#when I had jack I always said if he even hesitated to eat a meal we would have gone running to the ER vet

[sequinsmile-x]

Fourth - Chapter 3 - One Month Old

Emily and Aaron get through the newborn stage, also known as the 'fourth trimester', together.

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so much for the love on this so far, it means a the world as always!

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: List of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One thing that had taken Emily by surprise about having a baby was how ravenous she’d be whenever she fed him. 

It’s how she finds herself in the pantry, stuffing cookies into her mouth, just minutes before she is due to leave for her and Aaron’s anniversary dinner. He’d gently asked if she wanted to go out on to celebrate their anniversary just a week ago. She’d hesitated, not because she didn’t want to but because she’d never left Lucas alone for longer than just a few minutes whenever she was in the shower. The idea of being out, even only for a couple of hours, made her skin itch. She’d said yes in the end, wanting to spend some time with her husband and just be Emily for a while, but now she was wearing make up and a nice dress for the first time in a month she felt unsure. She takes another cookie out of the sleeve and sneers at it before she stuffs it in her mouth. 

“Fucking Oreos,” she grumbles as she puts the packet back on the shelf, “I hate Oreos.” 

It had been two weeks since Lucas’s doctor told them the newborn was intolerant to dairy and that it was best for Emily to cut it out of her diet if she wanted to continue nursing him. She’d of course followed the advice, seeking out meals and snacks she could still eat whilst cutting out dairy overnight. The guilt she felt when Lucas was more settled almost immediately still felt like it was fresh even now. The thought that she had been causing her baby discomfort, even unknowingly, almost too much to bear. 

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” 

She turns and looks at her husband, frowning when she sees his arms are empty, “Where’s Luke?”

He smiles as he steps further into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, “Jess has him.” 

Jessica had immediately offered to watch the boys before Aaron had even finished telling her his plans for their anniversary, a conversation Emily later found out had happened before he’d even broached the subject with her. It made her feel more comfortable with the idea of going out because Aaron always spoke about how integral she’d been in Jack’s early life, a flash of shame in his eyes when he told her that Jessica had been better at settling his infant son than he had. 

“Okay,” she says, wiping her hands together to shake off the remaining cookie crumbs, “We should get going,” she looks down at herself, scrunching her nose up as she tries to readjust the way her dress was laying, the material gathering around her stomach in a way she hates. “Do I look okay?” 

When she looks up he’s standing much closer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips ghosting against hers before he pulls back, “You look beautiful.”

He places his hand on her back and guides her to the living room, his touch firmer when they spot Jessica and Lucas, the baby’s cheek against her shoulder as she pats his back.

“Look Lukey,” Jessica says, smiling at them, “Look how good Mommy and Daddy look.” 

Emily’s hands form fists at her sides, short nails digging blunt crescent moons into her palms, so she stops herself from reaching out and grabbing her son from Jessica’s arms. She tries to remind herself that she’s done harder things than this. She’s fought off monsters and literally stood toe to toe with death, but right now in this moment she can’t think of anything more difficult than walking away from her son for even just a couple of hours. 

“I just fed him,” she says, her eyes still on Lucas even though she’s talking to Jessica, “If he gets hungry again-”

“There’s milk in the fridge, labelled by the day you pumped,” Jessica says kindly, and when Emily looks up at her the gentle smile on her face reminds her they’d already gone through this since Jessica arrived. Twice. “And he’ll only fall asleep if you sway with him in your arms or on the porch swing.” 

Emily clears her throat, and Aaron’s hand ghosting over her lower back does nothing to relieve her embarrassment, her cheeks burning pink with it, “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about at all,” Jessica assures her, her kindness never wavering, “You should have seen what Haley was like the first time she left Jack,” her smile turns slightly wistful, “She left me a four page list of instructions. Front and back.” 

“And that was after I helped her slim it down,” Aaron says from beside her, his hand slipping from her back to her waist, tugging her into his side, “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Em.”

He was being so understanding it was almost pissing her off. Irritation, she knows he doesn’t deserve, aimed at his well meaning support thrumming under her skin. She was practically vibrating with it, tensing in his embrace, and she didn’t need to be good at her job to know it was because she was actually irritated with herself. She didn’t recognise who she was anymore, everything about who she was just a month ago stripped away and replaced with who she was now. It wasn’t a bad change, just new, and she was trying to get used to who she was now. How she’d be going forward with this tiny life she’d created out there in the world, no longer where she could keep him safe tucked up in her belly. 

She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Aaron any of this, worried that it would come across that it meant she loved Lucas more than she loved Jack no matter how far that was far from the truth, but Jack had been so much older when she stepped into that maternal role in his life. He’d been walking and talking and being apart from him, be it for work or her social life, had always been part of the deal. Lucas had always been either inside of her, on her chest or close enough to touch. It was an adjustment and she’d get used to it. 

She hoped. 

“No,” she says, looking up at her husband, knowing the moment their eyes meet that he sees through her forced smile, “It’s our anniversary. We should go out for dinner.” 

He stares at her for a beat too long and then he nods, his arm around her shoulders now as he kisses her temple, “Okay, in that case, we should get going so we don’t miss our reservation.” 

She tries her best to hold it together as they say goodbye to the boys and Jessica, and if Aaron notices Emily wiping tears away as they climb into the car, she’s grateful he doesn’t bring attention to it.

___

She can’t stop checking her phone. 

Every time the screen switches off she presses it again, the photo she has of her sons set as her wallpaper as much of a reassurance as it is a hindrance, a reminder of what she’s left at home. She keeps switching between staring at her phone and at the menu in front of her. She isn’t taking any of it in, the words on paper in front of her not registering at all. 

“Em, are you okay?” 

She looks up at her husband, smiling tightly as their eyes meet, her cheeks warm as she swallows back guilt, the ever present feeling that she wasn’t being a good mom or wife trying to force itself up her throat. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, hating how her voice shakes, her jaw tight as she tries to hold back the tears she would have easily fought a year ago, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He smiles at her so kindly it makes the tears fall past her lashline and she shakes her head at herself, “God-fucking damn it.”

Aaron shifts closer to her, dragging his chair along with him as he sits next to her, his arm around her shoulder as he pulls her in, “Sweetheart,” he says, kissing her temple, hooking his finger under her chin as he encourages her to look at him, “Nothing is wrong with you. You had a baby a month ago and this is the first time you’ve spent any time away from him. This is normal.”

She chokes on a laugh, automatically leaning into his hand as he cups her cheek and wipes her tears away, “It doesn’t feel normal.” 

He smiles and leans forward, resting his forehead against hers for a second, “I know it doesn’t,” he says, subtly shaking his head at the waiter as he approaches them, silently asking for another few minutes, “But I promise you it is. Do you trust me?” 

She nods, sniffing as she laughs again, “Yes. I do,” she says, leaning into his side, so emotionally wrung out she can’t even begin to think about being embarrassed for crying in a crowded restaurant, “I’ll go back to being your strong, kickass wife soon. I promise.”

