally expressed on her face because Kazuo gave her a smile and said, “Don’t feel bad, we’re used to it.”

“That makes me feel worse actually,” Lin returned, flatly.

“Then that calls for another drink,” Kazuo announced humorously, standing to make his way to the bar cart. Lin glanced at the clock, surprised to see how late it had gotten.

“Actually, I’d better get going,” she said, standing as well. She gathered their laksa bowls and made her way to the sink, “I have to be at work early- I don’t think my officers are feeling very forgiving as of late so I’d better not risk oversleeping.”

Kazuo approached her looking slightly disappointed, collecting the bowls from her hands and placing them in the sink himself, “I’ll take care of these.”  

Lin smiled up at him, suppressing the urge to kiss him again, “I’m glad we… talked.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

She rolled her eyes, “I would be the last person to know.”

“Fair point,” he laughed, “but I’m glad too. Would be a waste of six months in the same city otherwise.”

“Yes, it would be.”

It was hard to tear her eyes away from his now that the time had come, but she reminded herself to stay firm inside the boundaries she had set. The evening had been wonderful; full of great sex, good food, and stimulating conversation - it was a combination she didn’t experience for years at a time and it was enough to fill her head with all kinds of fanciful thoughts if she wasn’t careful. This was a temporary arrangement, they were friends, that was all.

He broke their gaze first, moving to fetch her coat off the back of one of the dining chairs. He held it open and she shrugged it on, “Thank you.”

They walked to the door together stopping just before it to exchange a kiss goodnight. It was a slow, sensual kind of kiss they lingered in, both reluctant for it to end. Kazuo deepened it a little by stepping in closer and sliding one hand along her jawline, giving Lin cause to stretch her arms up over his shoulders, linking her fingers behind his neck to pull him in further. Their simple goodnight kiss intensified then and he used his free hand to draw her hips in to meet his. Lin could feel his excitement plainly against her and she pushed her hips into him signaling that she had indeed changed her mind about leaving- at least for now. Together they crashed up against the door, undressing one another with urgency- this time, though, they made it back to the bedroom.

Sweaty and satisfied, they parted on a string of kisses, attempting to catch their breath in the moments between. Kazuo kissed her neck once more and slid off of her, taking up residence beside her in his bed.

“Whew,” Lin laughed, heart-pounding as she stared up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Kazuo agreed, “I think we have some work to do regarding the ‘goodbye kiss’ concept.”

Lin nodded, “I suppose we do.” She caught a light chill, shivering at the sudden loss of his warmth and Kazuo shifted the blankets over to cover her without missing a beat.

And just like that she felt warm again.

She turned to her side, coming nose to nose with him, “I should go.”

In truth, it was the last thing she wanted to do. She realized she could stay here for days just enjoying the sensation of his hand running softly up and down her arm.

He sighed, “You’re right. Get out. You know the rules.” Unamused, Lin glared at him and he laughed, “I’m kidding!” When her expression soured further he pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head, “Aww. I’m joking. Besides, haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘rules are made to be broken?’”

Against his chest, Lin grumbled, “You kidding? It’ll be inscribed on my mother’s tombstone.”

“She sounds like a wise woman.”

“She’s not,” Lin assured, pushing off him a little so that their eyes met again. She yawned, “but neither am I- you were right. I am tired.”

“Then go to sleep,” he told her with a shrug, “I’ll set the alarm early enough for both of us.”

He twisted at the waist, reaching over for the clock to wind the alarm. Lin watched him from where she lay, tucked in at his side, thinking of the million reasons she had to get up and go home to her own bed. He set the alarm on the nightstand, turning back to pull her in for another kiss- this one short and sweet- and she decided that maybe, just this once, it was okay to break her own rules.

[90s-belladonna]

Aznzbxbndndjnsbd m-maybe for the hawks thing, could you possibly do a hc for a mute s/o please?

Hawks With A Non-Verbal S/O - Headcanons

- he already knew a fair bit of sign language before meeting you, due to wanting to be better able to communicate with everyone in case of an emergency while he was patrolling

- ^ that being said he was by no means fluent, but that all changed when he met you

- he wanted to be able to understand everything you signed to him so he could converse with you more often

- he makes it a point to ask if you prefer that he signs to you or speaks to you while holding a conversation

- what’s most important to him is that you feel comfortable with him, because he cares about you so much and wants nothing more than to cater to your needs since he knows society tends to be rather noncomforming when it comes to making everyone feel equal and wants you to know that with him you’ll always be considered important

- if you’re not comfortable with sign language and prefer to write things down when speaking to him he’ll be extremely patient and will most likely make googly eyes as you write your messages to him

- he always makes sure people are respectful of you and your space and is quick to call out anyone who dares to even be rude or disrespectful towards you

- he’s a very cautious person with his s/o’s whenever he’s in a relationship and really values consent so he’ll often ask you things like “are you still comfortable” when trying different things

- he’s extremely observant of you as well and notices changes in your expressions and body language which often leads to him asking to know how you feel in those situations. “dove, i noticed your expression changed, is everything alright?”

- now, just because he’s caring doesn’t mean he’s pushy. he won’t pester you into telling him what caused you to become non verbal, nor will he push you into trying to speak, he’s not the type of guy to cross any of your boundaries

- he’ll often perform actions to try and demonstrate his love, he loves the connection you two share and wants you show you that he loves you in a way that goes beyond just telling you

- if you have a hard time expressing your emotions in writing or with sign language he’ll get you one of those reversible octopus plushies so he can get a feel for your mood in order to know what he needs to do to either comfort you or lift your spirits if you’re ever sad or angry

- also idk why but i feel like he’s dorky enough to say things like “don’t worry about trying to speak to me, your beautiful eyes say more than words ever could, after all they’re the windows to your soul.” he’s just... cheesy, but in a sweet way!

- i generally headcanon him as very gentle and supportive when in a relationship so i can totally see him giving you tons of forehead kisses and pecking your nose while telling you all about how amazing you are and how much respect he has for you

- over all he’d be the best and most supportive and sweet boyfriend ever! 138383830/10 would recommend 🖤

☆ Master List

☆ Headcanons

~ A/N: hope these were okay! i did as much research as i could but sadly there’s not a lot of easy to find information out there. also i didn’t want to use mute since i wasn’t completely sure if it was an offensive term or not? and i didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable by using it, if anyone could please let me know though that’d be really helpful! ~

🌸 please tune in for the rest of the event

[winterscaptain]

constellations.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: as usual, an ajf fic that requires very little context. i’m so sorry this took so long!! i was busy thinking about how to quit my job this week and then KIRA CAME TO VISIT ME (we’re being safe and covid-conscious!) so this took a couple of days longer than expected. also - i see your beautiful messages! i will keep chipping away at them :)

you can expect the route 66 fic on tuesday at 11pm pdt!

words: 4.4k warnings: canon-typical discussions of violence, some mention of canon-typical sexual assault, language

summary: as hotch recovers from the explosion in new york, you find yourself more concerned than you expected. (au!2008)

masterlist | a joyful future master list | requests closed!

“The Angel Maker. I remember the case.” 

It’s a fairly normal start to the week, with a case packed and ready for you at 10am. Aaron was out of the field for a week or so with his injuries, but his presence at the round table and the go bag you spotted beside his desk this morning warms you. 

He’s back. Not completely, but that’s better than not at all. 

“They caught that guy.” Reid’s flipping through the case file, but you know he’s got one ear open. 

Rossi’s on the same page, and finishes Reid’s thought. “And executed him.” 

“That’s right,” JJ says. “He was put to death by lethal injection a year ago yesterday.” 

You release a little breath you were holding. “Yesterday?”

That’s a clear enough trigger for a fanatic. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen something like this, either with your tenure at the BAU or in previous case studies at the academy. It was always a little shocking - the lengths people go to complete the work of the devil they romanticize...

Derek throws a finger at you as if to say Exactly. “So we’re looking for a copycat.” 

“Honoring the anniversary of his hero’s death.” Dave sits back in his chair, almost satisfied. You smile a little. 

The confidence of a seasoned profiler. 

Aaron catches your smile, and his lips pull just the barest amount. You shake your head, suppressing a wider grin. 

Funny, isn’t it?

His brows tug. What?

It’s so...normal. And so predictable. You sit back, peering at Aaron over your copy of the file. He huffs (you recognize it as a laugh, though the rest of his face remains exactly the same) and turns his attention toward Reid, who’s still flipping through the file. 

“It says here they found semen at the crime scene. Perhaps locals will get a DNA match through VICAP?” When you follow Aaron’s gaze to Spencer, you’re not surprised to see him already absorbed in the latter half of the report. 

“See, that’s where things get weird.” Her face screws up. “They already ran it, and got a match.” She throws the file toward you, and you open it. 

“If they already have a name, why’d they call us?” Emily’s confusion is swallowed up in your own. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You look over at Hotch, who takes the file from your hands. “The match they got back on the DNA is to Courtland Bryce Ryan -” 

Hotch lets out a sharp huff. “The Angel Maker.” You meet his gaze again. 

This is going to be a weird one. 

“Wheels up in thirty.” 

+++

You lean against the back of Hotch’s chair, peering over his shoulder as ideas bounce around the cabin. He’s focused on Reid along with the rest of you as the younger agent spins a theory. 

Derek’s the first one to question his particularly amusing line of thought. “Reid, you’re not seriously floating the idea of an evil twin, are you?”

“No. I’m floating the idea of an eviler twin.” Reid looks dead serious, and Hotch glances up at you. You shake your head a little, and he shrugs before restoring his attention. “Traditionally the concept is good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, eviler twin.” 

You swallow a laugh as both Derek and Emily look at him like he’s grown three extra heads all at once. 

Before any of you can say anything, Aaron’s hand rises to his forehead and his face scrunches up in pain. You place a hand on his shoulder from over the seat, patting him for his attention. “Hotch?” 

He hums something that sounds like, “Yeah?”

“Are you cleared to fly?”

He sucks in a breath to cover a wince, and you take that as a no. 

You sink your hands into his hair as he tips his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. The tips of your fingers find the little pressure points around his head, and you lean forward, keeping your voice soft. “Does that help?”

He nods, just a little, and you’re satisfied. You look at Derek over Hotch’s head, and he looks just as concerned as you feel. 

+++

“I give you a legacy. A breath of life from the Angel Maker himself. Those who prayed to forget me will one day see my face and shrink in fear.” Reid recites aloud from the letter, and you listen with your head propped on your hand. 

The sheriff sighs and crosses his arms. “That’s the last thing people need right now.” 

“Reid, how does that compare with the original correspondence?” Derek ignores the sheriff, redirecting his attention to the letter and the genius holding it. 

You jump on Derek’s line of thinking. “It can’t be authentic, can it?” You drop your hand from your chin and lean toward Spencer, feeling Aaron hover over your shoulder. 

“They share some compelling characteristics. I’d obviously like to look at it under a magnification under a better light…”

Obviously.

Hotch’s voice almost startles you, right by your ear. “Best guess, Reid?”

“I’d say it’s authentic.” Rather than looking at Hotch, he looks at you. Your furrowed brow speaks for everyone present. 

“How can it be authentic if the guy’s been dead for over a year?” Looking over at Hotch, you hope he has something better than paranormal speculation. 

He doesn’t disappoint. “It could be an elaborate forgery.” 

“Or,” Reid adds, “it could be a genuine article, just written before his death.” 

You hum. “That's my favorite of the theories so far.” 

The sheriff shakes his head, coming up on your other side. It’s almost comical the way you’re all crowded around the letter. “Mail here isn’t that slow.” 

Derek’s the only one who hasn’t joined you. He’s still happily posted up at the desk, leaning against it with his arms crossed. You glance at him before offering, “Could have been released through an intermediary.”

“You mean the copycat?” Reid asks. 

Nodding, you suggest, “He could be buried in those visitor logs - we’re checking them out now to see who visited Ryan and how often.” 

Derek finally joins you. “That’ll narrow the suspect pool.”

Hotch flinches again and his fingers press to his brow as the front door opens, allowing the rush of a truck to sound through the room. 

“Hotch?”

He waves you off. “I’m fine.” 

Liar. 

There’s nothing you can do. 

+++

You’re with Derek in one of the interrogation rooms, going through letter upon letter from Ryan’s time in prison. “What happens if Hotch actually loses his hearing?” You can’t help the overwhelming notes of concern coloring your voice. “I mean, what are we going to say to Strauss? ‘Excuse me ma’am, if our unit chief goes deaf because he won’t fucking slow down, can he still be our unit chief?’ I mean - “

You shut your mouth as Hotch walks into the room. Shame floods through you. It was more than unkind to talk about him behind his back as it was, and here you were - broadcasting your worst fears about his condition to one of your closest mutual friends. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -” 

Aaron once again waves you off. “It’s alright.” He comes to rest beside you, and you reach for his arm in apology. 

“How are you feeling?”

He shakes his head, and Derek leaves the two of you alone, closing the door behind him. Hotch looks over his shoulder, satisfied that you’re on your own. 

“Dizzy. Nauseated. Tired.” It’s like a checklist - matter-of-fact and without bias. 

You take stock of him. The cuts on his face are healing nicely, and the bruise on his cheek is fading. The bags under his eyes, though, betray the lack of sleep. “What can I do?”

He shakes his head with something that isn’t a smile if you don’t know him. “Nothing. Just keep doing good work.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive earlier.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m just worried, is all.” Your voice tapers off at the end of your thought, just a little embarrassed. 

A little breath leaves his nose, and you know it’s sort of a laugh. “I know.” He presses a hand to your shoulder for a moment before diving into one of the boxes himself.

+++

Hotch walks quickly, and you keep up as best you can as he informs the sheriff, “I have to advise against this.” 

“All due respect, this isn’t your town. I have to convince them that Courtland Ryan is dead and buried.” 

Hotch glances back at you, and you shrug. 

Small towns. Serial killers. What are you gonna do?

The cemetery is relatively quiet, the sleepy town waiting for something to happen with bated breath. It’s not like anyone would be taking late-night walks anytime soon. 

His head tips, and you know he agrees. Nevertheless, he turns back toward the sheriff. “You’re indulging the killer by perpetuating the ruse he’s created.” 

Nice. Five dollar words for the two-bit sheriff. 

“He’s right. It may embolden him. Prompt more murders.” Emily says, watching the proceedings with a discerning eye. You can only agree. 

The sheriff shakes his head. “Celia lost her only daughter to that murdering bastard. We met when I was working the case and had gotten close. I thought we were past all this, but...I guess I was kidding myself.” 

The crane starts up, and there’s a sinking feeling that you’ve forgotten about something as the chains tighten and begin to lift the coffin. All at once, you remember and turn as Hotch steps away, his hand over his ear and the other pressed against his brow again. 

You hover beside him, not sure what to do. Pressing your hands to his forearms, you do your best to shield him from some of the sound with your body. 

He makes a weak attempt to wave you off, but his voice startles you. It’s so small as he insists, “I’m alright. I’m fine. Just -”

“Hotch -”

“I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay. Yeah.” 

You don’t believe him for a second, but as the noise decreases, so does his agony. He removes his hands from his ears for a moment. He’s blinking rapidly, looking simultaneously dazed and far too aware. 

“Aaron…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m fine. I’m okay.” 

Your lips press into a thin line and you remove your hands from his arms. “Take it easy. I can’t make your life hell if you can’t hear me, alright?”

Your teasing has the intended effect, and he levels you with his signature glare that’s only halfway playful. 

+++

“The victim is Maxine Chandler. The neighbors say she’s lived here her whole life. All twenty-eight years of it.” 

The house is infused with the presence of children - play structures, toys, the whole nine. Aaron voices your thoughts. “How many kids does she have?” 

“None of her own. She runs a daycare. The guy who called 911 came here to drop off his toddler and found Maxine in her bedroom.”

That’s an eventful morning. 

“Well,” you note, “now that we have more than one victim, we can compare victimology.” 

Hotch nods, and you meet his eyes for a moment. “Different data points should help us significantly narrow the profile.” 

“I’ll get JJ to bring us the files on the first victim.” Morgan says, his phone already in his hand. 

“What did you find?” 

The coroner runs you through his findings, and they’re not much different from the first murder, but there is one notable difference. 

“Nine puncture wounds,” Emily notes, her dark eyes roaming over the body. 

You’re close to Hotch, watching them bounce off each other. It’s always inspiring to watch them. As close as you and Aaron are, you were deeply impressed but his professional relationship with Emily. There’s part of you that chalks it up to your age - they are only two years apart. They form their own little age bracket on the team while you, JJ, and Spencer make up the younger strata. 

More often than not, the three of you were able to keep up with each other just like Emily and Aaron. 

“Can I have your pen?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.” Hotch pulls the pen from his inside pocket, handing it over into her eager hands. “What is it?” 

You wait as she doodles something into her notepad before her head whips up. “She did this.” 

“What do you mean?” You’re not following, and you can tell Hotch isn’t either. 

“The unsub. She made this before she made the puncture wounds.” 

Hotch tips his chin, understanding. “That’s why the coroner found paper in the wounds.” 

“It was a template. The Angel Maker did it from memory, but she needed a guide to get it right.” 

You pull your phone out, already dialing Reid as Hotch says. “We need to go back and re-examine each of the patterns. Where’s Reid?” 

“Spence. Hey. We have something for you.” You pass the phone and a little smile to Hotch, who takes both with a grateful look. 

Emily watches the exchange, feeling suddenly like an outsider - almost an intruder. There’s something between you two, always has been, but this moment is such a clean-cut outline of it. You’re constantly anticipating the needs of the other, ready with a warmth and fondness at a moment’s notice. 

She sees it again when he presses your phone back into your waiting hand. You take it and brush past him as he turns over his shoulder to follow you out the door. It almost looks choreographed. In fairness, you’d both done it what feels like thousands of times before. 

When you pause in the living room, both turning at the same time when Derek calls for Hotch, a shadow of a thought crosses her mind. It’s gone before it’s truly there, and she lets it go. 

+++

Reid’s finally cracked it, and you’re all crowded around him again as he explains what he’s found. He profiled the author, figured out the cypher used by the Aryan Brotherhood, and generally made use of his insane brain. The patterns themselves are constellations, woven into every aspect of their relationship. 

You find a smile breaking out over your face as you listen to Spencer spin. Hotch leans over and whispers, “He hasn’t let loose in a while, has he?” You’re standing on his left, of course, just in case. 

Shaking your head, you laugh a little. Emily’s looking at Spencer like he’s from another planet. She pokes him and voices the thought you’ve all had at least once. “He’s so lifelike.”

Her comment gets a laugh out of you and a smile out of Aaron. You’re warmed by it. 

+++

You clear and search Chloe Kelcher’s house, staying firmly attached to Aaron’s seven o’clock position, right off his left shoulder. 

“Alright. We all know what the endgame is. She’s looking for her final victim. She may have already chosen one.” Hotch looks around, suggesting assignments with the flicker of his eyes around the house. “Let’s tear this place apart, look for anything that might tell us who she’s targeted.”

You follow Hotch and Derek into the nursery, noting the stars on the ceiling. The crib captures your attention - the carefully placed onesie indicating the pain of a woman in denial. Your brow crumples, and Aaron steps up beside you, nudging a couple of stuffed animals out of the way as a cursory search. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just...thinking.” The trigger is as clear as a neon sign, and you’re sure much saner people would break down like this at the loss of a child. There’s a silent prompting as he stands beside you, waiting for you to elaborate. “I dunno. I can just see how someone close to reasonable would be in bad enough shape after something like this, not to mention someone as unstable as our unsub.” 

He sighs. “It must have devastated her to think that she could hold on to Ryan by having his child and then lose the baby.” 

Derek hums from across the room, joining the conversation. “Completing his murders became the only way she could hold onto him.”

Something strikes Aaron then - something intangible. He turns and opens the trunk in the corner of the room. Its contents pull your upper lip up in disgust.

With a dubious pair of eyebrows, Aaron notes, “Not the only way.” 

“Guess that answers that.” 

+++

You reach the final victim’s house, and you can only hope you’ve made it in time. Hotch immediately assumes authority, leading collaboration between the BAU and local law enforcement. He assigns Derek to find an opening into the house, while he directs the sheriff to bring all the cars to the front, no lights. 

He finds a megaphone for Emily, and you take your place at his left side, crouched to take the low firing point through the car’s open window. 

“Hit the lights,” he directs, and they do. 

All at once, it’s bright - nearly daylight. Emily starts talking, and you’re singularly focused on the front of the house. The windows, the door, and the curtains are all within your purview. You glance up at Hotch, who glances down at you. He unholsters his weapon, and you bump his hip with your elbow and return your attention to the front of the house

“Go into the pouch next to my extra magazines.” 

You can sense rather than see his frown. 

“Just trust me. Open it.” 

His left hand finds your belt while he continues to scan the area, unclipping the pouch without looking. You hear a huff of laughter as he finds what you left for him. 

“Put one in your right ear and don’t argue with me.” Your voice is still low, but you dropped into the tone you learned from him, only half-joking. 

He rolls his eyes and stuffs the foam earplug in his bad ear before unholstering his weapon. 

“Door,” you warn as the front screen opens.  

“Chloe. Drop the gun.” Aaron’s voice is heavy with authority, and the sheriff backs him up. 

The world slows down when she raises the gun toward you all, and the sheriff fires. Despite the earplug, Aaron immediately collapses, dropping his service weapon at your feet and covering his ears with his hands. You holster your weapon and turn toward him on sheer instinct. 

You retrieve the gun, checking the safety and slipping it into your waistband. When you return your attention to him, he’s almost folded completely into himself, pained groans leaving him. Rossi beat you to him, half-holding him up, but he shifts Aaron to you when you reach them both. 

“Aaron.” You wrap him in your arms and he takes some of his weight as his feet get back under him. He leans into you, and you do your best to support him. “Hotch, are you okay?”

He reaches out, finding your arm and gripping tight. You stay steady, almost in tears. It’s agonizing to see him in pain. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Liar.

+++

The next day, it’s decided he’ll drive one of the cars home, instead of taking the plane. 

You laugh as Derek throws the keys at Spencer. Hotch steps up beside you, throwing his go bag in one of the cars. Going out on a bit of a limb, you ask, “Want any company?” You keep your voice low, just in case anyone’s listening. 

First of all, you don’t want to out yourself in front of your colleagues - they all know how much you care about him and you don’t want them getting any ideas. Second of all, you know how Hotch gets when he’s alone too long. 

He raises his eyebrows for a second, but Dave interrupts his thought before he can share it with you. “Why don’t you two drive together? It’ll be a better trip with some company and you can’t stand the rest of us for more than three hours at a time.” 

Hotch snorts. “Fine.” He looks over at you and you shrug and throw your go bag in the backseat with his. 

“I’m good with that. What are you thinkin’? Straight through, or are we taking a the scenic route?”

Dave pipes in again. “I think a couple of days could do you both some good. It’s been a long few weeks.” 

You and Hotch look at each other. You look back at Dave. “Good idea. See you Tuesday?”

He nods and joins the rest of the team in the other car, slipping into the passenger seat. 

+++

The car is quiet for the first half hour or so. You’re driving - it’s the only way Aaron can hear you in the car, so you’ll probably nap or post up in the backseat when it’s his turn to take the wheel. 

You glance over at him before you hit the state line. “You’re thinking very loudly over there.” 

A smile pulls at his lips. The heel of his hand supports his cheekbone as his elbow rests on the window ledge. “Am I?”

“Mhmm.” 

He shrugs a little. “It’s weird not driving.” 

“Ah. So that’s why you’ve been silent for the last…” you check the clock on the dash, “thirty nine minutes.” You’re teasing him and he knows it, but it’s also loaded with questions. 

There’s silence, and you wait for him. It’s another thing you’ve learned about him in the last year. Sometimes he’s quiet, but he never avoids you for long. 

“I’m thinking about Kate.” 

There he is. 

You prompt him a little, intrinsically knowing he needs a direction. “Did she have family?”

He nods. “An older sister. She’s flying in from London for the service, but their parents are gone and she wasn’t married, so...that’s it.” 

Still looking at the road, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.” 

His hand covers yours for a second. “Thanks.”

You pull back, adjusting your grip on the wheel. A question pushes at your lips, but you roll it around in your head before you really consider asking it aloud. 

“You can ask.” 

Your head whips toward him for just a moment. “What?”

“You can ask,” he repeats, the shadow of a smile crossing his face. “I know you want to.”

You concede with a little chuff. “Fine. What happened between you and Kate?” 

“In what sense?” He’s totally fucking with you, and you shove at his shoulder. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

He shakes his head. “Alright, fine. There was…” he searches, “a moment when she and I were finished working together on the Scotland Yard case that something...happened.” 

“Something?”

“Well,” he amends, “nothing actually happened, but let’s just say she had a couple too many and made her intentions very clear.” 

Can’t blame her for that one. 

Yeah, and that’s why we don’t get drunk with everyone else. Shit happens. 

You glanced at him, suppressing a smile. “So what happened?”

He shakes his head, and there’s a sort of dry humor in his voice when he answers,“Obviously, she was pretty out of it, so I took her back to her place and made sure she was settled for the night with a glass of water and some aspirin.” A smile cuts through his huff of laughter. You’re not surprised to hear mourning in it, too. “She was miserable in the morning, and called me to ask what happened the night before. I may have...very loosely implied that something small might have happened, just to save her the embarrassment.” 

He pauses, and you know he’s a little reluctant to be this vulnerable - you’re almost sure he never expected to tell this story to anyone, let alone you. 

“The attraction was mutual, so I didn’t feel too bad about omitting the consequences of her…” he searches for a word again, “forwardness. It was - is - something I respect about her both personally and professionally.” 

“Did you ever tell Haley?”

He shook his head. “I told her the truth - that she needed some help getting home, I set her up for the night, and came right back. She wasn’t thrilled, but she and Kate got on well enough that she didn’t mind too much. I think she was more annoyed that I got home so late even without a case, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

You laugh a little. “That sounds like her.” 

“She wasn't always like this, you know.” His voice takes on something a little more pensive, and you settle deeper into your seat to let him know you’re listening, even if your eyes hardly stray from the road. “We had a ridiculous amount of fun together when we were younger - first married, I was fresh out of law school, everything ahead of us, and all that.” He heaves a sigh. “It’s really only since Jack was born that things got...bad.”

He pauses, thinking for a moment. “I wish I could explain the work to her - I sometimes wish she could see it, even though I never actually want her to see the things we see every day.”

You keep your voice light, understanding. “I get that. It can’t be easy knowing that we’re your family, too, and even that’s difficult to explain.” 

There’s silence, and you know there’s a tacit agreement in it. 

His next comment comes a little from left field, but it makes you smile. “She likes you, by the way. She really does.” 

“Good.” You glance over at him. “I’m glad.” 

There’s something he wants to say, and you raise your eyebrows expectantly, knowing he can see it in your profile. 

“Would you want to come over sometime and spend some time with Jack? I -” he exhales, and tries again. “It’s sometimes...weird to have him all to myself.” He laughs a little. “I almost don’t know what to do with him all day when it’s just the two of us.” 

A real smile breaks across your face. “I’d love to.” 

He nods, satisfied with himself. “It’ll be nice for Haley to see you as well. I know she feels a little cut off these days.” 

“Understandable.” 

Another bout of silence fills the car. It’s comfortable. Safe. 

“Thank you,” he says, after a long while. 

You look over, letting your eyes wander down his profile for a moment. “Of course.” 

+++

You stay at a little motel off the highway, pulling over after about four hours on the road. It’s only a little ways back to Fairfax, where you’ll drop him off at home before returning the car to Quantico, but Rossi’s right - it’s nice to take some time. 

In two separate double beds across the room from each other, you wish each other good night in the dark. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @pan-pride-12 @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @katiejuliana @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @sapphicstars 

[tumbleweed-palmer]

It Was Inevitable: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy Palmer falls into a sugar daddy relationship with Y/N, but what happens when he falls in love with her? This can only end in heartbreak. It's inevitable.

===========

Jimmy Palmer never would have thought he would wind up in a situation like this. He knows that sounds like such a cliché. It’s true though, he never thought he would wind up doing anything like this and it’s a mess. It is the definition of a mess.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He doesn’t know how things got so complicated so fast.

It all began with a case and a little comment from Tony.

The case involved a dead sailor and the revelation that said dead sailor was taking part in a sugar daddy type of “relationship” with a young woman. There was some suspicion that she might have been the one responsible for his death…and in a way she was…no she didn’t shoot the man herself, but another one of her clients did out of jealousy.

Tony had made some offhand remark about how these types of “relationships” always ended in a disaster.

Of course this had quickly prompted teasing from Ziva and McGee about just how Tony knew so much about these types of relationships…which had in turn resulted in Tony admitting he’d maybe looked at a website designed for the purpose of those types of relationships.

Or as Tony had put it. “It was research for a case I was consulting on. I chatted with a girl for strictly professional purposes…she was a nice girl, very hot, a total ten, but ya know…I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM. That kind of relationship just seems destined to fail.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but to hang on to the entire concept of a sugar baby.

Jimmy Palmer had always been terribly curious. It was a positive attribute to have, Dr. Mallard had always insisted. The first step to any type of learning was curiosity.