He leans in and kisses her, “You already are, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, wiping another tear from her cheek, “Do you know what you want to eat yet?” 

She groans and shakes her head, “I need to figure out what I can eat.” 

He can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face, swallowing back his amusement that his usually observant wife, the woman who could tell when someone was hiding something with nothing more than a slight change in their expression, hadn’t paid any attention at all to the restaurant he’d brought her to. 

“Em, baby, this is a vegan restaurant. You can eat whatever you want.” 

Her eyes go wide and she looks between him and the menu, the different options finally registering, and she feels overwhelming love wash over her. He loved her and their children in such a quiet, unassuming, way sometimes that it took her by surprise, his thoughtfulness of simply bringing her somewhere to eat where she had as much choice as she could enough to make tears gather in her eyes again.

“Aaron…” 

“And there aren’t any Oreo based desserts,” he says, winking at her, “I checked the menu online to make sure.” 

She smiles and kisses him, her hand curling around the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I love you,” she says, kissing him again, “And as soon as the doctor signs me off you are getting so lucky,” her smile gets wider when he laughs, “You may have to remind me though. I’m so sleep-deprived I almost left my phone in the freezer this morning.” 

He laughs and kisses her cheek before he looks at the menu between them, not bothering to move his chair back to where it should be, more than content to sit next to her like this all night. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

-x-

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[restinthewest]

I tried tapering Hallow off of wet food and her chicken and rice mixture because I was worried about how complicated it was becoming just to get her to eat and lo and behold I can see her whole ass rib cage again.

She will only eat kibble without additions if I throw it in grass for her to forage, but this isn’t workable for me to do for every meal. She won’t take kibble as training rewards. I feel badly that she’s so thin but I may have to do this every so often so that she stays motivated to eat kibble with her food additions because she will start getting picky about those over time as well.

[anothersylvia]

I’m Not Afraid To Cross Some Lines .... (Jack Harlow Fanfic)

DISCLAIMERS : this is a full/Longer fanfic and will be divided into parts . The concept is of Jack Harlow and a Singer not being able to keep their relationship as artists professional. Warning !! there is sexual content and such aswell as language so ..... but yea enjoy :) 

“Shut up , I’m so done with you” 

Your Zoom call with Jack ran for more than hour already with him cracking jokes and pulling several fits of laughter from you on the other end. Both you and Jack Harlow were artists signed to Generation Now and had successful budding careers and your label execs were eager to get you and him to join forces and collaborate. You and Jack always had great chemistry from the start and you admired his talent and drive but you were initially hesitant about collaborating because of the dating rumors it would generate. A lot of the time you would attend the same events and you had a lot of the same friends and fans thought you would make a cute couple based off of some red carpet and social media interactions , all this put you in an uncomfortable position not only cause you hated having people all up in your business but mainly because you were in a relationship. Your boyfriend was not in the industry and you loved having him in your life to keep you grounded. The relationship offered you the space to switch off from life in the spotlight however for your boyfriend it was difficult to share so much of you with the world and have people on the internet question why you would want to be with him. 

“So where’s your man at ?” Jack questioned. 

“He went for a drive , he’s gonna bring back something to eat “ 

“How wholesome for you” His comment had a sarcastic undertone 

“Probably not as wholesome as having some random person suck my dick every other evening “ You shot back

“Now when were you going to tell me about your dick y/n” 

“I’d rather put it in your mouth than tell you about it , know you’d love that” 

“I would” 

Your boyfriend walked in on the episode of laughter your conversation with Jack launched you into. “Hey babe” you acknowledged him still grinning. He was pleased to see you smiling but had a slight annoyance in his face when he spotted Jack in a hoodie on your laptop screen. 

“Yo Jack “ Your boyfriend brought himself to acknowledge him right after placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Yo ..” was all Jack said. 

Sensing the awkward atmosphere you spoke. “So Jack we about to kick it over here , Kyle brought home some take out. This was real fun and I can’t wait for us to get this track together”. 

“Of course ! yall have yourselves a good night “ Jack offered you a sincere smile and disconnected from the call. 

Closing your laptop you were now able to plant an endearing kiss on Kyle’s lips. “You enjoy your drive ?” You asked eagerly digging into the bag of warm take out and pulling out a fry. 

“So you and him working on something ?” Kyle skipped over your question. Your chewing slowed down and you gave Kyle a good side eye before responding. 

“I’m sorry but did you just skip over my question to ask me about Jack?”

“Sorry I just ..- it looked interesting my bad”. 

“Yes we were just running some ideas by each other , they want me on Jack’s new album “ You confirmed sounding less upset. With that you proceeded to eat your meals in silence and spent the night curled up on the couch. You weren’t all the way present because you kept playing back parts of your call with Jack and thinking of ideas for your new song. You had to admit you were excited about the collaboration , but that’s not something you were going to share with Kyle in this very moment. You were able to contain the excitement you were feeling from your boyfriend for the weeks to come till your studio session with Jack. 

You always liked to be comfortable when recording and opted for a simple outfit. Mom jeans were your go to and you paired them with white converse sneakers and a crop top. With a light beat and some lipgloss you threw on a bucket hat and drove yourself over to the studio. 

The session got off to quite the start when you walked in on Jack receiving oral on the studio sofa. 

“Jesus Christ !” you exclaimed dramatically shielding your face while Jack frantically tucked his penis back into his sweatpants and the girl pulled her top back up and got on her feet. 

“Yo y/n I -” 

“Don’t need the details “ You cut him short sensing he was about to explain something you knew you would not be able to unhear. You and the girl Jack was with had an awkward eye contact moment before she gave Jack a look and walked out. The moment she was gone you and Jack burst out laughing and cackling. 

“You are one sick motherfucker you know that “ You playfully shoved his shoulder before occupying a seat by the sound and engineering board. The two of you shared light conversation until the producers you would be working with arrived and the session could truly kick off. 

You were laying down some really good work and chopping it up real good for the next few hours. The energy in the studio was super laid back even though Jack was very serious about his work. That was something you understood well being an artist yourself and so your exchanges and chemistry were genuine and did not feel forced. You and Jack would bounce ideas off of each other with ease , which surprised you considering your sound was known for being very girl next door , vulnerable and sensual  and Jack’s sound leaned more towards having a good time and then there was the obvious difference in him being a rapper and you being a singer, but in that moment your worlds met and complimented each other well. Jack would sit back with stars in his eyes when hearing you vocalize and give mini performances , you exchanged some personal stories from your pasts and Jack’s best friend and photographer was on stand by to capture all these little moments as they happened. 

“So how’s Kevin ?” Jack teased picking a slice of pizza from one of the boxes that had just been delivered. 

“His name is Kyle , Jack” You shot back taking the slice from his hand before he could get a bite and digging in. Jack licked his lips as he watched you devour his slice of pizza. 

“Maybe I deserve that” He reached for another slice. 