Then again didn’t curiosity kill the cat?

As hard as Jimmy tried to forget about the entire case his brain had clung onto the details. He had so many questions about sugar babies. How exactly did that type of relationship work? Did it feel degrading for either party? Did it involve sex or was it just about having companionship in other ways? What types of things did the sugar baby expect? What kind of guy was into a relationship like this? Was it like a business transaction or a friendship? And most importantly what type of girl was interested in this type of relationship?

Jimmy had found a website faster than he would ever admit. It was just to satisfy his curiosity he’d told himself.

Wasn’t Dr. Mallard always yammering on about the importance of understanding how people’s minds worked in their line of work? You had to understand how the human mind worked to understand how people could do something like shove an ice pick through someone’s heart or shoot a man in an alleyway. Perhaps having an understanding of how these types of relationships worked would make Jimmy a better medical examiner.

This was an educational endeavor Jimmy had told himself. He could make a quick profile, take a look around, and then his curiosity would be satisfied and he’d never have to think about this ever again.

For the most part the girls on the website had been kind of what Jimmy had been picturing. They were beautiful of course. However, it was obvious that a few of them weren’t even real people. Their photos and their profiles seemed a little too good to be real. They were most likely scam artists who’d stolen some photos of attractive women hoping to make a quick buck off some naive guy with a large bank account.

He’d been almost ready to give up and call his little educational experience a total bust when he’d spotted her profile.

It was her username that had caught his attention: Belle Mort.

Jimmy had taken a semester abroad his junior year in France. He still understood the french language just enough to translate her username: Beautiful Death.

The little sense of familiarity and the mention of a subject that his career revolved around had been enough to spark his interest and before he could stop himself he’d clicked on her profile.

She was different from the other girls on the site.

She was a few years younger than him; still in her twenties. She was a college student  working on her masters. She’d mentioned her university fees were expensive and she was looking for companionship and a way to ease the financial strain. So, why not try an option that could offer her both monetary gain and companionship. She listed films and music she enjoyed a few of which Jimmy recognized. She seemed to enjoy art and overly sweet iced coffee. There were photos of her at museums and coffee shops. She posed in front of sculptures and paintings. She posed with a comically large iced coffee at an outdoor cafe somewhere. She was a beautiful woman. She wasn’t as in your face like the other profiles though. There was almost something elegant about her.  

Her profile wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He’d expected something kind of vulgar to be honest, like something straight out of one of the men’s magazines Tony liked to read at work when he thought Gibbs wasn’t looking.

Most of the other women on the site had been in bikinis and more revealing outfits. The outfit Belle Mort had worn in her main profile photo was sexy, sure, it hugged her body well, but the black sundress had seemed so much less intimidating than the other women’s clothing choices. The other women seemed dressed for a night of clubbing. Belle Mort seemed as though she could fit in at any cafe or farmers market in the DC Virginia area.

Her profile had made her seem less like some sort of sultry seductress and more like the girl next door. There was almost something playful about how she described herself despite the more serious tone of her username.

There was something about her that just seemed so approachable. She looked like the kind of girl Jimmy would spot at a coffee shop or maybe even on campus at Georgetown, but would never have the nerve to actually approach.

That was Jimmy’s big problem it seemed. Jimmy Palmer had never been too terribly great about approaching girls, especially ones who he found pretty. Most of his past flings and romantic encounters had been with women who approached him.

Jimmy wasn’t really the type to make the first move. He’d be the first to admit he was more the type to pine after a pretty girl but never quite work up the nerve to hit on her. He wasn’t the dominant type when it came to romance.

Jimmy had never really had that much confidence when it came to women. He was awkward at the best of times when it came to communication, but when it came to a pretty girl he could be hopeless.

Maybe that was what had driven him to click on the little message button by her profile. It was too easy to send her a quick message knowing that if he was rejected at least it would be over a computer screen and not in person. Being rejected online seemed so much less pathetic than being rejected in person.

The message Jimmy had sent had been so simple. Hi. So, Beautiful Death? Where did the inspiration for that come from? I’m Jimmy by the way.

He hadn’t expected to get a message back that same night and the message he had gotten back had only made him all the more intrigued. Hello. It comes from an essay I wrote recently on death and funeral culture in medieval era France. A little morbid of a subject, I know, but I guess it’s an odd little interest of mine. I’m impressed you caught the translation. <3 Y/N.

Jimmy had read the message over and over and over again. His brain picking it apart. He’d only grown more intrigued the more times he read it. And her name, he read her name a thousand times thinking it sounded so much nicer than Belle Mort.

He’d been unable to stop himself from messaging her back and had been delighted as she’d been open to sending him one in return.

This had gone on for a while, Jimmy working up his confidence to broach the subject.

He’d been unable to stop himself from admitting it to her. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how this works.

A sigh of relief had left him at the response she’d given him. Lucky for you I’m a bit new to this myself. There’s no correct way to go about this. We can figure it out together, that is, if you’re interested?

Jimmy was interested, he was very interested. He knew he’d sounded far too eager when he’d let her know that he was, but luckily for him she didn’t seem to mind.

She’d requested that  he send her a photo of himself. He hadn’t gotten around to actually placing a photo of himself on his profile that he’d made when he’d signed up for the site. After all, he hadn’t signed up for the site with the intention of actually messaging anyone at all.

He’d been hesitant to send her a photo, what if this was a scam? Maybe she’d steal the photo and post it somewhere online to shame him? Maybe she was a hacker who’d hack into his contacts and send it and all their messages to his friends and family and anyone in his contact list? Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to shame him as some kind of pervert? Maybe she was planning on blackmailing him with this?

He’d ignored this fear though doing his best to take a photo of himself where he didn’t think he looked too horrible. He’d used a digital camera loading the photo up onto his laptop and sending the photo before he had time to second guess the choice.

He’d felt his cheeks flush at the response he’d gotten. I have to be honest Jimmy. You’re cuter than I expected. I thought you’d be much older. You’re a handsome guy. Are you sure you need me? I’m sure there would be plenty of girls who’d be happy to get to know you.

She calling him cute had caused a warm feeling to wash over him. She thought he was handsome.

He’d ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was all bullshit; that she was just flattering him to get paid. It was nice to be complimented even if it was fueled by monetary gain.

He’d sent her a fast response. I need you, please.

That had been all it had taken. They’d exchanged numbers and after a few conversations over the phone, the first few pretty awkward to be honest, they’d managed to work out something between them.

It hadn’t been sexual, not at first. At first they’d just spent time together. He’d liked the companionship. He’d taken her to dinner and to art galleries. He’d taken her to museums once he’d realized she was a history major with the focus being on French history.

They spent their time talking. He felt like it was so easy to open up to her about whatever was troubling him. She never seemed to blink twice at the odder more macabre aspects of his job like most people tended to do. She didn’t mind that he could be anxious and she didn’t seem to mind that he had a tendency to be more awkward than he liked to admit. She didn’t even mind his puns or his terrible jokes. She seemed to like him the way he was.

She seemed to enjoy their time together or at least it seemed like she enjoyed it. She was so willing to praise him and compliment him. No one really praised him like she did. She was just there when he needed her. Even though a little voice in the back of his head told him her compliments were empty, he ignored that voice and soaked up her praise like a sponge.

She made it so easy for him to become so dependent on her. He wanted to please her. There was something addictive about seeing her happy and knowing he was the reason behind that happiness.

It felt like a friendship. In a lot of ways Y/N began to feel like Jimmy’s therapist/friend. He opened up to her about his worries and she listened and gave him advice. She was the first person he wanted to call whether he was having a great day or the worst day ever. She was where his mind went to in his quiet moments.

It felt like a friendship.

The little voice in the back of his head of course was always quick to remind him that they weren’t friends though…you didn’t have to pay someone for friendship.

He’d shushed the voice though, it felt too nice to spend time with her. He could pretend that this was something more than what it was he told himself.

Jimmy had the money to keep this up. His grandparents had long ago set up trust funds for his sister and he both. They’d made some smart investments and those investments had paid off.

Jimmy had never really been the materialistic type.

He might occasionally use the money to buy himself a gaming system or maybe a nicer tie. He’d used a little bit of it to put towards student loans. He mostly left the money alone though. Maybe it was the resentment he felt about it. His grandparents were on his father’s side after all, and his father had been such a bastard. So, in a way, using the money too often made him feel sick to his stomach.

Using the money on Y/N though, that didn’t make him feel sick. He told himself he might as well use the money on this. The trust fund was constantly growing with the investments and he might as well take advantage of it doing something that he enjoyed.

He placed money in her bank account when they spent time together. She didn’t charge him by the hour. It was one rate that they’d agreed on for each date. He’d been surprised at how easily she had presented all the fine little details of how this arrangement was going to work. She had given him her terms and had answered any questions he’d had about just what this arrangement would entail. She’d seemed to have it all figured out despite her admission that she was still pretty new to all of this.

It had become almost second nature to him, something he could do without even thinking, he slipped money into her bank account and went on with whatever they’d planned out for a date.

He did other things for her though aside from the payments to her account. He bought her gifts; flowers and perfume and a cashmere scarf he thought she’d like. Then he’d begun buying her jewelry. It was never anything really extravagant. It was mostly antique pieces that he was sure she’d like given her interest in history. She never asked for the gifts, he just liked the reaction he got when he gave them to her.

The gifts were what had led to their arrangement becoming sexual. She’d been the one who initiated it. The gifts were so nice she’d insisted, she wanted to do something nice for him as a thank you.

Jimmy had tried to insist that she didn’t have to of course, he hadn’t given her the gifts expecting anything in return other than the simple act of knowing he was pleasing her. She had insisted she wanted to do this for him though. And Jimmy had found that he was incapable of denying her this. He could admit that he wasn’t the most experienced guy on the planet at least when it came to the amount of women he’d been with. She was a beautiful woman and she seemed to want to please him. He was incapable of saying no to her. He’d let her take the reins on that front deciding to just go with it. How many opportunities like this would fall into his lap after all?

If anything this had made their arrangement feel more like a friends with benefits type of situation.

He could admit that the sexual aspect of this entire arrangement had only made things between them feel all the more complicated though. It was inevitable really, how could he share such an intimate action with someone without it meaning something?

They were playing a dangerous game and the longer it persisted the more Jimmy was beginning to realize his heart was going to be broken in the end.

It was undeniable how he felt about her. It was the only explanation for why she constantly seemed to be on his mind. It was almost pathetic really, he’d fallen in love with someone who he was paying to spend time with him. He’d fallen in love with his Sugar Baby. He was pretty sure that this was a recipe for disaster.

Lately this realization had seemed all the more apparent to Jimmy. Someone was going to get hurt if they kept this up, and he had a feeling it was going to be him. He loved her, but she could never love him. It was all so hopeless.

There didn’t seem to be any way of stopping the arrangement though, not now. He knew he could end it at any moment, but he remained helpless to do so. He was in too deep now. She had become such a fixture in his life. It was almost as though she was a siren calling him to what would certainly be his doom, but he was far too entranced to care. He needed her and he didn’t care if it would only hurt him in the end.  

So that was maybe why it was so easy for him to reach for his cell phone the second Dr. Mallard stepped away for his lunch break leaving Jimmy alone in Autopsy. It took him very little time to find her number in his contact list and call it.

He couldn’t stop himself from sounding as eager as he felt as he spoke. “Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you Handsome.” Her response came so naturally and he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his lips at the sound of her voice and the little pet name she’d bestowed upon him.

He spoke up knowing he still sounded so needy. “Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course, what do you have in mind? I need to know how to dress for the occasion.” She asked.

The answer fell from his lips without hesitation. “Nothing too crazy. I was just thinking a night in with some take out, just…things have been pretty hectic lately. I just- I really need to see you tonight.”

“What time? My last class for the day ends at five.” She remarked Jimmy so fast to answer her.

“I won’t make it out of here until around five thirty if I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any complications. I’ll need time to shower though…so maybe seven would be best.” He admitted knowing he didn’t quite want to meet up with her smelling like the scent of decay and disinfectant that seemed to permeate around Autopsy.

“Sounds workable for me, Handsome. Any special requests for tonight? I know how much you love that black lace set I wore last time.” She replied, making an audible moan leave him as he clearly pictured the lace lingerie set she was recalling and just how much he’d loved the way it had hugged her body.

He spoke the words sliding from him without a second thought. “Whatever you’d like. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The giggle that left her only made his cheeks flush all the more the lust he felt for her only becoming more apparent. “Always such a gentleman. I may have to find something new to wear for you. You sound like you could really use a nice distraction tonight. You sound tense.”

He spoke his voice tight the words sliding from him without him even having to think twice now. “I am…I could use a distraction. I’ll make the deposit in your account. The usual amount.”

“Punctual as always, Handsome. I’ll let you get back to work. Those crimes aren’t going to solve themselves. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the wine. No red, I remember you don’t like the bitter. I’ll bring a Rosé or a Moscato, something sweet.”  She replied knowing him well enough by now to know exactly what he preferred.

He felt a deep sigh leave him as he hung up the phone. He was in too deep. There was no escaping this. He wanted her too much to escape this. He didn’t care if he only got to have her because of their arrangement. This was how it had to be if he wanted time with her. Sometimes he just wished things could be different.

………………………………………………………………………

They wound up on his sofa in his apartment with two wine glasses and some empty take out boxes set out on the coffee table in front of them.

She’d greeted him just how she usually did; with a kiss to the cheek. There were never kisses to the lips. The act of pressing her lips to his was just too intimate he’d guessed. She’d kiss him everywhere but his lips. He tried his best to deny how much the refusal to actually kiss him stung. He told himself he didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a real relationship.

She’d followed his request for comfort showing up to his place wearing a more casual blouse with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting cardigan. She still had made an effort for him as she usually did; her makeup looking as flawless as always. She’d traded in heels for a pair of flats and had allowed her hair to hang loosely around her face.

She managed to look stunning even in a more casual look.

She’d made good on her promise to bring wine having chosen to bring a sweet rosé with her chilled and ready for them. The bottle looked expensive and Jimmy had resisted the urge to ask if he was the one who had paid for the bottle, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t like the way it sounded, so accusatory.

She sipped her wine, her eyes cutting over to gaze upon him not helping but to sense his less than cheerful mood. It was so unlike him. If she’d figured out one thing about Jimmy it was that the man seemed to be an endless ray of sunshine and joy. He always seemed so cheerful. It was kind of refreshing honestly, to be around someone who was capable of being so positive.

She had noticed over the course of their last few dates though that something seemed to be troubling him.

She spoke daring to bring it up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Handsome? You don’t seem like your usual self.”

He managed to glance over at her the answer dancing around in his brain. Isn’t it obvious, I’m in love with the last person I should be in love with. He spoke the lie sliding from him so easily. “Work has just been hectic lately.”

She managed to give him a small teasing smile. “So it’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the statement. He had been pretty open about the somewhat hectic nature of his job. That was something he’d always liked about her, how she was willing to listen to him discuss his job without ever shying away or showing disgust at some of the more morbid aspects of it. He wasn’t accustomed to people not being fazed by his choice in career.

She spoke again the words sliding from her so easily. “If there’s something bothering you then you know you can tell me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are, I mean- you are a good listener and I appreciate it. This is just something…it’s just something I have to figure out on my own.” He admitted knowing there was no way he could tell her the truth.

He spoke again before she had time to press him for more information. “What about you? Didn’t you say your classes have been really intense lately?”

She felt a small genuine smile cross her lips still a little impressed by Jimmy’s ability to remember these details about her life. Somehow he’d gotten her to open up to him just as much as he seemed to want to open up to her. There was just something about him that had made it so easy for her to trust him to open up despite their arrangement.

She’d only had this type of arrangement once before with another man, but it hadn’t felt like this.

She hadn’t been lying to Jimmy when he’d first contacted her. She was still new to this type of work. An acquaintance had encouraged her to give it a shot. It was an easy way to make money quick. You could set your rules and your own boundaries. It was a fast way to make a lot of money without having to work very hard.

Y/N was in desperate need for some form of income and the usual part time job just wasn’t covering it. It seemed easy enough. All she had to do was spend some time with some old wealthy guy and make a quick paycheck. She didn’t have to do a thing he didn’t want to do. She was the one in charge.

Her first attempt at this hadn’t ended well. The guy was too pushy. He hadn’t exactly respected her rules and she’d cut him off. No amount of money was worth the disrespect.

She was almost considering getting out of the business around the time Jimmy had contacted her.

Jimmy wasn’t what she’d been expecting. He was different from the usual men who had propositioned her on the sugar baby website. She was accustomed to old graying business men old enough to be her father who seemed to believe that sugar baby equaled prostitute.

Jimmy wasn’t some old graying business man who wanted her to put out because he threw money at her. He’d never really pushed her for anything more than she’d offered. Maybe that was why she’d been the one who’d offered to give him more. Jimmy had seemed just happy to have her company. She couldn’t help but to want to please him as badly as he seemed to rely on making her happy.

To be totally honest she couldn’t help but to depend on his happiness as much as he seemed to depend on hers.  She couldn't deny the fact that spending time with him did give her some sense of joy. She could also admit that Jimmy did seem to be an interesting guy. Although, he seemed kind of lonely to be honest. It didn't feel like he had much of a social life outside of his coworkers. It seemed as though his career ate up so much of his time. His job seemed so sad really, but she couldn't deny that it was fascinating to hear about. She couldn’t help but to think he must see so many heartbreaking things at work though. She didn’t understand how he could be so positive in his line of work.

She’d been surprised when he’d sent her his photo. She’d been expecting another guy old enough to be her dad. Jimmy wasn’t that much older than her. She hadn’t been lying to him, he was a cute guy. She had to wonder why he felt the need to seek her out. She’d quickly realized why of course. He just seemed shy; almost painfully so. It was obvious that Jimmy Palmer was a little nervous around women. Hence why he had needed her. She’d figured she was doing the man a favor. She could help him build up his confidence. She had just never expected to like him this much.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

Jimmy Palmer was dangerous.

The more she got to know him the more she began to realize this simple fact.

She tried to shush the thoughts in her brain trying her best to play it cool and stay as calm and collected as she always did with him. “Finals week is coming. It’s always stressful. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

He felt the words leave him without hesitation. “Maybe when it’s all over we can do something special to celebrate…Maybe we can take a trip or do something like that…anything you want….I mean if you don’t have plans. You probably have plans.”

She replied not helping but to dislike the way he seemed to deflate at his own suggestion when it hit him that she might have plans for the end of her semester that didn’t involve him. “I don’t have plans. I’m sure something can be arranged for us.”

She paused not helping but to tease him. “A trip might be nice. Though it’s a little dangerous to tell me I can have anything I want.”

He felt his spirits lift at the promise of more time with her. He felt the words leave him knowing his words rang so true. “I’d give you anything you wanted, no questions asked.”

She chuckled at this statement, her hand pressing to his cheek not help but to be amused at the way he leaned into her touch. She managed to speak ignoring the warm feeling that washed over her at the way he was staring down at her. “Like I said, a dangerous promise to make me, Handsome. You should be careful I might just take you up on that offer.”

He cleared his throat remembering something he’d been hanging on to with the intention of giving it to her in a few months. He’d planned on waiting until her semester ended but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it to her early. Seeing her happy always seemed to lift his mood.

He could admit this gift was something special. The second he’d spotted it his mind had gone to her. To be honest he may have bought the particular gift with the hopes that the message behind it would read out loud and clear to her without him having to even say the words.

He felt the words leave him as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “I have something for you.”

She watched him disappear to his bedroom not helping but to be intrigued. The gifts he gave her were certainly always a surprise. He’d never seemed to have any expectations with the gifts he gave her, but she always felt the need to thank him. What better way to thank him than by pleasuring him?

It was something she hadn’t exactly done in her previous arrangement. She’d always figured it wasn’t a line she was willing to cross with a client.

She could admit that it had been easy to bring intimacy into her arrangement with Jimmy. He was an attractive guy and he seemed so eager to please her. He seemed determined to make her feel good. She figured it was a good ego boost for him, she was doing him a favor helping build up that confidence. If anything she figured it was a job perk for her.

Still she could admit that the more times she allowed their arrangement to cross this line the more complex her feelings towards Jimmy became.

She didn’t have much time to hyperfocus on the complexity of her feelings as Jimmy reappeared holding a small gift bag.

She took it from him as he sat down beside her, the words sliding from her. “I’ll never say no to a present.”

She widened her eyes, a bit stunned by what she pulled from the gift bag. The necklace was contained in a little velvety pouch. She felt a little breathless as she stared down at the red garnet hanging from a golden chain.

Jimmy spoke the words falling from him. “I remembered you said it’s your favorite gemstone.”

He paused remembering how she had told him quite a bit about it during one of their dates to a museum. There had been an exhibit on gemstones and he’d found that Y/N knew quite a bit about the subject. He could remember hanging on to every word she’d said. “From what I remember of what you told me, garnet was actually one of the most popular stones used during the Victorian era. You also said that it’s actually associated with pomegranate seeds and that according to greek mythology it was associated with Persephone.”

She nodded her head amazed he’d even recalled this conversation. “It is. It’s associated with pomegranates due to the red hue. It goes back to the myth of Hades giving Persephone a pomegranate so she would be bound to the underworld and would have to return to him when Spring ended. So greek mythology associates it as a gift to give an estranged lover with the hopes they will return to them. Greeks used to exchange garnet to travellers as a token of safe travels.”

Jimmy cleared his throat easily remembering more of what she’d told him. He spoke unable to stop himself from saying it, his true feelings spilling from him. “Garnets are also supposed to represent friendship and…love, they’re supposed to represent passionate love.”

She parted her lips, hesitant to ask him if that’s what this necklace represented to him, but she didn’t have a chance as his cell phone began to ring, breaking his gaze from hers.

He cleared his throat as he answered his phone, his brow furrowing as he listened to the person on the other end of the line for a long while before actually speaking. “Yes, Dr. Mallard. Of course, I’ll be there right away. I understand.”

Y/N didn’t speak until he hung up the phone the moment they’d shared over this newest gift too far away to grasp again.

She cleared her throat trying to play off her true feelings. “Work calling?”

“Yeah, dead petty officer found in a dumpster behind a diner.” Jimmy admitted trying not to give away too much knowing he couldn’t exactly risk breaking evidence protocol.

She gathered her coat and her gift placing the necklace in her purse as she headed for his front door.

Jimmy walked her to the door, Jimmy and she staring at one another for a brief moment. He felt himself lean closer to her, everything in him screaming to take his chance. Everything in him screamed that he had to show her what he was trying to say with the necklace. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to show her how he felt before it drove him insane. He needed more than this arrangement. He couldn’t fight this any longer. Even if it hurt him he had to try.

She turned her face from his silently rejecting his attempt to press his lips to hers as she spoke. “Be safe at work.”

Jimmy felt his heart ache at what was so clearly a symbol of her rejecting how he felt. Of course she couldn’t feel the same. Of course this wasn’t real.

“I will, thank you.” He stated his eyes turning from hers as she pulled from him.

He closed his eyes, his heart cracking as he fought the urge to chase after her. Her reaction to his attempt to kiss her had told him all he needed to know about how she felt. She didn’t want him, not in the way he wanted her.

He could distinctly hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded all too much like Tony’s repeating the same words Tony had said months ago. I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM.

A Human ATM, of course, that’s all Jimmy was to her. He was a fool to ever hope for more.

………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N found herself sitting up in her bedroom, the garnet necklace sitting in her hand, her mind going ninety miles an hour. The necklace, that damn necklace. Why’d he have to go and do that? Why’d he have to do this?

The other gifts hadn’t been so intimate. The other gifts hadn’t meant anything. They’d been innocent gifts; a perfume she liked, a pair of earrings she thought was pretty, a nice silky robe that cost a bit more than she’d usually feel comfortable spending on one item of clothing, a dozen roses, a pretty red cashmere scarf.

Those gifts had been nice of course, but they hadn’t had any meaning behind them, not like this necklace.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

It was inevitable a voice in the back of her brain told her. She’d taken him to bed, it was bound to happen. That kind of intimacy meant too much for it to just be another part of their arrangement.

That had been her first mistake; taking him to bed allowing him to make love to her more than once.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then again was sex really ever just sex?

Maybe that was why she’d always told herself she’d never sleep with a client. Jimmy had made her throw out those rules so easily though. She’d given in to her own lust and it had bit her in the ass.  

She may have never allowed him to press his lips to hers, but that hadn’t stopped those feelings from blooming within them.

Why did Jimmy have to be so sweet and charming and so kind and funny? Why did he have to be him?

This had been a mistake. This entire arrangement had been a mistake.

She’d realized it was a mistake from the start. She’d realized it was only going to end in disaster when she’d realized that she actually enjoyed her time spent with him.

She’d gone into their arrangement expecting it to be just like her previous experience where she had to smile and tolerate someone for a few hours knowing that it would be well worth the paycheck.

She didn’t have to tolerate Jimmy. She didn’t have to pretend with him.

She genuinely enjoyed being with him. Her heart lifted each time a call from him came. She felt a feeling of such warmth and adoration wash over her anytime he told her he needed her.

It wasn’t fair.

She had known she was fucked when she’d started feeling guilty about the deposits he’d placed into her bank account. She’d known she was well and truly screwed when she’d had the realization she’d like to spend time with him for free.

Her mind went to him far more often than she wanted. She remembered stories he’d told her or little habits he had. She remembered far too much about him for it to be just an arrangement between them.

What was she supposed to do now?

He clearly wanted more if this necklace and that almost kiss meant what she thought it meant.

This was no foundation to start a relationship on.

What were they supposed to tell people when they asked how they met? He was my sugar daddy and after he dropped a crap load of money on me I realized I was in love with him. He bought me a garnet necklace and I couldn’t deny how I felt about him anymore.

She knew how that made her sound. People already had enough to say when they found out about her little side hustle. People assumed the worst. Finding out she was dating a client would just reconfirm people’s worst assumptions about her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely heard her roommate enter the room, a small frown crossing the girl’s face. “What’s with you?”

Y/N sighed ignoring the question choosing to ask her own question. “What do you need?”

Her roommate shot her a sheepish smile as she spoke. “Can I borrow that dress you have? The green one? I have a date.”

Y/N nodded her head giving a nonverbal answer, her brain easily sliding back into her own loop of despair over this entire mess.

Her roommate spoke a small sigh leaving her. “Why are you at home? You’re usually out with the Sugar Daddy on the weekends.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh her voice tense. “He had work.”

“That doesn’t explain why you look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” Her roommate easily remarked Y/N rolling her eyes at this statement.

She spoke, deciding to just be honest about it. “Shit’s getting complicated with him.”

Her roommate spoke easily, guessing the issue. “He’s getting a little too attached?”

Y/N sighed hating to admit it out loud. “He’s not the only one.”

“Shit, well what are you doing to do about it?” Her roommate dared to ask Y/N feeling her heart crack as the only possible solution came to light.

She had kept her profile on the sugar baby website though she hadn’t had any other clients but Jimmy. She’d had no reason to. He paid her well enough to only keep him. To be honest, it had seemed almost wrong to take on any other client but him even though it was something she knew some girls did.

She sighed remembering all those messages in her inbox. She’d gotten some messages pretty recently actually.

This was a sign. She should just admit that this couldn’t last forever. It was time to let Jimmy go. He could find someone else. He had worked up his confidence with her. It was inevitable that this couldn’t last. He had to move on with his life. She ignored the way her stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. This was for the best. She had to do the smart thing for the both of them. She wasn’t right for him. A relationship with him wouldn’t work. She needed to set him free.

“I can’t do this with him anymore. It’s time to move on.”  Y/N stated hating to admit it. It was the only way this could end though.

It was inevitable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy Palmer knew he’d screwed everything up.

She wasn’t returning his calls. She wouldn’t pick up when he called her. She didn’t respond to any of his messages.

It had been weeks now and it was so obvious she was ignoring him.

He’d really gone and messed everything up.

He’d lost her. Then again was she ever his to have?

How did it all get so screwed up?

He knew how, it had all gone to hell when he’d fallen in love with her.

His despondent mood was apparently noticeable to everyone despite his unwillingness to open up about it.

He couldn’t imagine anyone would understand how he felt anyhow. They would all just judge him if they knew the details behind this entire mess.

Dr. Mallard had tried to get him to open up, but Dr. Mallard was the last person Jimmy wanted to know about this entire situation. He wasn’t sure his mentor would approve of any of this. He wasn’t sure Dr. Mallard would have much sympathy for him.

Apparently his mood was so low that even Tony had taken some sympathy on him and in a very uncharacteristic Tony act he cornered Jimmy in the hallway outside of Autopsy fast to speak to him before Jimmy could say no. “You and me Autopsy Gremlin. We’re hitting a nightclub. I don’t know what your issue is but it’s nothing a night out can’t fix. I am speaking for everyone when I say we’re sick of watching you mope. I’m guessing that a woman is the only reason behind why you’re so moody. We’re going out tonight. I feel sorry enough for you that I’ll even be your wingman. You need a rebound and you’ll be good to go.”