As the time started getting closer to wrapping up for the day you felt a bit sad. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun recording and writing music with people around. You always felt most in your element when alone and writing about some of your saddest and vulnerable moments so to have a change of pace that involved fun lyrics and fun company acted well on your spirits. It was all thanks to Jack and his energy , it made you wish you had spent more time with him sooner. You loved how his mind worked , how he articulated his thoughts and ideas , his ease , confidence and humility. 

“You need a ride home?” Jack offered as the producers got their things together 

“I drove here I’ll be good” 

“Me and the guys are hitting the strip club , wanna  pull through?” 

“Strip club?” You arched a brow surprised Jack would think to invite you 

“Work hard , play hard “ he smirked offering you his hand. 

you gave his hand a weary look before biting your bottom lip and accepting his offer. Fuck being a public figure , fuck the fact that you were in some jeans and sneakers , you did not want your day with Jack to end. 

The strip club was even more fun than the studio session. You and Jack had settled in a more secluded section of the club while his mates moved around more freely. It was not your first time being in a strip club but something about the spontaneity of it all and having Jack there as your partner in crime made this particular visit more fun and intriguing. An array of colors from flashing led lights adorned the skin of the stripper currently on the pole at yours and Jack’s booth ,  her movement was super fluid and precise as she worked her way around the pole and You and Jack watched in admiration sitting next to one another. Your eyes would occasionally drift to your side to look at Jack. There was a change of song that prompted the stripper to get down from the pole and onto Jacks lap serving up all kinds of sensual and erotic movements and dances all while letting him feel her up. The woman was wearing nothing but her heels and neon pink thong with jewelry. As she went on you tried to distract yourself and pulled out your phone only to have the dancer make a way towards you after Jack had whispered to her to show you a good time. 

For the most part you were into it but when you looked over at Jack to see how amused he was you decided to turn things up a notch. The dancer was straddling you and you effortlessly initiated a kiss while caressing her exposed ass cheeks and moaning into her mouth. Amusement turned into arousal  as Jack adjusted in his seat and eyed the scene hungrily. His lust was evident but he still maintained a composure that was so attractive to you. 

“I could risk it all for you baby but I gotta job to do ?” The dancer whispered onto your lips before getting up and letting the next dancer keep you and Jack entertained. Eventually it was time to head home but Jack was not comfortable letting you drive yourself home alone , having had a few drinks and not just being a woman but being a well known public figure , it just did not feel right to him. Arrangements were made for your car to be driven by someone in Jacks camp but he would be the one to personally drive you home. 

“What a fucking day” You gazed out the window of the moving car wishing you could just roll it down but knowing you did not want to be spotted at this hour alone in a car with Jack Harlow.  “Haven’t let go like that in a long time “  you admitted somberly drawing imaginary shapes on the cold surface of the car window with your fingertips. Your voice was now hoarse from all the singing and partying. Jack was about to respond till he observed that you had drifted into a deep sleep in the passenger seat. 

The next morning you awoke to your boyfriend bringing you breakfast up to your room. You still had memory of the previous day’s events but getting home and getting in bed was a blur for you. 

“I was worried when I didn’t hear from you yesterday “ Kyle joined you on your bed. 

“Yeah it was a long day “ You avoided eye contact while accepting a cup of coffee from him. After enjoying your breakfast in bed with Kyle you left him in the bed to go shower. Upon your return you noticed Kyle was no longer laid up and relaxed as you had left him instead he sat on the edge of the bed , phone in hand. His body language was tense and signaled to you that something was wrong. 

“You okay?” You furrowed your brows in concern , your towel still wrapped around your body. 

“So I’m worried about not hearing from you yesterday but I stop myself from calling because I want you to have your space but you’re out having fun with your new buddy Jack Harlow”. He rotated the phone to face your direction revealing he was looking at pictures of the stripper kissing you while Jack watched. Your blood began to boil because you thought your privacy at that club was safe but clearly it wasn’t. This was not only bad because of Kyle’s reaction but you knew this meant it was spreading all over social media and sparking a string of stories around what your relationship with Jack was. 

“I see how this is bad , I don’t wanna take anything away from you by saying it’s not what you think because if roles were reversed I’d feel how you must be feeling right now and Kyle I love you , I really do but I’ve fucked up , I’m willing to admit that “ You stayed standing across the room , afraid to get close to him. 

“Did you fuck him?” Kyle’s jaw clenched at the question. 

“No , we’ve never even come close to that , we were just letting off steam at the club and that little moment happened , but there’s nothing more to the story , you have to believe me”

The situation was made worse by Jack’s caller ID appearing on your screen visible to Kyle he reached for it and shot you a look that caused you to shudder. 

“Should I leave so you can answer your man’s call ?” 

“Don’t be like that ?” 

“I’m going to leave before I say something I can’t take back” Kyle handed you your ringing phone and stormed off. You were left to decide whether or not you’d pick up. Moments after it stopped ringing a text came through. 

“Hey Y/n , I was calling to see if you are good after last night but looks like you’re busy. Just hit me so I know you’re okay”. 

You tossed your phone onto your bed and threw yourself onto it as well facedown ready to scream into a pillow. 

PART TWO :

 https://anothersylvia.tumblr.com/post/679521302077489152/im-not-afraid-to-cross-some-lines-jack-harlow

[will-on-the-internet]

Festive Delights | Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Hotch has always loved Christmas, and while wrapping up presents for your various loved ones, he finally explains why, and you might just fall in love a little more.

Word Count:

Genre: Christmas, Festive, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: If you don't like Christmas then this piece might not be for you! Also drinking, sharp things!

A/N: This is a request for @gay-prentiss! Thank you for requesting Nat, and I hope you love it. Requests ARE open so be sure to send one through my ask box if you want me to write something, open to all!

PLEASE INTERACT FOR MORE AARON HOTCHNER FICS

Christmas has always been Aaron’s favourite holiday. Even as a small child with a tyrannical father and a mother who was often absent, Aaron longed for Christmas morning, when his dysfunctional family would act as normal as possible, sitting near the Christmas tree to rip open presents, eating a massive meal for lunch and taking part in carol singing at the local church. Christmas, and December as a whole, was the only month that his parents made an effort to behave around Aaron and Shaun. And even Aaron grew up and went to boarding school, he always looked forward the Christmas, because it meant seeing Shaun and watching the wondrous fascination all children have towards Christmas.

And now Hotch is older, a father himself to a small child, and even though the world did everything it could to rip away the joy that Aaron still clutched on to, he still enjoyed Christmas, especially now when there were no bickering parents around. This year though, this year Christmas was special because it was his first Christmas with you, the person he promised to share his life with only six months ago at a wedding in Rossi’s backyard.

To you, Christmas wasn’t a big deal. Sure, you’ll buy the presents, eat the food and sing some of the tunes, but you never truly went into the effort of decorating for Christmas or baking all the treats that Jack Hotchner longed for. But now it was different because suddenly, the lounge room had an eight-foot-tall Christmas tree sitting in the corner, adorned with handmade and bought ornaments, lengths of glittering tinsel and twinkling lights that shone against the glass of the windows in the room.