Jimmy wanted to say no, but he’d found himself unable to get out of it as Tony had shown up at his front steps and had practically dragged him out of the apartment.

That was how he’d wound up here in a dim nightclub, the neon lights making his head hurt, the music far too loud.

Tony had already tried to get Jimmy to talk to a few girls, but Jimmy wasn’t willing to play along with any of this.

Tony had long ago given up and had promptly ditched Jimmy to go hit on a group of girls that were part of a bachelorette party. He’d tried to drag Jimmy along with him insisting that bridesmaids were always up for a fun night, but Jimmy had resisted.

He’d found himself alone at the bar debating the best way he could escape this nightclub and go home.

He sipped his drink knowing that the alcohol would only make him feel worse.

He let his eyes scan the club the smiling faces of the other patrons doing nothing but making him feel even more terrible. There were so many couples here. Seeing them so happy and in love just made his heart crack all the more.

Why was he like this? He should have known that it would end like this. This was bound to end in heartbreak.

He almost dropped the drink he was holding as he spotted her. It couldn’t be. No fate wasn’t that cruel was it?

It was Y/N and she wasn’t alone.

He felt his stomach turn as he watched the older man she was with slide his arm around her leaning in far too close to her.

She’d told Jimmy that he was her only client. Had it been a lie? Or had his love pushed her away into the arms of a new client?

He felt a wave of jealousy wash over him at the sight of her suitor. The man was much older than him and to be honest Jimmy thought he looked kind of scummy. Sure his suit was nice, and he was handsome enough. It was the way he was gripping onto Y/N though. He was holding her far too tight in Jimmy’s opinion.

As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

He felt that jealousy boil down to anger when he watched the man lean in closer to Y/N whispering something in her ear. Judging by the look on her face she didn’t like it because she made an attempt to pull away. Her suitor apparently wasn’t pleased with this and took a tight grip to her arm yanking her back towards him.

Jimmy felt himself moving before he had a chance to second guess himself.

He felt the words leave him squaring his shoulders trying to make himself look far more intimidating than he felt. “Hey, leave her alone.”

Y/N stared up at him, the color washing from her face. Of course he was here. Why would fate be any kinder to her?

The guy stared up at Jimmy seemingly unimpressed with his attempts to look intimidating. “Back off buddy. This is between me and her.”

Jimmy didn’t back off his voice still firm knowing he at least had the advantage of being taller than this guy. “You need to let go of her. She’s trying to get away from you.”

Y/N spoke trying to smooth this all over before someone got hurt. “Jimmy-”

She didn’t have a chance to continue as her suitor spoke. “You know him Doll? You didn’t mention having any other clients.”

He glared up at Jimmy fast to speak again. “Listen Jim, I don’t know how much money you’ve given her, but I’m paying her tonight, not you. I dropped a good bit of money on her tonight so I suggest you back off and let me get my money’s worth. You can have her back when I’m done with her. Trust me, I’m having some buyers remorse right now so you might get her back sooner than later.”

Jimmy felt his fists clench as he spoke. “I’m only saying it one more time, let go of her.”

“Or what huh? Are you serious? You’re willing to get in a fight over a whore?” Jimmy saw red at the statement and raised his clenched fist allowing it to collide with the man’s nose, a crack sounding out audible even with the club music beating around them.

The man let go of Y/N to clutch his nose, blood pooling around him he cursing.

Y/N sighed grabbing a hold of Jimmy’s wrist as she spotted a very annoyed club bouncer making his way towards them apparently having spotted the situation.

She dragged him from the room speaking to the bouncer trying to smooth over the situation. “I know, My boyfriend saw that guy harassing me, he’s had too much to drink. I’m taking him home. Please don’t call the cops we’re leaving.”

The bouncer glared down at them, his voice gruff. “Just leave the premises and don’t come back.”

She sighed yanking Jimmy behind her heading out the entrance and around the alleyway her face flushing with embarrassment and rage.

She spoke, unable to stop herself from sounding pissed. “What in the hell was that Jimmy?”

Jimmy spoke his own anger still so apparent. “You’re welcome for defending you from a creep.”

“I had it handled. I didn’t ask for your help.” She snapped back her arms crossing as she tried to control her anger.

Jimmy scoffed at this, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, you looked like you had it all under control.”

“What’s your problem. Last I checked I’m allowed to have other clients besides you.” She remarked glaring up at him.

“You said I was your only client.” Jimmy exclaimed, unable to stop himself from saying it.

Y/N sighed shaking her head as she spoke. “You were. This was my first date with this guy.”

He spoke, needing to say it. “It’s going to be the last.”

She glared up at him ready to tell him that he had no right to tell her what to do, but he spoke again the words that left him making her defenses crumble. “I just-the way he was touching you. How he talked about you, I couldn’t stand it. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Even if this arrangement between us is over, I can’t stand you being treated that way.”

She felt a lump develop in the back of her throat, her voice soft as she spoke. “I won’t see him again…I actually…I think I’m done with this whole Sugar Baby thing.”

She crossed her arms a little tighter ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She regretted not wearing a coat tonight. The little red dress her client had sent her for tonight was more revealing than she’d usually wear.

The message from this client had been sitting in her inbox for almost a month now but she’d just replied to it earlier this week. Against her better judgement she’d agreed to a date almost immediately. She thought it was necessary if she wanted to forget Jimmy Palmer.

Jimmy sighed, spotting her shiver, taking her by shock as he took off his own coat draping it over her shoulders.

She held it against her hating the feeling of warmth that washed over her both at the warmth of the wool coat and the sweetness of the action. She managed to speak averting her eyes from him. “Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a moment unsure of where to go from here. What could they say in a moment like this?

Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft and broken. “Why did you have to do it Jimmy? The damn necklace, why? You made everything too real.”

Jimmy sighed knowing exactly what she was asking. He spoke unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her. Jimmy spoke again needing to just say the words. “I love you Y/N, I love you. I know our situation isn’t typical, but I can’t deny how I feel.”

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to water as she gazed up at him. “You can’t be in love with me.”

“Why not, give me one good reason why I can’t.” Jimmy replied far too stubborn to let this go.

She spoke the words coming to her so easily. “Look at how we met Jimmy. Everything about this thing we have, it was all you paying me for my time. We never even had a real date where you didn’t pay me for my companionship. How do you even know what you feel for me is real?”

“I don’t care if I was paying you. I don’t care how any of this started. I know it’s real. I feel it everytime I look at you. I can’t deny how I feel about you Y/N. I love you. My mind is always with you. Anytime I have a moment of peace my mind goes to you and it feels like my heart is always with you. I can’t stop myself from loving you. I may have been paying you, but everything between us has been real. I’ve always been myself with you and I think I trust you enough to know that you’ve always been yourself with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you. It’s real to me. I love you.” He insisted reaching out, taking her hand in his relieved that she didn’t pull it away.

She shook her head still wanting to deny this. This wouldn’t work. Couldn’t he see it? “What kind of foundation is that to build any kind of relationship on? You can’t be in love with me not when it started like this. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met me? Are you really prepared to deal with people assuming the worst about us?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they can’t accept how I feel about you then I don’t want them in my life.” He insisted his hand not leaving hers as he stepped closer to her.

He stared down at her speaking from the heart needing to say it. “We can start again if that’s what it takes. If this can’t be our foundation then we can build a new one. We can start over.”

He paused letting go of her hand and holding his hand out to her as he spoke. “Hi it’s nice to meet you, my name is James Palmer, but my friends call me Jimmy. I work as a medical examiner’s assistant for NCIS. I’m currently taking classes to become a Dr. Palmer so I can take my medical examiner’s license exam.  I like overly sweet coffee and I’ve been told I tell really terrible jokes. I’d like to take you out on a date, actually I’d like to take you on several dates.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips both hating and adoring that he was this sweet. Could he be right? Could they build an entirely new foundation? Could they start again?

She stared up at him, the answer so obvious. It was inevitable really. They’d set themselves on this path the second she’d responded to that first message he’d sent her. There was no denying how she felt.

She gave him her answer, leaning up her lips pressing to his. He managed to realize exactly what was happening easily, his hands pressing to her face deepening the kiss, it being everything he’d dreamed it might be.

She spoke as she reluctantly pulled from the kiss her voice soft. “I would love to go on several dates with you. As long as I can pay for some of those dates.”

He gave her a soft smile, his lips pressing back to hers as she spoke. “I love you Jimmy.”

He smiled into the kiss it growing in passion so effortlessly.

She spoke her voice soft as she once again pulled her lips from his. “I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore. I think I’d rather just be yours.”

He pressed his lips to hers the answer leaving him before his lips met hers. “I don’t want to be your Sugar Daddy anymore. I’m already yours.”

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 9

Shorter bit this time! Anyone who watched Impact Slammiversary can predict what happens here.

Previous sections (including the original that spawned this multi=part monster) can be found in the Master List.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 1,362

Content advisory: nothing really, other than cursing. there's always cursing.

You’re determined to have coffee made by the time he wakes up but it feels like you’re bumping into everything and making the maximum noise possible. As soon as you got out of bed and grabbed the first shirt you found, which happens to be his shirt, your legs felt like they were only partially under your control. It’s not just that you’re physically off but that you’re emotionally off as well. You keep peeking back in the bedroom to make sure he’s still there.

When the coffee is ready, you pour two large mugs, pleased that you remember how he takes it, and pad back into the bedroom.

His eyes open just a crack and he gives a languid smile.

“Bringing me coffee and wearing my shirt? Are you trying to kill me?”

You laugh and put his mug down on the night table.

“Put them both down.”

You oblige and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you down on top of him. He plays with the hem of your shirt for a few seconds before speaking.

“Well this has never looked better.”

You can’t resist leaning in for a kiss, which he welcomes, running his fingers through your hair and holding your face close even when you separate.

“So how long are you supposed to be here before you go back to Japan?”

“As long as I want. I didn’t ask for an excursion, David, I quit. Gedo came up with this because he didn’t want to lose me and they need help over here.”

“You seriously quit,” he repeats incredulously. “That must have gone over well.”

“I guess they really liked me after all.”

“You know that’s not who I meant.” He gives you an insouciant look. “How did he take it?”

You push yourself back up to a sitting position because you want him to have a clear view of your face as you tell him. “No idea. I left him a note thanking him for the opportunities he’d given me and telling him that the time had come for me to move on to other things.”

“Damn. Didn’t even say it to his face.” He shakes his head a little. “Doesn’t sound like you’re over him.”

You’re surprised at the total lack of resentment in his voice, like he’s just pointing out something you might not have considered before.

“Fair enough,” you sigh. “I guess some things you just have to walk away from and deal with on your own time because it would just be too drawn-out and fucked up if you tried to do it while you were still in the thick of things. Not every situation gets closure.”

He smiles again, which surprises you and also makes you feel warm through your whole body.

“I like that,” he says softly, squeezing your hip. “Now you can get off me because I need coffee.”

It’s well into the afternoon by the time he heads back to his place and once he’s gone, you have to go for a long walk just to burn off some of the happy energy you’re feeling. By early evening, he calls.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Thinking of ordering pizza.”

“Can I have some?”

“No. You can’t do a cheat meal the night before a big show.”

“Fine. I’ll sit here and eat cauliflower all night or something.”

“Sounds like I should keep an eye on you to make sure you’re not eating anything you shouldn’t.”

So it’s not long at all before you’re over at his place and the two of you are cooking dinner together, which largely consists of you retrieving ingredients, chopping vegetables and herbs, and letting him handle the actual cooking part. It seems like you’re both trying to stretch out this part, trying to have a longer conversation because it’s been a while since you’ve been able to do that, but it’s also very obvious from your body language that you’re itching to get your hands on each other. Eventually, it becomes impossible to hold back.

“You have bruises,” you giggle as the two of you recover your breath in his bed.

“Comes with the job.”

“Those aren’t from another wrestler.”

“Lucky for you people will think they were and won’t know you’re beating me when they aren’t around.”

“No, they’ll think they’re from training and that you’ve been working very hard the last couple of days.”

“Well, I’ve been getting good cardio in.”

You pull him close to you, laughing. You desperately want to find a way to ask if you get to go home with him tonight, after the show. Having spent the last two nights together, it’s not exactly like he should feel obliged to be with you again, especially not if he’s sore or wants to just hang out with the guys. But you love the idea of being able to celebrate with him, and the idea that he might want to share that moment with you.

In the end, you can’t come up with a way to broach the subject without making yourself feel exposed, and the two of you go from affectionately touching each other to being aroused once again, which takes your mind off things rather quickly. Still, you make sure that you at least repeat that you love him, in case he thinks that you were in any doubt.

*

It’s been a long time since you could just be a wrestling fan and be in an audience cheering and booing and laughing. Impact has made sure you have a great seat, right in front, where you can feel like you’re part of everything. You know a lot of people in the audience, they’re mostly friends and family who’ve been invited to serve as a stepping stone between an empty theatre and the return to live audiences. Even the small group, though, makes things feel exciting, so there you are, carrying on like a 12-year-old, losing yourself in the experience.

Of course, you pop especially loud when FinJuice make their surprise (to everyone else) return. Seeing him at a remove like this, where you’re not supposed to know him outside of his in-ring persona, gives you a little thrill. It’s like the fact that you know him is your secret. He does give you a little wink as he passes and you bite your lip reflexively.

The whole show is a lot of fun and builds to a great climax. You’ve been backstage for Kenny Omega matches before but you’ve never had the opportunity to just appreciate what a great worker he is. It’s so easy to get caught up in the story he tells and Callihan, tough bastard that he is, makes a perfect counterpoint. You can feel in the back of your mind that the company has one more surprise coming. They love this sort of thing, especially as a big closer and you can’t blame them. There’s something about the faces in the crowd that makes you think that everyone senses something in the air.

And, as the despicable winners raise their hands and preen in the ring, the room goes dark. There’s a deep silence that engulfs the room for a moment and then the sound of metal scraping on metal, a sound you know all too well. It cuts right through you, down to the bone.

No. It’s not possible.

The music kicks in, every note of it like an electrical shock. You can hear the voices rising from the nearby commentary booth. “Is he here?!?”

You give a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening. Please don’t let this be happening.

The music continues to swell as Omega and his boys stand in the ring, perplexed and anxious, until finally a figure emerges at the top of the ramp, surveying everything around him with a sort of bemused contempt as he picks his way through the last match’s wreckage and down to the ring. He looks so good it’s like an insult.

Behind you, one of the commentator’s voices cries out “It’s Switchblade Jay White!”

And as soon as you hear that, your knees buckle and everything goes dark.

[starrynite7114]

Two Weeks (Miguel Galindo)

A/N: Tomorrow is my final and I think I’ve reached the point of a mental breakdown that you’re just numb to it. But no matter, positive thoughts all around and hoping my brain isn’t so mean anymore. But due to this, I needed a much needed distraction and finished part one of my Miguel mini series. He may be a little OOC, but I hope you all enjoy this lovely work of mine.