You knew how much Christmas meant to your Hotchner boys, especially after the death of Haley, and even though you weren’t used to all the decorations and traditions that came with Aaron and Jack, you could never say no when they suggested something new. So when Aaron dragged you along on a day of Christmas shopping for Jack and the team, you could only roll your eyes before he was helping you off the couch and pulling you out the door.

Aaron had a knack for buying gifts. He always downplayed it, said it was nothing, but you knew when he picked out gifts for his loved ones, he knew exactly what they’d want and what they’d love. He didn’t hesitate on buying Garcia a four-set of gaudy ceramic mugs he knew she’d love, even after the shop assistant stared at him like he was crazy, or when he dropped a good amount of money on an old hardcover manuscript for Reid that Hotch knew he’d been after for months but could never find.

And when the two of you finally came home from your shopping trip, arms laden with bags from various stores and legs exhausted from the walking (in your case because Aaron was very much used to being on his feet all day), suddenly there was wrapping to be done, with Christmas carols in the back and mulled wine to drink.

“And here I thought setting up the Christmas tree was the only big operation in the Hotchner Christmas traditions.” Aaron laughs from the kitchen, pulling two mugs from the cupboard (ones he called the “mulled wine Christmas mugs”) and shakes his head fondly.

“Oh trust me, this is nothing, when my mother shopped for my brother and I, she made it a full weekend event. No one was allowed into the formal living room because she invaded it with all her wrapping bits and various presents.” You chuckled at the idea of Susan Hotchner sitting on her grand sofa with wrapping paper and ribbons surrounding her, and though the image seemed odd for a woman who seemed so stern and unattached, at the same time you knew the memory meant a lot to Aaron. “Now though, I just try and do it on a day I don’t have Jack, means I don’t have to hide in my office “doing work” while I’m trying to wrap up his presents and keep him distracted with the Polar Express.” You nod, taking the cup of wine he handed you before turning to the task at hand.

“So, how shall we do this? Should we split it half and half? Or you take Jack’s presents and I do the team, and we do our respective families?” You watched Aaron ponder for a moment, and you fiddled with the record player, turning the music down slightly so it was mellow in the background.

“You do Jack and I’ll do the team, and then the rest can be done by whoever. Jack can read your writing, so it’d probably be best if you did his.” You smiled in agreement, dividing the presents together and picking up the wrapping paper you wanted to use for Jack. It was green and gold, with shiny penguins and red wreaths covering it. Aaron had picked it out especially for his son, because after he’d been to the aquarium with his school, Jack had come home obsessed with penguins. Hence the kids book filled with penguin facts that you were about to wrap for him.

The two of you sat quietly across from each other on the loungeroom floor, soft carpet against sweat pants covered legs and socked feet. It was peaceful, and for a while, you got lost in the repetitive sound of scissors against the paper, the cutting of tape and the noise of a ballpoint pen against Christmas card.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen someone ever put so much effort into making their Christmas perfect for those around them. I mean, I’m used to the food and the lights and the songs, but, our family never goes all out with the decorations everywhere, or presents and stockings.” Aaron listened closely, looking over at you as he placed another wrapped present underneath the tree. “Why do you do it, Aaron?”

Aaron didn’t answer for a while, and you nearly thought he hadn’t heard you. But then he shrugged and leaned against the front of the couch, legs spread out before him, gaze flicking between you and the tree.

“I guess, it’s partly because I’ve always wanted Christmas to be important, for people to enjoy it as much as I did as a kid, with Haley and Jack, and hopefully with you.” You feel your cheeks warm at that, and you take a break in the wrapping to move closer to him, his arm lazily wrapping around your shoulders to bring you in towards his body. “Christmas is a time for family, a time to be around loved ones and cherish what you have. And, since Shaun went to prison and Haley died, I think I’ve realised that even though I love Christmas for all the material things, I love it more because it’s the only time I feel like I’m not obligated to work. It just feels easier to take a break than it does at any other time of the year.” You nod in understanding, already knowing that your husband has issues with prioritising family over his job.

“Well, I think it’s lovely. Sure, it’s a little overwhelming for me because I’m not used to it, but I like seeing you like this.” Aaron’s eyebrow quirks up slightly as an answer to your statement, urging you to go on as you run a hand through his hair, which had grown abnormally long for the man. “You’re happier, more relaxed, you’re not running on a sense of urgency that seems to hang around you sometimes. Hell, you’ve barely looked at your work phone when it’s not a weekday, and you’ve chosen over and over to do things with Jack instead of going to your office to work on files. I’m not saying you’re a workaholic because I know you’re not, even if the team and Jessica disagrees. But it is nice to see you more, I dunno, in the moment when you’re home.” Hotch nods slowly, resting his head against your shoulder as he relaxes into your touch.

“Jack is really excited about this Christmas, you know? He’s apparently been talking about it at school, and Penelope told me that all he wanted to do at her house last week was make paper chains to decorate her living room.” You huff out a laugh at that, remembering the photo Penelope sent you of Jack being wrapped up in the paper chains, a cheeky grin on his face.

“He has been talkative about Santa recently, kept asking me if he could stay up on Christmas eve to catch the old fella.” Hotch grinned at that, shaking his head in fondness for his son.

“Oh god, can you imagine? He can barely make it past eight pm before falling asleep.” Aaron picked up another present and the two of you turned back to the wrapping, still leaning against each other.

“Oh I know, but he’s got that Hotchner determination, just like his papa. Now come on, it’s getting dark and Spencer said he’d be back with Jack at seven. We gotta get the rest of the gifts wrapped before either of them see.” Aaron pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before passing you the tape and exchanging it for a roll of red ribbon, wrapping a strand of it around a present for Jessica, a new book she wanted from her favourite author.

The rest of the evening before Jack came back was a mess of paper and tape, and with only ten minutes to spare before he came home with Spencer to drop him off, the gifts were wrapped, tucked under the lit tree, and you had collapsed against Aaron on the couch, fingers exhausted.

“Well, sweetheart, that was a pretty successful gift day, if I do say so myself. I only need a couple more hours on Saturday and then I’ll be done my shopping.” You look up at him, a look of confusion covering your face for a moment before he explains. “I need to get you something, of course! I couldn’t do it today because you were with me.” You smile at him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips and lean your forehead against his.

“Oh, and what are you planning to get me?” He shakes his head, a glee filled smile gracing his features before there’s a knock on the door and he’s pulling away to open it, but lingering for a moment to whisper in your ear.

“That’s another thing I love about Christmas, the countless surprises on Christmas morning.” And then he was walking away, opening the door to Spencer and Jack, a coy smile playing on your husband’s lips as he speaks to Spencer and Jack bounds into your lap.

This was December, this was Christmas, and though it was all bright and shiny and new to you, with your Hotchner boys, it was perfect.

PLEASE INTERACT FOR MORE AARON HOTCHNER FICS!

Tagging people on my taglist, and people I think might enjoy: @spookydrreid @gay-prentiss @clarawatson @wasteland-bvby @cacoetheswriting @altsvu @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @averyhotchner @reidology @thank-the-lord @courtneyapua @art-and-thoughts @peachpitfics @lizzarooni @lady-loves-a-lot @lumosemily @spacedikut @spencerreid9 @flipperpenguins @reidyoulikeabook @ssamorganhotchner @randomwriter1021 @meganskane @matthewgraygublerlover @hotchner-clemmons @ssahotchswife @haley-h0tchner @scuttling @hotchley

[detectivehannibal]

Bombshell

__

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language.

Requested by: @lzzygeekk

Prompt: Can you write a story of hannibal x reader x will on the episode in season 2 where the guys are eating while planning to kill Crawford, Hannibal suggest they should escape and the reader just drop the bomb by saying she is pregnant...

Word Count: 1,115

“Just tell me. You can tell me anything.”

__

Whoever coined the phrase “morning sickness” needed to have their head kicked in. Your morning sickness seemed to last at every waking moment of the day. You rolled one of the cooked carrots to the edge of your plate with your fork. You didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. You were trying your hardest to listen to what Hannibal and Will were saying. It was a rather sickening conversation to the average person, but you had come accustomed to it over time. 

You had stayed silent during their conversation, trying to eat enough to where Hannibal wouldn’t get suspicious. You didn’t dare take even a single sip from your wine glass, but you did take the steps to appear to be drinking it. 

“You do understand the risks of what we’re planning to do? The consequences we’ll face if this goes wrong?” Will pondering, shoveling a forkful of “duck” into his mouth.

You looked at Hannibal, your focus back on the conversation at hand. 

“Nothing will go wrong. I assure you of that.” Hannibal said, confident in his abilities.

What Will and Hannibal were planning to do was a big deal. Any error or minor mistake would draw everything straight to them. You’d be an accomplice to the murder of Jack Crawford. You thought about the baby growing in your belly. What life would this child have if both of their parents were in prison? Or if they had to be on the run all the time?

Hannibal didn’t even know about it yet. You had been holding off on telling him until the finer details were worked out. You didn’t want to stress him more. 

“We’ll have to deal with the body.” Will pointed out.

“You underestimate me, Will. We can make an escape afterwards.” Hannibal returned.

You were barely able to stand this conversation anymore. There was so much more at stake now. An innocent, brand new life had been dealt into your hand of cards. You and Hannibal shared a hand. He needed to know now how to play his respective hand. 

“If I could interrupt for a moment...” You spoke clearly to cut through the conversation. 

Both pairs of eyes flickered over to you. Will raised a brow, taking another bite of his meal. A soft smile appeared on Hannibal’s face.

“What is it, love?” He asked.

He had been wondering what was making you so quiet. You weren’t the most talkative person when you had a guest, but it was just Will. He was hardly a guest anymore. Quite honestly, you were surprised that Hannibal hadn’t noticed that you were carrying his child yet. He had extensive senses, being able to “smell” sickness on people and all.

“Could you two put this off for a while? Perhaps until...further notice?” You suggested.

Hannibal shot Will a look, to which Will returned that same look. Something was going on that you weren’t saying. 

“Why would we do that?” Will questioned, sipping his wine. 

You felt a twist in your stomach, but it wasn’t the morning sickness. You knew you had to do it now. 

“Hannibal, I...I don’t know how to tell you this.” You admitted, feeling all the blood drain from your face.

Hannibal was puzzled. He had no idea what you were saying.

“Just tell me. You can tell me anything.” He assured you.

You looked at Will once more, before looking down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out, a slight crack in your voice. 

Will’s fork and knife fell to his plate with a loud clatter. Hannibal’s face went completely pale. You were panicked at your sudden confession. You had no idea how Hannibal would react and you surely didn’t know how this would change your lives. A thick, painful silence filled the room. They were both looking at you, but you didn’t return either of them even a glance. 

“Shit...” Will finally muttered under his breath. 

He rubbed his face in a taxing way, this was so going to complicate things. While they could definitely carry on with their plot without you (since you weren’t going to be directly involved anyway), Will knew that Hannibal wasn’t going to take any risks if you were in a state where you’d need him around. 

Hannibal was very confident in his skills. He toyed with the idea of going through with murdering Jack Crawford, but he knew that if he DID get caught, you’d be just as guilty for being an accomplice. He didn’t want you in that position.

“Darling, how long have you known?” He queried.

You spoke softly.

“About a month or so.” You replied.

Hannibal exhaled. Will downed the rest of his wine, not hesitating to refill his glass.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hannibal went on.

You shrugged.

“You’ve been so busy. I didn’t want to totally ruin your plans, but I really didn’t think the two of you would go through with this.” You explained.

Hannibal nodded. Will had his head buried in his hands now. 

A planned murder and an unborn child. A terrible combination if Hannibal had ever seen one. 

Hannibal had to admit, he had a glimmer of joy at the thought of you carrying his child. Hannibal had always thought that pregnancy was such a beautiful thing. He had always wanted to see you go through the phases and trimester of growing a human. He stood from his seat, approaching you slowly.

“Oh, my dear. I wish you had told me sooner.” He said, resting a hand on your shoulder.

You sighed heavily.

“I know. I just-”

“Hannibal,” Will interrupted, his face still in his hands; “What the hell are we going to do now?”

You felt a twinge of guilt. You knew this had put a wedge in their plans, which was never your intent. However, you didn’t really mean to get knocked up either.

“Just as [Y/N] said. We’ll put this off,” Hannibal stated; “The baby comes first.”

Will groaned, but nodded. He didn’t really see any better option. You felt relief that Hannibal wasn’t going through with it for now. You needed him to help you raise your baby into the world. 

“I’m sorry, Hannibal.” You apologized.

He shook his head.

“Don’t be. I’m thrilled that you’re pregnant,” He said, realizing you hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited; “You’re going to have our child.”

He guided you up from your chair, watching as a genuine smile appeared on your face. 

“Yeah...I am.” 

Will looked as if he wanted to puke. Hannibal kissed your forehead, before returning to dinner.

“Not to worry, my love. We’ll be just fine.”

[shegatsby]

Mistletoe

Hi! Do you still take requests? I recently fall I the hole of the Hannibal fandom and I would love a Holiday fic with Hannibal x reader, Will x reader or maybe both when they kiss under the mistletoe.  @lzzygeekk​

A/N: Thank you for requesting this. Sorry for any typos. Enjoy! ;)

Hannibal x Female Reader

Warnings: None.

It was the Christmas holiday and Hannibal Lecter threw a dinner party for his close friends which included Jack, Alana, Will and Y/N. Y/N was new to the group, a shy girl with a big heart and beautiful eyes, thought Hannibal when he first saw her. Over the weeks Y/N became a close friend to all of them, she was always there and love to help people around her and Hannibal noticed how giving she was. Since he was psychiatrist he could see that her behavior comes from childhood traumas and he knew he could use her. His intention at first was to use her, however after spending time with her and talking to her, he saw how smart she was and he respect that.