Everything is you, Snapshots, Misconstrued, and two requests will be posted within the next two weeks. 

Also may be adding Rio to my lovely writing list, we’ll see. 

This is my brain on procrastination, please forgive me. 

Love you all and I hope you lovelies are having an amazing week thus far!

Masterlist

Tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @ifoundmyhappythought​ : @carlaangel86​ : @marvelmaree​ : @woahitslucyylu​ : @encounterthepast​ : @enamoured-x​ : @whyisgmora​ : @briana-mishell24​ : @bribri-82​ : @briannab1234​ : @chibsytelford​ : @agirllovespasta​ : @twistnet​ : @everyhowlmarksthedead​ : @trulysuccubus​ : @jadert15​ : @sammskellington​ : @cind-in-real-life​ : @claytoncardenasbabymama​ : @sadeyesgf​ : @thickemadame​ : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass​ : @gemini0410​ : @elcococruz​ : @samcrobae​ : @sesamepancakes​ : @iambabyharry​ : @blackmissfrizzle​ : @soamayansfangirl​ : @1-800-imagines​ : @phoenixhalliwell​ : @lady-pswrld​ : @dazzledamazon​  : @getyourcrayoncas​ : @fvckthisbxtchup​ : @lukealvxz​ : @scuzmunkie​ : @nakusaych9​ : @danie1432​ : @cocotheclown​ : @soaronmywings​ : @my-rosegold-soul​ : @buttercup812​ : @itskiranbitch​ : @angelreyesgirl​ : @sheeshgivemeabreak​ : @vicmackeybullshxt​ : @strawberrywritings​ : @cherry-icetea​  : @losolvidad0s​ : @brownsugarcoffy​ : @courtrae89​​ : @blessedboo​​ : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind​​ : @fariesandwanderlust​​ : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ : @xserenax-13​ : @whatupitshuff​ : @aquamento​ : @justvnash​ : @maddie-georges​ : @itskiranbitch​

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment below or just message me!

CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL GIF CREATOR!

You couldn’t do this, you were at wits end. You wanted nothing more than to throw your work phone away as it constantly rang, constantly interfered with your life, sanity, sleep, and did you already say sanity? Just in case, your sanity. 

“If I ignore it, it never happened.” You looked at the clock and it was three in the morning, you had to be up in three hours to get ready for work to see this despicable man once more. 

The ringing stopped, a sigh of relief overtaking your body. Your eyes closed and yet again, it fucking rang.

“FUCK YOU MIGUEL GALINDO.”

You took a deep breath, gathering what remained of your sanity.

“Hello Mr. Galindo, what can I do for you at three in the morning?”

His chuckle rang across the phone, aggravating you more. “Ooh, Mr. Galindo? I’m in trouble, rightfully so. I apologize for calling you so early in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a conundrum.”

“Miguel, I am not picking you up from Alejandra’s place.”

“I gave Nestor the night off.” He argued.

“I’m technically off too you asshole!” You were one of the few who didn’t fear Miguel. You knew of his capabilities, but you figured you were far too valuable.

“Yes, I am fully aware of that, your nights are sacred. But you know I rarely call you on nights.” He countered.

“Correct that statement.”

“Anymore.” He corrected himself. 

“Miguel, why do you continue to meet this girl if you’re not interested in her?” Ever since his divorce with Emily two years ago, Miguel has been single and kept it that way. Which in hindsight was for the best. With the cartel, real estate, which he still headed with Emily, and the rebels, he had plenty of things to occupy his time. But you knew why he liked the causality of his relationship with Alejandra. 

No strings attached.

No questions.

No commitments.

It fit his lifestyle.

“Because, I have needs and you know, she’s easy on the eyes.”

You begrudgingly got out of bed and made sure to sigh loudly. Miguel chuckled, and you just cussed his name in the three languages you knew. 

“Stop cussing me out in your head. Are you coming to get me?”

“I get the day off.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Better cuddle up then.”

“Fine, but we’re having breakfast then you can have your day off.”

“No work talk during breakfast or the ride home.”

Miguel groaned. “Deal.”

===========

You sat across from Miguel at this diner in San Diego, your usual spot whenever you picked him up from Alejandra’s. Miguel rarely indulged himself or let his real self out due to his obligations as a cartel head. He had a reputation to maintain, his playful and joking nature was hardly in display. But whenever he let himself be free, it was easy to see why Emily fell for him. 

You didn’t, but you could acknowledge why your asshole of a boss could be charming.

You dedicated ten years to Miguel. He taught you the ins and outs of business along with his illegal activities. If he was ever indicted, you knew you would be a target as well. Miguel always tried to keep you out of the cartel side of things, but that proved to be difficult. 

Straight out of college, twenty-two years young with your English major in hand, you applied for Miguel’s assistant position. What was supposed to be an in between job before doing a Master’s program turned into ten years of unfulfillment. You learned much from Miguel. He forced you to learn how to become a business woman, to think like him. You were the brain that wasn’t attached to him. 

But you had to walk away.

You were thirty-two years old, with nothing to your name. You wanted to be something. You couldn’t be his assistant forever. As much as he was a pain, you enjoyed working with Miguel, but you could still enjoy his friendship without working with him.

“Do you think I should involve myself in a relationship again? It doesn’t look good for my image if I remain unattached.” Miguel broke you out of your thoughts.

“True, but if you remain single, less people to worry about. Personal relationships in your line of work is hardly ideal.” This constitutes as business talk, but you’ll let it slide. 

“You’re right, and this is why you’re my right hand.” Miguel knew that technically belonged to Marcus or even Nestor, but he never made a decision without your input. He was just used to it. 

“I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Go for it.” Miguel gave his full attention to her. “Are you finally going to confess your undying love for me?”

You know she liked playful Miguel, but when he was being this obnoxious, she liked hardened, cartel boss Miguel.

“Right, should I stab you now or later?” You rolled your eyes making Miguel laugh. “I’m going to look for a new secretary.”

“Sure, you need help?” Miguel hardly argued with you. He trusted your judgment after all.

“No, I’m resigning.”

===========

“She has to be in love with me.” Miguel paced back and forth in his office, a few hours after your breakfast.

Nestor watched his boss and closest friend, amused by his suggestion.

“Y/N?” It’s not that Nestor couldn’t see you falling for Miguel, but, that wasn’t it. “You’ve said it yourself that she’s far too bright to remain your assistant forever.”

“That was just insanity talk, of course I expect her to stay by my side.” Miguel stopped in front of Nestor. “She quit right after she picked me up from Alejandra’s. She hated picking me up from there and she never got along with Emily.”

“All circumstantial. You know she cherishes her sleep, most likely the reason she was annoyed. Second, Emily was always a bitch to her.” Emily never liked you since she thought you undermined her with Miguel, which was far from the truth. Nestor witnessed a majority of your fights and it was hardly pretty. “All circumstantial.”

“No, she’s jealous. I know it. No matter, I can get rid of Alejandra.”

Nestor shook his head. He knew this day would come, you spoke to him about it quite often recently. But he didn’t think it would be too soon. He also knew Miguel wouldn’t handle it well. It was hard for him to trust anyone and the fact the person he trusted most was going to leave? 

Miguel was at the first stage, denial. 

===========

You drove up the driveway of Miguel’s home the next morning, Nestor greeting you by your car.

“You had to drop that bombshell and take the day off?” Nestor shook his head. He loved Miguel, he did, but yesterday was full of theories and bullshit he didn’t want to partake in.

“Well if you’re didn’t take the night off then I could have told him later that morning.” You retorted, glaring at your friend.

“You’re punishing me for taking a personal day?”

“I’m not punishing you, I didn’t think he was going to go overboard with the theories.” Nestor texted you every fucking thing that Miguel had said. It went from you having a secret family, secret boyfriend to being in love with him, which was what he settled with.

“To be fair, I said it was all circumstantial.”

“And it is.” You handed your purse to Nestor. “I’m posting the job later and see if we get any candidates that are,”

You paused. “We’ll see if we can find people that are trustworthy.” It wasn’t about skills. It wasn’t about degrees. It was about being trustworthy.

“How can you even determine that?”

“I have good intuition.”

“Right, forgot, you're psychic.” He teased her. 

“Fuck you,” you playfully pushed him.

Nestor opened the door for you and you walked in finding Marcus and Miguel sitting around in the living room.

“There she is,” Miguel greeted you, giving you a hug and kissing your cheek. “How are you?”

“Good,” you gave him an odd look. “You ready, we have a packed day today.”

All three men were looking at you and you gave them a questioning look.

“Am I missing something?” 

“I got you something.” Miguel smiled, taking your hand in his. He led you through the house to the garage and before entering he requested for you to close your eyes. “If you got me a car, I swear to god.”

“Wait, why, did you not want a new car?” Miguel frowned. Materialistic items usually appeased women, it definitely kept Emily’s temper at bay when it was directed at him. But he should know how you were by now. Materialistic items rarely impressed you. He found it odd that the little things he did for you was what left the most impression. He got you a rose gold bracelet for your birthday and while you were thankful, he could tell it didn’t impress you much. He brought you lunch from your favorite restaurant, and it was like he gave you the world. 

Why the fuck did he get you a damn car? 

“I’m not Emily, Miguel, you can’t just wave a shiny thing in front of me and I’ll change my mind.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Did you get me a car?”

“No,” he closed the door. 

Nestor refrained from laughing while Marcus just chuckled.

“You already bought it, might as well let me see.” You nodded your head towards the door.

Miguel indulged you and opened the door. Your mouth dropped. “You got me a Range Rover?” It was your dream car, one that you were saving up for, and now you had it. But you weren’t staying. “As much as I want the car, it’s not going to work. I’ll be posting the job later on today.” You saw that Nestor closed the door as soon as you said that. 

“This is ridiculous, why do you want to quit? Am I not compensating you enough?” Miguel was frustrated. He didn’t want you to leave. How could you leave? He compensated you well. Always made sure you were well taken care of and to top it off, you were basically the closest confidant he had. He trusted you with his life, there was no way he could find anyone he trusted as much as you. 

“I told you, it’s for personal reasons.” You didn’t understand why you had to give him a reason. In any other job, personal reasons would suffice. 

But this was different.

You knew change was not something Miguel was a fan of, he was meticulous and hardly deviated from his normal. He had a schedule and strictly followed it. When the plans deviated, it greatly irritated him, but you always found a way to soften the blow so he wasn’t inconvenienced. 

“I think I warrant more than a generic answer.”

“Miguel, I’ve been your assistant for ten years now. It’s just time for me to move on professionally. I couldn’t possibly be your assistant forever.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He blurted it out so quickly that even he was surprised he did. Miguel hardly said anything without thinking of it, but you were an anomaly to him. He spoke before he thought of his words with you.

“No, absolutely not.” You laughed. “No offense, you’re a good looking guy, but I also know you, so no, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Miguel was slightly appalled by your rejection of the idea of being in love with him. Was he not worthy? He was a catch if he said so himself. 

“What? What do you mean why not? I’m not interested, simple as that.” You could tell your rejection affected Miguel. Not everyone fell to his feet, especially not you. “Look, now that we got that theory out of the way, want to try another? Why is it so hard to believe I just want a better career?”

“I can provide that for you.” 

“Miguel, what can I possibly do in your organization that would be a promotion? I swear to god, if you say executive assistant.”

“Come on querida, give me more credit than that.” Miguel chuckled. “You can handle the developmental projects around Santo Padre. You could be my development manager.”

“No, absolutely not, I would have to work with Emily. She already thinks we're sleeping together, the last thing I want to do is deal with Emily.” 

“Y/N, come on, I’m sure I can find something in my organization that can fulfill this desire you have.” Miguel was not comfortable with the thought of losing you. He wasn’t willing to accept it.

“Miguel, we have to move on some time, you’ll be fine. I will find the most eligible candidate for this job. I promise.” You gave him a hug. 

You needed to do this. You couldn’t stay in this job forever, you had to move on.

“Hand them over.”

“What?”

You stuck your hand out. “You got me the car, it would be rude to not take it.”

===========

“She’s in love with me, it's the only logical reason.” Miguel was sitting down on the couch by the pool, nursing the whiskey in his hand.

“Did she not say she wasn’t?” Nestor wasn’t sure why they were talking about this again when Miguel already spoke to you. 

“She’s hiding it.”

“Look, I’m going to ask this at the risk of being killed by you, but out of pure curiosity, are you hoping she’s in love with you so you can confess some deep secret you’ve kept from her?” 

“No, absolutely not, I’m not interested in her, but if it keeps her by my side, I can be with her.”

Nestor gave Miguel an incredulous look, chuckling at his friend’s terrible idea. Though, he couldn’t help, but play Devil’s Advocate.

“You know what, you should pursue her.”

“Now you see what I’m seeing. She wouldn’t be able to say no to me. I know her like the back of my palm.” 

Nestor had to refrain from chuckling. This was going to be a fun two weeks. 

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fifteen: Three Professors

A/N: This is the fifteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2001

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Within the week the gossiping from the weekend's events had almost completely died down. However, with Severus and Aria acting civil towards one another during lessons, and almost completely back to their old habits of spending the evening together a whole new set of rumours were threatening to begin.

Karkaroff had mostly backed off Aria's case on the Severus front. However, this did not mean he had any intention of stopping socialising with her any chance he got. Igor had become invested in the relationship of the two potions professors' and he would not stop until he had the answers he was looking for. He took to visiting her during the majority of her free periods, as well as some evenings after class, often convincing her to join him for a stroll around the castle grounds, where he sought to pry into her personal life, especially her relationship with the potions master. It didn't bother Aria too much to begin with, in fact, she liked the company, but as the week grew to an end, she had become suspicious of his true intentions.

Almost immediately as lessons came to an end on Friday evening, right on cue, came a knock at the door. Before the potions apprentice had a second to open her mouth, the door was already pushed ajar, revealing the sunken features of Igor Karkaroff.

"Hello Igor." Aria sighed, barely sparing him a second glance.

"Good afternoon, beautiful lady" Igor chirped, his accent almost thicker than usual. Aria rolled her eyes at the headmaster, but chuckled lightly to herself in amusement. "Are you free to join me on a leisurely stroll around the castle?" He queried, striding into the center of the room, taking a seat behind one of the student's desks.

"Are you mad, Igor? The rain hasn't stopped all day! Besides, Professor Snape set a load of essays last week, that I have the pleasure to mark. I don't think I would be much in the way of conversation today, I have too much to do." She confessed, attempted to dissuade him.