‘’I’ve never eaten something like this before, it’s lovely Hannibal. Thank you for inviting me.’’ Y/N said, they were sitting and enjoying the great meals Hannibal prepared for them, he smiled proudly. ‘’Did you had any help?’’ She asked, Jack chuckled, ‘’When Doctor Lecter cooks for friends he never gets help. Am I wrong Hannibal?’’

Hannibal turned to Y/N who was sitting close to him, he could smell her fresh cologne, her evening dress was dark red and velvet, she looked elegant and sophisticated. ‘’Jack is right. I love cooking for people that I’m close with.’’ He didn’t use the word ‘’friend’’ because he had plans for Y/N.

She saw Hannibal giving her a subtle wink and felt the heat rush to her cheeks, she liked Hannibal but she knew he was a busy man who only loved his work. She felt the sadness wash her body, she focused on eating and listening the conversation, it was mostly work related, there was a new serial killer in town and they were trying to catch him.

After the dinner Y/N helped Hannibal in the kitchen, others were in the living room enjoying the soft classical music and the heat coming from the fireplace. ‘’Thank you again Hannibal.’’ She said while putting the dishes into the dishwasher, ‘’You are one of us now Y/N, and I enjoy your company. I would love to spend time with you more.’’ She almost dropped the plate she was holding, ‘’I- I would love that too.’’

They left the kitchen, there was a huge Christmas tree, it looked shiny and Y/N loved it. Y/N was sipping her red wine, standing close to the tree and Hannibal decided to go talk to her.

‘’How does the wine taste? You like it?’’ He asked, he loved to serve his guests, so far had no complaints (if you don’t count the dead ones of course), ‘’Delicious. Smells divine.’’ She replied, she could see the Christmas lights shining in his dark brown eyes, ‘’I2m glad you enjoyed it, I should thank you for coming here tonight. I thought you might hesitate and turn down my invitation.’’ He was being honest, he wanted to spend Christmas with people especially with Y/N because he never liked being alone during holidays, it made him remember old traumas where they are safely locked in his mind palace.

‘’Oh my God! You guys are under the mistletoe right now!’’ Alana said to them, Y/N looked up to see and Alana was right. ‘’I suppose we should follow the tradition?’’ Hannibal asked, a sudden chill went through her. She wanted to that for weeks and it was happening, ‘’I suppose we should.’’ And he placed a hand on her waist to close the gap between their bodies, they both closed their eyes and she let him kiss her. It was a short kiss, a small touch which made her eager for more, she felt his puffy lips on hers and the time stopped. For a second -which seemed eternity- it was just two of them standing. When he pulled away he looked at her deeply, they heard applause and cheers which made her giggle like a little girl.

Hannibal’s plan for them was working, he was purposefully hanged that mistletoe so that he could kiss her. Will Graham knew all about it, he was a good observant and he was just smiling, he was happy for them.

When Hannibal saw how red her cheeks were he knew she had feelings for her, and it gave him hope to start a relationship.

Thank you for reading. :)

[eminems-skittles]

lazy days [spencer reid x reader]

spencer reid x fem!reader part two of family game night warnings: none word count: 3k ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The early morning sun slipped through the white curtains, causing a soft yellow glow to fall upon the room. The soft breeze rustled the plants and curtains slightly, and the sounds of birds chirping in the distance could barely be heard. It seemed as if the world was just waking up, ready to take on the new day. Y/N and Spencer were still laying in bed, tangled with one another. Y/N was still asleep, taking advantage of the day off, while Spencer was just laying in bed, admiring the beautiful girl next to him.

Y/N had her head on Spencer's bare chest, her arm thrown lazily across his stomach, and her leg was laying over one of his hips. Spencer had an arm around her back, playing with her soft (y/h/c) His other hand was resting on her leg, tracing small shapes on it. He leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. When he did, Y/N's (y/e/c) fluttered open, a smile appearing on her face when she saw him.

"Good morning," he whispered to her, afraid if he spoke too loud he'd ruin the peaceful atmosphere.

"Good morning," she responded, leaning up to kiss him gently.

"How long have you been awake?" Spencer asked, knowing she had been awake longer than he was aware.

"I don't know, maybe five or ten minutes. Can you keep playing with my hair, feels good," She said, sleep was still laced in her voice, as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Of course, my love. We should get up in a few minutes though, or else the team is going to come wake us up," Spencer said, brushing the hair out of her face. When he mentioned the team, Y/N's eyes shot open, remembering that they spent the night at Rossi's last night. Y/N groaned and dug her head into Spencer's neck.

"But I don't wanna," Y/N whined, her voice muffled by Spencer's neck. He laughed lightly, knowing she just wanted to stay in bed all day. Spencer rubbed her back gently, causing her to sigh happily. "I love you, you know that right?"

"I love you too," Spencer smiled down at her. He brought the hand on her leg up to her face to tilt it up at him and kissed her softly. The kiss turned from soft and loving to heated and passionate. Y/N lifted herself up to straddle Spencer's lap, his hands moving down to her hips.

Without warning, the bedroom door flung open, revealing JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Derek, who all let out groans of disgust. Y/N and Spencer broke apart from the kiss, staring at each other with scared eyes. Y/N's face was burning a bright red.

"Oh yeah, pretty boy! Get some!" Derek shouted. Y/N hid her face in Spencer's neck, desperate to hide herself from the team. Spencer's arms hugged her tightly to him, knowing she was shy about PDA in front of the team.

"Guys, grow up! We're all adults," Spencer said before pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N's head. Emily, JJ, and Penelope all awed at the cute sight, while Derek groaned again.

"Actually we're not. Speaking of adults, the real ones wanted us to come get you. Brunch is almost ready," Derek said before turning around and leaving. The girls stayed for a second, admiring the couple. They never got to see this side of Spencer and Y/N's relationship because they didn't like to be touchy at work and Y/N didn't really like PDA.

"We'll be out in a few minutes," Spencer said, waiting for the group of girls to close the door. "You okay, my love?" He asked quietly. She nodded into his neck.

"Wanna stay here with you," she mumbled, her arms going around his torso. Spencer knew that she was going to be clingy today. They were normally touchy on their days off, making up for the time at work they couldn't be. But there were some days that one or both of them couldn't stand to be away from each other longer than fifteen minutes, and Spencer could tell that today was one of those days.

"You're clingy today, huh?" Spencer voiced his thoughts. He smiled as she nodded, her nose brushing the crook of his neck. "Well, my darling, I am in need of some food, so why don't we go get some food and then we can cuddle while everyone is doing stuff?"

Y/N muttered an 'okay' before she rolled off of Spencer so she could change into the clothes she brought just incase they stayed the night. In a few minutes, they were both ready to join the others for breakfast. Y/N was wearing one of Spencer's sweaters and a pair of shorts, while Spencer was wearing a pair of jeans reserved for days off, and a T-Shirt. Y/N stood by the door, waiting for Spencer to finish getting ready. When he was finished, he sauntered over to Y/N and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Alright grumpy. Let's go get you some food," Spencer smiled at her, grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen, where everyone was.

"It's about time," Rossi said when he saw the two walk into the room. That grabbed everyone's attention. The couple was greeted with hey's and good morning's from the team, and after saying good morning back, Spencer took a seat next to Derek, jumping into a conversation with him. Y/N lingered for a second, before making an executive decision. With some hesitation, she sat on Spencer's lap. Without questioning it, Spencer's arms wrapped around her waist, holding her closer to him. Y/N smiled, before talking to Emily and JJ. Emily and JJ both wiggled their eyebrows at the small interaction between the two.

"What's going on with you two today?" JJ asked, catching Spencer and Derek's attention. Spencer laughed lightly, moving Y/N slightly so he can talk to everyone else.

"Y/N is being clingy today because it's our day off," Spencer said, matter-of-factly. The team sent puzzled looks at him, wondering what he meant. "Normally on our days off, Y/N and I are really touchy since we try not to be at work, so essentially we make up for lost time."

"Awe that's cute," Emily said, taking a sip of her mimosa. "What should we do today?"

"Oooh, let's go swimming," JJ said, looking over at Rossi.

"Don't you guys have family to go take care of?" Rossi asked, putting the finishing touches on the brunch for the team.

"Nope, Will decided to take the kids to the zoo with some of their friends today," JJ replied, standing up to help Rossi bring the food to the table.

"I was supposed to take Jack to see a movie today," Y/N said, remembering how she convinced Hotch to go to the party. She looked over at Hotch who appeared to have just realized also.

"Oh crap, you're right," Hotch said. "He actually has a birthday party today, so maybe you guys could go tomorrow?"

Y/N looked up at Spencer, silently asking if she could reschedule their plans for tomorrow so she could hang out with Jack. He nodded, softly smiling at Y/N's excitement. "Yeah, I can take him tomorrow!"

Rossi set the food on the table, encouraging everyone to dig in. Everyone marveled at the amount of food laid before them. There were pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.

"Damn Rossi, are you trying to feed an army?" Derek asked, grabbing a stack of pancakes from the plate they were on.

"Not quite, I'm trying to feed the BAU which is kind of the same thing," Rossi said, rolling his eyes.

Y/N made a move to go sit in her own chair so that Spencer would be able to eat his food without her being in the way. When Spencer felt her move, his arms tightened around her, holding her in place. Everyone was so engrossed with their own conversations, they didn't even notice the small interaction between the two. Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, her eyes searching for answer as to why he didn't let her switch seats. Spencer leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Just stay here, want you close today," is all he said before turning his attention back to Hotch and Rossi's conversation.

Y/N moved her head so she could whisper in his ear, "Now who's being clingy?" Spencer laughed quietly before bringing one of her hands up to kiss it.

Brunch lasted about thirty minutes before everyone started getting restless, wanting to go swimming and go enjoy the beautiful day outside. JJ and Y/N volunteered to do the dishes for Rossi since he had made extravagant meals both last night and this morning. Everyone else decided to go change into their swimsuits and head out to the pool.

"So," JJ said, when everyone was out of the house. "Are you guys always so clingy when we aren't working?" JJ was Y/N's best friend at the BAU but she never saw this side of Spencer and Y/N's relationship.

"I mean, I guess so. It's just like with the stuff we see everyday, we want to make sure the other is okay and that we're both safe, if that makes sense," Y/N explained, drying off a bowl and setting it on the counter. "I think after Maeve he just wants to make sure I'm real and that I am there with him. We've never really discussed it, we kind of just fell into this pattern."

"That makes sense. I'm happy you two found each other. He seems happier lately," JJ said, smiling at Y/N, and putting the dried dishes in their respective cabinets. Y/N looked over at her friends in the pool, a smile growing on her face when she saw Spencer running over to the house, wearing swim trunks and an unbuttoned t-shirt.

"Hey, you two! Rossi said to just leave the rest," Spencer said, coming over to Y/N, pulling her into a hug. "I missed you." Spencer kissed Y/N on the nose.

"You literally saw her ten minutes ago," JJ scoffed, leaving the room to go change into her swimsuit.

"You should wear this more often," Y/N said, tracing shapes on the part of his chest that was exposed. "For the record, I missed you too."

"Oh, flirty and clingy today. How did I get so lucky?" Spencer asked, smirking and putting his hands on her hips. Y/N brought her arms around his neck, kissing his jaw softly.

"Hmm, good question, mister," She said, giggling. Spencer laughed, pressing a kiss to her lips before kissing down her neck. "But," she started, cut off by Spencer kissing her lips again, "this can't happen right now, my love."

"I know, darling," Spencer replied, kissing her forehead. "When we get home," was all he said, winking before he walked back outside.

She stared at him in awe before knocking herself out of her trance. She quickly went to the room they shared the previous night to change into her pastel blue and yellow bikini. When she went outside, she was greeted with wolf whistles and cheers from her coworkers.

"Last I checked, she was my girlfriend, not yours," Spencer said to no one in particular. Y/N sat down on the side of the pool, letting her feet be submerged in the water. Spencer swam over to Y/N, He stood up and turned around letting her wrap her arms and legs around him, carrying her around the pool on his back.

"She may be your girlfriend, but she's my work wife, and damn is she fine" Emily said, whistling again. Y/N laughed, kicking some water at Emily's face.

"Same could be said about you, wifey," Y/N said, winking at Emily.

"Uh oh, pretty boy. Looks like you have some competition," Derek said, laughing as Spencer rolled his eyes.

"You know, statistically speaking," the group groaned, but Y/N encouraged him to continue, "women who flirt with their friends tend to have stronger friendships than women who don't," Spencer said, his voice trailing off at the end of his sentence.

"How do you store so much in such a pretty head?" Y/N asked, her chin resting on his shoulder.

"Y/N, I have an eidetic memory. You know this," Spencer said, trying to look at her, but ultimately failing to do so.

"I was complimenting you, silly goose," Y/N said ruffling his hair. "let go for a second." She whispered to Spencer. He complied and released his grip on her legs. Within a second, Y/N was submerged underwater, springing back up, splashing everyone around her with water. Feeling water on his back, Spencer turned around, watching his girlfriend splash around with Emily, JJ, and Penelope.

"So, when are you going to do it?" Hotch asked Spencer.

"Uh, do what?" Spencer asked, his voice in a whisper. He knew what Hotch was talking about but didn't want Y/N to hear their conversation.

"I saw it in the small pocket of your bag," Hotch said, careful not to reveal his secret.

"I haven't decided when yet. I want to do it when the time is right," Spencer replied.

"Does anyone else know about it?" Hotch asked quietly.

"Nope, I thought I was being really sneaky. You're the only one who knows," Spencer said, looking at Hotch. "Do you think she'll say yes?"

"Reid, you and Y/N have something special. No one on the team has seen either of you happier than when you are with the other. Of course she'll say yes," Hotch said, patting Spencer on the back.