"Nevertheless, I shall keep you company. I do not have anywhere to be."

"Thank you." Aria grimaced, really just wanting to focus on getting her marking done.

"Speaking of Severus..." Karkaroff begun, once again distracting Miss Dumbledore from her work. "There have been rumours of the two of you circling the school." He stated, leaving the intention of his sentence free for Aria to interpret.

"I am very well aware, Igor." She huffed. "Though they have begun to fizzle out in the last few days, I am pleased to say." The witch continued scribbling.

"That is not what I am talking about." The man shook his head, though kept his gaze firmly on the professor in an interrogative manner.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but did not stop reading the length of parchment.

"It has been said in this past week that you have entered into a relationship with the potions master, is this true?"

"God Igor, I never thought you so naïve that you would believe that sort of rubbish." She sniggered, allowing him a smidge more of her attention. "Like I would ever go out with a man like that, you surely heard what he said to me last week, it is unforgivable." Aria scoffed. "Besides, you should know just as well as I that people love to talk, students especially. Haven't you heard the one about us? It's all a load of nonsense, don't listen to any of it."

"I was simply... curious." He shrugged. "I would not like to think a beautiful woman such as yourself had gone to waste, like you say Severus Snape is simply not worth your time. You deserve much more."

"Thank you, Igor, however I do not think this is an appropriate conversation to have between colleagues, let's keep it professional." Aria suggested, noticing that the headmaster had a tendency to sidetrack the conversation to her love life.

A minute or more passed while the pair sat in silence before another knock interrupted.

Assuming it to be a student, Aria rose from her desk and made her way to the door. "Severus." She gasped, not expecting him to respect her privacy, just as Karkaroff had not. "You knocked?... again." Aria's eyes widened, taking a step back as she came face to face with the potions master.

"Yes, well, while I am not overjoyed with the current arrangements, I at least respect your need for some privacy." Severus wavered at the door, his eyes flickering towards the young woman, before taking it upon himself to enter the room, stopping almost immediately upon spotting Igor.

"I see I was right to to announce myself." The two men shared a short but intense glare. "Igor. I see you've made yourself quite at home."

"Oh... umm, Professor Karkaroff had just stopped by for a chat while I finish up on some marking." Aria rushed to explain, knowing exactly where Snape's mind was heading. "What can I do for you, Severus?"

"I came to collect the essays I assigned last week, I did not think it fair to leave them all to you while I sat in my room twiddling my thumbs."

"That's very kind of you Severus. Would you care to join us, you look like you could use the company." Aria practically begged.

Severus considered her offer for a second, knowing that what he wanted least of all was to spend time with Igor Karkaroff. However, on the other hand, he also wasn't too keen on leaving the pair alone, unsure of what he might spill to his apprentice. In the end Snape's better judgment overcame his pride and so he proceeded to pull up a chair, separating the two already seated professors.

Severus set to aggressively scribbling notes in the margins of the students essays, the scratching of his quill on parchment dominating the room. A long while past with only this and the sounds of bubbling cauldrons occupying the professors' ears. The tension between the three thickened as time went on. All scared to speak in fear of the other's response.

Finally Igor chose to break the silence, bored of staring at the potion's professors quietly marking away in unison.

"It must be hard for you Severus." Igor tested the waters, waiting on a response.

"What are you hinting at, Igor? What exactly is hard for me?" Snape replied cautiously after a moment of deliberation.

"Well, a man like you; settled in his position, proud of his job, it must be hard knowing you'll be replaced by a must younger, much more attractive model." Karkaroff shifted position in his chair, becoming more comfortable, confident in his ability to undermine the Potions master once again.

"Despite what you may have hoped Igor, you are sorely mistaken. My job is under no threat. I was simply asked to take a short week's sabbatical, in light of the recent events, until all the commotion has died down. And that week is coming to an end." Snape turned his attention from the essays, lifting his quill from the paper, and placing it to the side.

"Yes, yes of course." Igor humoured him. His body language radiating arrogance. "But it must be worrying, knowing that your job is potentially threatened by Miss Dumbledore here. She has the same skills as you, the same knowledge, and what she doesn't know now she soon will once you've been foolish enough to teach it to her. It cannot be easy, being forced to train the woman who will inevitability replace you."

"I do not know what your game is Igor, but I assure you, Miss Dumbledore is no threat to me."

Aria's ears pricked up at the second mention of her name, her gaze shooting between the two men.

"I really don't think this is relevant boys, can't we talk about something else?" Aria nervously nibbled on the edge of her lower lip. She knew where this was going and she didn't have an answer for what was coming. She also knew how vicious these men could be when they really wanted to, and she did not want to be in the room when they both pushed the other too far.

"Oh come on, Aria, darling. It must have crossed your mind. You are younger after all, the students relate to you more, god knows it wouldn't be hard to like you more. Not to mention your lineage, it cannot be more clear who Albus would prefer to employ. His own flesh and blood? Or someone with Severus'... background?"

"Watch your mouth, Igor." Snape droned through gritted teeth and flared nostrils.

"My grandfather didn't bring me here to replace Severus. He's a great professor, and a fantastic friend to him. I would even go as far to say that he trusts Severus' with his life. I am simply an apprentice. A year's training, that's what we agreed." Aria beamed, convinced she had put out the fire, unaware to the fact Igor had just lit another spark right under Severus' feet.

"With his life, eh?" Igor chuckled to himself. "How very clever you have been, Severus."

Confused Aria simply took a step back in the conversation, finally coming to the understanding that none of this was really about her.

Aria could sense Snape was uncomfortable, his body tensed and he straightened his posture, gripping his quill for comfort.

"I think it is time for you to leave, Headmaster Karkaroff. Miss Dumbledore and I are working, and prefer not to be disturbed."

"I see your game, Severus. I always knew you were a smart man, but you have played this very well indeed. But I know you, and I might just be able to beat you at your own game, if you are not careful."

"What is he talking about Snape?" The young woman whispered, turning her full attention to her colleague.

"Goodbye, Igor." Karkaroff gladly took a stand, knowing, despite Snape's commanding tone, he had won this round.

Igor Karkaroff rounded the desk, gently lifting Aria Dumbledore's hand to his lips.

"Until, next time." He breathed, bowing his head to kiss her gently, before showing himself out. "Your past is calling you Severus, and Dumbledore is ready to replace you when you go running right back."

Snape immediately rose from his chair, Aria suspecting that he was ready to storm from the room.

"Fuck." Aria breathed, joining Snape in standing. "What the hell was all that about?"

"That is none of your concern." Snape snapped, beginning to pile his papers.

"Of course... of course, it isn't." Aria shook her head knowing it was a stupid thing to say. "I only meant... well, are you okay?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"While I appreciate your concern, Miss Dumbledore. I am not a child who needs consoling, nor do I need your pity. I am perfectly capable of handling the likes of Igor Karkaroff."

"Yes, of course, you are. I...I just-"

"Miss Dumbledore." Severus interjected, huffing though he didn't seem nearly as angry as Aria expected. He saw the woman quickly becoming flustered trying to think of the right thing to say so as not to displease him, this was not a rare occurrence. For once Severus' actually felt sorry for her and decided to cut her some slack. They had, after all, promised to become friends.

"I need you to calm down." Snape softly commanded, though quickly moved on. "While that encounter with Professor Karkaroff was less than pleasant, it is far from unfamiliar to me. Igor and I have a past. A past I would rather forget about, him, on the other hand, not so much. My advise to you is stay out of his way. I am under the impression he has his eye set on you."

"Why would he-"

"Goodnight, Miss Dumbledore." And with that Snape returned to his quarters for the evening, Aria's questions remaining unanswered.

What was Karkaroff up to that concerned her of all people?

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel​ @lizlil​

[ditttiii]

Enchanted To Meet You || 03.

SERIES MASTER-LIST (NEXT CHAPTER)

This chapter:- no warnings except teeth rotting fluff~

Summary: No one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates, for that matter. Humans don't have soulmates, but shapeshifters do. What are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren't even human.

BTS is on a hiatus and ARMY thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. You believe that too, at least you did, until you realised that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as Hybrids because apparently you all are soulmates.

SOULMATE AU // HYBRID AU // IDOL AU  

banner by: @thebannershop​

You slam shut the door to your apartment behind you with the heel of your shoe, your hands preoccupied with holding a basket and supplies that you had bought on your way home. The basket was currently housing your new pet. The top of it perforated to let the air in, but still closed enough to make sure that your bunny couldn't just hop out and run away. While you were surprised by how calm and friendly he seemed after barely knowing you for an hour, you still weren't about to risk yourself a runaway bunny.

You put the basket down on your center table before you move to the kitchen to store away your supplies. You need to sort your head and home before you open them both to another being. And so for the next 30 minutes, you think back to all your experiences as a previous rabbit owner and turn your house into a rabbit friendly abode. You hide all the sharp things away in cupboards and tape the old jagged edges of your bed to make sure that your new roommate doesn't accidentally cut himself while jumping over. Sooner or later, you know it was going to happen. 

You stop once you are done "bunny-proofing" the house and take a look around. You try to find any more potential injury-inducing spots and breathe out a relieved sigh once you can't find any. 

Right! Time to get the little baby out now, you think, but you don't make any move to go to the basket. Your hands, for some reason, are clammy and uncomfortably wet. Your pulse is higher than usual. All of these textbook signs of nervousness, you know. 

'This is ridiculous. Why do I feel nervous about having a bunny? I should be excited, dammit!' You think to yourself as you huff out a breath and plop your body on the sofa. You know you should open the basket and let the bunny out. He probably feels stuffed sitting in there. But for some reason, you have this feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that's making you feel like you are missing something. 

'But what?' you question yourself. You furrow your brows and bury your hands in your hair. Pulling at the strands in frustration, you groan out loud. You feel confused, anxious—scared, and you don't understand why. And that was driving you up the wall. 

'And what was that little episode earlier?' A voice inside your head questions and you sink further into your couch. You still don't understand why you almost fainted like that. 

'And what was that pain?' You shift your hands and wrap them around yourself. You had to go to the doctors to get checked too. There was no way in hell that you were going to ignore something like that. As a med-student, you knew better by now. You look up to the box as you hear your bunny scratching at the inside of it. 'I hope he doesn't scratch me like my last one did,' you muse to yourself as you stand and move closer to the basket. 

Once you reach it, you quickly pick up the basket and transfer it to your couch. Just in case your bunny has lost its unexplainable affection for you. Then you settle down beside it and carefully open the lid of the basket, gently, as to not startle the little bunny. No sooner had you opened the lid than he poked his head out, staring at you.

You stop and look at him as he looks at you, the look in his eyes something that you could only describe as overtly curious. You keep your eyes locked onto him as he pushes his head even further out the basket, his front paws making an appearance as he stands and puts them on the edge of it. You slowly inch back a little, knowing from your experience, that it was a sign that he was going to jump out. However, to your growing surprise, he does no such thing. He continues to stand there, with his two front paws on the edge of the basket, his head hovering between them as he keeps looking back at you, making no move to jump out. His ears, soft and white with the tips covered with faint soft brown fur, stand straight, twitching now and then. 

You move closer, fascinated by how different he was than what you had been expecting. And as if reading your actions as a sign to come closer, he pushes his head out further—closer to you. The edge of the basket straining, bending under his weight as he pushes all his body weight on it to push himself closer. 

You gasp as he reaches further than you had expected him to, still not jumping out, and you go cross-eyed as you try to keep your eyes on him. Before you can push yourself back, he closes the last few inches between your faces and nuzzles his nose below your lower lip. You stay frozen as you feel tiny huffs of warm breath hit your sensitive skin. His soft, long white whiskers tickle your lips and you try to scoot back a little, in case you end up sneezing on the poor bunny but before you can scoot back more than an inch, he hops out. 

You squeal like a teenage girl and almost topple off of the couch, as you try to save your face from the very sharp claws of your bunny. 'Need to get them cut or at least filed,' you think and watch as your bunny uses the distraction to make himself comfortable on your lap. Curling his paws under him until you could no longer see them and putting his head on your thigh, he nuzzles the covered skin of your jean-clad thigh. 

You sigh as you watch him get comfortable before a smile breaks out on your face. He was weirdly affectionate towards you, and you don't understand why that is but you would be lying if you said that you didn't like it. A laugh breaks out of you as you hear your bunny huff and scratch at your jeans, probably not very fond of the material. But you also weren't going bare around him until you could get his nails filed, past experiences had taught you that it would be a very bad idea.

And so you spend the next hour lounging on your couch, petting your new bunny. His fur feels like silk as you run your hands through it. Every now and then he would also raise his head and nudge your fingers, stroking and pressing his face into them almost as if he was kissing them. You coo and bring him up to your chest, settling him there, before sprawling on the couch comfortably and turning on your TV. You continue caressing him as you mindlessly watch and surf through channels, losing track of time.

It's only a couple of hours later when the sun has gone down and your apartment is dark—the living room illuminated only by the light from the television, that you realise how long you have been acting like a couch potato. Your bunny is asleep, still very much on top of you, soft purrs that almost sound like snores reaching your ears. You resist the urge to hug him close and instead softly pick him up, careful to not wake him before you place him back on the couch, and silently make your way to the kitchen to get your dinner started. 

You dice a carrot and a cucumber before mixing them both with some herbs you had got on your way, making a salad of sorts. You need to go shopping soon to get veggies that would suit his diet more on a daily basis, but for tonight it would do. 

Done with his meal, you opt for instant ramen for yourself, too tired after the long day to bother with anything more nutritious. Once you have your ramen served, you pick up both bowls and make your way back to the living room, switching on the lights with a hit of your elbow.

"Upsie daisy bugzayy~" you call out as you place the bowls on the center-table, and plant yourself right back onto the couch. 

"Come on you lazy butt, time to eat!" You call out again and run your hands softly over his ears, playing with them. "I should give you a name, eh?" 

At that, he finally looks up, his eyes glitter with interest, or so you assume, before he bobs his head, almost as if he's nodding?

‘You really should go to the doctors to get checked, something is probably wrong with you if you think your rabbit is nodding and understanding your language,’ some part of your brain whispers and you can’t help but agree. You have been acting a bit spazzy all day and it would probably be a good idea to get checked, maybe you should schedule a psychologist visit too.

"Alright big guy, how about Bugz?" you suggest but the way his bunny ears immediately drop at hearing that, makes you retract your suggestion. 

"Alright, that's fine. No Bugz, uhh" you pause before continuing "okay how about Kookie?" you throw out, it wasn't exactly a secret how much you loved K-pop. You are sure if your classmates knew you had a new pet, they would assume that you'd name it after some K-pop singer and they wouldn't be wrong, and if the sudden rise of your bunnies ears is any indication, he loves the name too. You giggle as he does a happy hop before you push his food bowl closer to him. With one last glance his way, seeing him happily munch away at his dinner, you at last tuck into yours.  

A/N: Finallyy! This is roughly 2k words of nothing but bunny kookiexOC interaction and *phew* I am so glad it’s done. Scene building is my forte, interactions? not so much. But I’m pretty happy with how it turned out :) 

Hope you all have been enjoying the frequent uploads! I know how much quarantine sucks and so I’ve been trying really hard to push out updates and requests as fast as I can. 

If you like my work please drop a like. Feedback is also VERY much appreciated- whether as a comment or ask. The poll is still open. And for anyone who hasn’t voted–Go Vote for whoever you want me to introduce next!

Thank-you so much for taking the time to read my work. I also really reallyyy appreciate all the people who have left comments or asks or re-blogs with their feedback :’) I would not be writing this story rn if it wasn’t for the support that it receives. So Thank you and I love you!

[nerdythebard]

#13: Doctor Strange [Marvel]

By the Eternal Vishanti, I welcome you back!

Today we're making the Sorcerer Supreme of the Marvel Universe-616, Doctor Strange. This spell-slinging master of the mystic arts has been my favourite superhero for quite some time now, and I'm always excited whenever we get something related to him. Now, just a quick note – this build is going to be based on the comic book version of Strange, not the MCU one. We're having real spells and incantations, not some thinly-veiled Clarke's Third Law. #LetMagicBeMagic.

Next Time: The Gods call for us again. The Dragon King blesses us with his presence.

Now then, let's examine what we need to become the mightiest mystic of the Multiverse:

Arcane Artillery: Doctor Strange holds enough mystic knowledge to give Mind Flayers an indigestion. What he doesn't know, he can look up in his Sanctum Sanctorum's library. We need to be prepared to have a spell for almost any situation.

Mystic Fists of Fury: Before opening his Third Eye fully, Strange spent some time in Kamar-Taj under the tutelage of the Ancient One, practising his combat skills in case he was ever in a situation where magic would fail him.

The Old Favourites: Whatever incarnation of the character we encounter, Doctor Strange is almost always certain to have the following items on him: the Eye of Agamotto, the Cloak of Levitation, and occasionally the Book of the Vishanti. After the Last Days of Magic event, Strange found a likeness for weapons like shortswords, staffs, and axes.

---

Stephen Strange was an ordinary human, but due to the years of exposure to otherworldly mystic forces, his biology changed to not accept regular human food anymore. This sounds like a good excuse to make him Variant Human. We get a +1 to two abilities of our choice (Intelligence and Constitution), we know how to speak Common and one other language of our choice, we get to pick one skill to be proficient in (Investigation), and we get to pick a feat. The Medic feat gives us a +1 to Wisdom, proficiency with the Medicine skill, and the ability to tend to our party members' wounds on short rests (Medicine check [DC 15], if successful - the player can use the maximum value of their Hit Dice to regain Hit Points).

Although he started as a simple physician, the turning point of Strange's life was his training in Kamar-Taj. He gained skills and knowledge, vast enough to call himself a Sage. From this background, we gain proficiency in Arcana and History, we learn two more languages, and we gain the Researcher feature; when we're to recall a piece of lore, and we don't know it, we usually can figure out where to find the information (be it a library, a temple, or somebody's private collection).

ABILITY SCORES

Intelligence is our primary stat, serving as our casting ability and our pride. Next is Constitution, all casters need to keep it high. We follow that up with Wisdom, lessons of the Ancient One granted us both humility and broadened our horizons.

Dexterity is a little low, but we'll take care of that later. Charisma is next, even after his training was complete Stephen can be a bit of a jerk and refusing to hear anyone but himself. Finally, we'll dump Strength.

CLASS

Assigning a D&D class to Doctor Strange was a very (and I mean very) difficult task. Starting off, I had to disregard his Sorcerer Supreme title, because in D&D sorcerers are born with the ability to wield magic. Strange had to study and practice to get his powers, so that makes him a Wizard. Kamar-Taj is also dedicated to studying the teachings of the Vishanti, a trinity of god-like beings who give the Sorcerer Supreme their powers, so that would make Strange a Cleric. Finally, he also draws powers from deals he made with otherworldly entities (such as Cyttorak, the Faltine, Munnopor, Watoomb, sometimes even Dormammu himself), which screams 'Warlock', except there's no way to incorporate multiple patrons without homebrewing. It wasn't easy, but I am satisfied with what I've created. Hopefully, you'll be, too.

Level 1 - Monk: We start just as Strange started, by honing our body first. Monks get the d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with simple weapons and shortswords, and proficiency in one set of artisan's tools or a musical instrument (I'd go with alchemist's supplies). Our saving throws are Strength and Dexterity, and we get to pick two class skills (Insight and Religion).

Monks start with Unarmoured Defence. When we're not wearing armour, or holding a shield, our AC equals [10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Wisdom modifier]. We also get Martial Arts, which gives our unarmed strikes some more power. We can now use Dexterity instead of Strength for our unarmed strikes attack and damage rolls, we replace our Strength modifier with a d4 for damage of our unarmed strikes, and if we use the unarmed strike (or a monk weapon) on our turn as an Attack, we can use a bonus action to make an extra unarmed strike.

Level 2 - Monk: We get more mobile with Unarmoured Movement. Our ground speed increases by 10 feet if we're not wearing armour or holding a shield.

We also get access to the Monk's signature feature, the Ki energy. We start with 2 Ki Points, which we can spend on the following abilities:

Flurry of Blows: Spending 1 Ki Point after making an attack, lets us make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action;

Patient Defence: Spending 1 Ki Point lets us take a Dodge action as a bonus action on our turn;

Step of the Wind: Spending 1 Ki Point doubles our jump distance for the turn, and we can take the Dash or Disengage actions as a bonus action.

Level 3 - Wizard: We finally begin our study of spells and arcane arts.

Unfortunately, multiclassing into Wizard does not give us any additional benefits. We do, however, get Arcane Recovery. Once per day, during a short rest, we can choose a number of expended spell slots and refill them. The number must be equal to half of our Wizard level (rounded up), and the recovered spell slots cannot be 6th-level or higher.

Wizards also start with Spellcasting at their 1st level, and they know both cantrips and ritual spells. Our spellcasting ability is Intelligence, but unlike many other casting classes we do not get a full access to our spell list. Instead, we start with six spells in our spellbook and get two more each time we level up. Then, we can only prepare and use [Our Intelligence modifier + our Wizard level] spells at once. Describing all of those spells we pick would make this post over a mile long, and I've made that mistake with Sypha. To not make this a chore for you guys, I decided that from now on whenever I make a Wizard (or, a build where Wizard is a majority), I will simply list the spells we pick without descriptions. Let's be honest, if not here, you'll certainly find those in a different build. Alright, let's begin! First, we get to pick three cantrips:

Fire Bolt

Mage Hand

Minor Illusion

When it comes to our starting spells, let's take these six. Remember, we can only prepare a certain number, and we start with only two 1st-level spell slots.

Alarm

Detect Magic

Fog Cloud (to represent the Mists of Munnopor from the comics)

Shield (of the Seraphim)

Magic Missile (as a stand-in for the Daggers of Daveroth)

Sleep

Level 4 - Wizard: We get to pick our subclass, our Arcane Tradition. For Strange, who can be any combination of Wizard, Cleric, and Warlock, the best choice is to pick Theurgy from 2017 Unearthed Arcana. Theurgists are religious magic-users, who focus more on the arcane research rather than prayer and worship.

With Divine Inspiration, we get to select a Cleric Domain and a deity we wish to follow. Ask your DM if it's possible for you to worship three gods as a collective, a magical triumvirate. For your own Vishanti I suggest Mystra, Mother of All Magic, Azuth, the Lord of Spells, and Savras, the All-Seeing. For a Wizard, I'd say there's no better choice than Knowledge Domain.

We also get Arcane Initiate, which lets us replace spells we learn as we level up with the cleric spells of our chosen domain. What's cool about that feature is, other wizards cannot copy those spells from our spellbook. If we get all of our chosen domain's spells, we can keep replacing spells we learn with spells from the Cleric spell list.

Finally, we gain the Cleric's unique skill - Channel Divinity - except in our case it becomes Channel Arcana. We start with two effects: Divine Arcana and the effect granted by the chosen domain. Unlike Clerics, we can use the Channel Arcana once per short or long rest.

Divine Arcana lets us use a bonus action to control the flow of magic in the area. The next spell we cast gets a +2 to its attack roll or saving throw DC.

Knowledge of the Ages grants us quick insight into a skill we're not familiar with. For the next 10 minutes, we're proficient with one tool set of our choice or proficient in one skill we choose.

We gain one more 1st-level spell slot, and for this level's two spells let's get Feather Fall, and Command from the domain list.

Level 5 - Wizard: At this level we unlock 2nd-level spell slots, and we can access 2nd-level spells. Let's get Hold Person (for Strange's famous Crimson Bands of Cyttorak) and Icingdeath's Frost from 2021 Unearthed Arcana: Draconic Options (for the Icy Tendrils of Ikthalon).

Level 6 - Wizard: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement! As is the rule of thumb with all Wizards, boosting our Intelligence is a priority. That's what we shall put the 2 points into.

For this level's spells, we get another cantrip (Light), and let's take Locate Object and Mirror Image (to represent the Images of Ikonn).

Level 7 - Wizard: We unlock 3rd-level spell slots. Let's get Dispel Magic, and we can get Fly to finally get a representation for our Cloak of Levitation.

Level 8 - Wizard: We get our first subclass upgrade. Arcane Acolyte grants us the 1st-level benefits of our chosen domain. For Knowledge domain, it's Blessings of Knowledge; we learn two languages of our choice and get proficiency in two skills... which we pretty much are proficient in already. To not waste a feature, ask your DM if you can double your proficiency bonus for those two skills instead. If you get a 'yes', pick Arcana and Insight.

For this level's spells, let's get Counterspell and Magic Circle.

Level 9 - Wizard: From here, we get access to 4th-level spell slots. Banishment and Dimension Door seems like exactly what we need to keep enemies at bay and have fun with portals.

Level 10 - Wizard: Halfway through the build, and we get an ASI. Let's cap our Intelligence at 20, with those two points.

For this level's spells, let's grab Arcane Eye and turn back a little and get Speak with Dead from our domain list, as it is one of few spells not available to Wizards.

Level 11 - Wizard: We get access to 5th-level spells. With Contact Other Plane and Legend Lore, we become an even bigger magical know-it-all to aid our party.

Level 12 - Wizard: For our subclass upgrade, we get Arcane Priest, which grants us the Knowledge Domain's 6th-level benefit - Channel Divinity: Read Thoughts. One creature within 60 feet of us must make a Wisdom saving throw, or grant us access to its surface thoughts (emotions and active thoughts, no deep secrets or hidden motives) for 1 minute. During that time, we can also use our action to cast the Suggestion spell on the target; they fail their saving throw automatically.

We also get our final cantrip for this build (Sword Burst), and we get two more 5th-level spells: Planar Binding and Wall of Force.

Level 13 - Wizard: We unlock 6th-level spells. With Globe of Invulnerability and True Seeing, we upgrade our Shield of the Seraphim and give our Eye of Agamotto even more mystic abilities (as it should have had!)

Level 14 - Wizard: Time for another ASI! Let's put one point into Constitution for better HP chance, and one into Dexterity.

Arcane Gate finally gives us a proper yellow sparkly portal thingy, and let's get Chain Lightning for some much needed offensive capabilities.

Level 15 - Wizard: We're getting into 7th-level spells at this level. Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion allows us to recreate our very own Sanctum Sanctorum, and with Project Image we can get Strange's Astral Projection.

Level 16 - Wizard: At this level, we get our final subclass upgrade (and we cross the 100 HP mark, yay!). Arcane High Priest grants us the Knowledge Domain's 17th-level benefits. Visions of the Past lets us spend at least 1 minute of meditation to receive information about a specific object we're holding, or our immediate surroundings:

Object Reading - we learn of the object's previous owner. We know how the person came into contact with the object, how they lost it, and a significant even in their life tied to the object.

Area Reading - we see the events that transpired in the specific location (up to 50-foot cube), going back a number of days equal to our Wisdom modifier.

For this level's spells, let's get Plane Shift and Teleport to double-down on Strange's interdimensional travels.

Level 17 - Wizard: Time for 8th-level spells.

Illusory Dragon is a nice nod to the great "Doctor Strange and the Sorcerers Supreme" series (go check it out, it's awesome!), and Maze is another good banishment-type spell to have. Just don't use it on minotaurs.

Level 18 - Wizard: For our final ASI, let's put two points into Dexterity, leaving us unfortunately with an odd number (hopefully, you'll manage to find some ability-increasing item or benefit in your adventure).

For this level's spells, let's grab Power Word: Stun and Demiplane is a good combo to immobilize a foe and send it to the Shadow Realm Mirror Dimension.

Level 19 - Wizard: We unlock the pinnacle of D&D arcane, the 9th-level spells... that is, unless your DM introduces High Magic, which is... whew, a league of its own.

Time Stop and Foresight give us those Time Stone abilities (for all you MCU degenerates. Yes, I know what I said, but Strange was given the Time Stone in his new run, so I did not lie!)

Level 20 - Wizard: Our capstone is Wizard 18, which gives us the Spell Mastery feature. We get to choose one 1st-level spell and one 2nd-level spell from our spellbook and make them our signature moves; we can now cast them at will, without expending a spell slot. Shield and Hold Person seems like a good choice here.

For our final spells of this build, we cannot go without Astral Projection, and let's get Imprisonment a chance.

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And there we go! Doctor Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts. Let's see what we've created:

First of all, we're the epitome of Wizard, we're a great utility caster and a pretty good support, with Internet-like capability of finding information. We're don't have a lot of damage-dealing abilities, like Sypha did, but remember - Wizards also get spell by finding them in the world and copying them in their spellbook. This here is only what we get automatically. Go and roam the world in search for that Fireball!

We have AC of 14, but with Shield (and later making it pretty much permanent) it can get up to 19, and we have 130 Hit Points on average. Our speed is also a little better, with 40 feet of movement (plus flying thanks to the Fly spell).

Unfortunately, our Charisma and Wisdom are not great, so those saving throws might be difficult. Our Strength is also not the greatest, so we're pretty much forced to fight with magic.

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And that is it! Next time, we return to SMITE for a few builds, as I absorbs information about Fire Emblem: Three Heroes. Also, the game devs just released a teaser for Morgana le Fay, and my first reaction was 'Hexblade Warlock'. Do you agree?

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and your day is going great. I'll see you next time!

- Nerdy out!