After hours of swimming, laughing, drinking, and hanging out, the team decided it was probably time to eat dinner. They decided to order a pizza instead of having Rossi cook for them again. Hotch and Rossi had started a fire in the fire pit, encouraging the group to join them around the fire. The team, still clad in their swimsuits, sat around the fire, swapping stories about their childhoods, college experiences, and any other story that went with the flow of the conversation. Y/N was wrapped in a towel, sitting on Spencer's lap.

"Are you cold?" Spencer whispered in her ear when Y/N shivered. She nodded. "Okay, wait here. I'm going to go grab you my sweater." Y/N stood up to get off of his lap, before sitting in his seat, returning to the conversation she was having with Penelope. After a few minutes, Spencer returned with a sweater draped over his arm. "Here you go my love," he said, handing her the sweater. Y/N thanked him before slipping the warm sweater. When she looked up, she saw Spencer on one knee, noticing everyone else had gone silent.

"Spencer," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"Y/F/N, I have loved you since the first time I got injured on a case with you. It was our first case together, and even though you barely knew me, you insisted on keeping me company and telling my stories about yourself to keep me conscious. You were so kind and caring towards me, a practical stranger at the time, and from that day forward you had me wrapped around your finger. As time went on and we grew closer, I knew I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone but you. I promise to spend the rest of my life protecting and loving you. What I'm trying to say is, Y/F/N, will you marry me?"

At this point, Y/N had tears streaming down her face, a watery smile was etched on her face. She nodded before saying, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over again. They both stood up and Y/N launched herself into Spencer's arms. They hugged each other as close as possible. When they pulled apart, Spencer slid a beautiful ruby ring onto Y/N's ring finger. "You remembered," she said, in awe at the ring. She realized how dumb her sentence was as soon as she said it but she didn't care.

"Of course I did," Spencer said, happy tears falling from his face. He leaned down to kiss Y/N on the lips.

Everyone clapped and awed at the event unfolding in front of them. Everyone had tears in their eyes, caught off guard at the sudden proposal.

"If you don't mind my asking," Penelope said, wiping away a few stray tears. "What did he remember?"

"On our fourth date, we watched a romantic comedy movie that had a proposal and Y/N said that if I ever proposed she wanted a ruby ring," Spencer said, smiling at the memory. He moved them so they were sitting back in the chair.

"Wow, fourth date and you were already talking about getting married?" Emily said, beaming at the happy couple next to her. "Y/N, why a ruby instead of diamond?"

"I've always wanted a ruby ring instead. For thousands of years, rubies were considered to represent love and passion," Y/N stated simply, snuggling into Spencer's chest.

"To the newly engaged Dr. Reid and Agent Y/L/N," Hotch said, lifting his glass. Everyone toasted to Spencer and Y/N.

"I love you," Y/N said to Spencer before kissing him. The kiss was filled with love and happiness.

"I love you too," Spencer said, kissing her lips and then her forehead. In a lower voice he said, "Why don't we go home and celebrate by ourselves?"

"In a few minutes, don't want to make it seem suspicious," Y/N said, resting her head against his chest.

The group fell into a discussion about weddings. Rossi was sharing his wedding experiences causing eliciting some groans every few minutes. Every chance they got, Emily, Penelope, and JJ asked Y/N if they could help plan the wedding and if they could be bridesmaids. Her answer every time was 'yes of course.' Spencer just beamed at his family and fiancée, happy everything was falling into place.

Who would've thought they'd end up getting engaged after a family game night?

[stories-to-tell-by-lantern-light]

Who Am I Really?

(Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Iron was all he could taste, as he hugged his arms close to his chest. The white snow that speckled the forest floor contrasted greatly with his newly acquired ash-grey skin. He could feel blood crusting under his fingernails, he could feel the sting of the cold snow underneath his bare feet as he walked. Whatever they did to him, he was no longer human that much was clear, his feet turned more animal-like and had ripped through his old shoes. If he was being honest with himself he knew that from the moment he awoke and could still see that he was no longer human.

Jack Nichols shivered as he caressed the hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. They were dripping with the black tar that was mercilessly poured in there by Jenny and her cult.

‘That absolute fucking bitch.’ He thought, and an animal-like snarl tore through his throat. He could feel the stretching and popping of his jaw as he ground his teeth together. Killing her and her stupid friends was therapeutic to him, remembering the taste of their blood as it filled his mouth when he tore out their throats made him feel euphoric. Pausing his steps only for a brief moment he let those memories of eating their flesh and organs consume him, it only served to make his mouth water.

What was wrong with him? Why did that memory, which happened only hours ago, make him so god damn hungry? What exactly had they done to him, as much as he tried not to dwell on that thought the hunger that ate away at him even after the slaughter was almost too much to handle. All Jack wanted when he woke up this morning was to go on a date with a cute girl, get a little drunk, and maybe get lucky (though realistically that was just wishful thinking). The true college experience one might say, even for a med student. Especially with a schedule as busy as his...that was as busy as his. He knew he should’ve just stuck to focusing on school and studying his brain out, god why did he have to listen to his friends as they urged him on the date.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

This. This was clearly the worst possible outcome.

What he really couldn’t believe, however, was that he allowed one of the cultists to get a hit on him, and a bad one at that. Turning his head to glance down at the tear in his thigh, it was a deep gash that desperately needed to get medical attention and fast. The only problem the former medical student faced was that whatever was pouring out of his leg wasn’t blood. It was a deep black ooze that stained the white snow that littered the forest floor. In fact, Jack wasn’t even sure if normal medical supplies would even heal his wound. Jack grit his teeth trudging onwards into the forest, a faint buzzing reverberated around in his skull like flies buzzing around a corpse that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He placed his hand against a tree the world spinning around him. Whatever the blood-like substance that was pouring out of his leg was, he was losing it fast. Jack heard the crunching of snow in front of him and a small gasp. It took most of his strength but he picked his head up and snarled. Jack bared his teeth and tried to make himself look as dangerous as possible, he felt like a wild animal that was cornered by the hunter. There was a girl in front of him, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair that was stuffed under a furry winter hat. She took a few steps back, her brown snow boots making giant footprints in her wake. He could hear the blood flowing through this girl’s veins, as her anxiety levels seemed to spike. The anxiety caused her heartbeat to quicken drastically, hearing the sound only served to increase Jack’s seemingly ceaseless hunger. Jack tried to take another step towards her, flexing the sharp nails on his hands but collapsed under his own weight, his fucking leg. He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“What are you?” The girl’s voice held a slight quiver to it and Jack could feel her sharp eyes burning holes into his body. He watched as she hesitantly took a step closer, her (f/c) parka standing out against the muted colors of the forest.

“I don’t know.” He responded with a raspy breath, she smelled divine but he had no strength to attack. Something in his bones told him that he was beyond human, something so much more, a god perhaps? What a silly thought that he couldn’t shake away. Through his quickly blurring vision, he swore he could make out a pair of fancy dress shoes a little bit behind the girl. He saw the girl drop to her knees and cover her ears, his vision went black and the sound of static accompanied the darkness.

---

Jack was expecting to be dead. He expected to be accompanied by beautiful white light, maybe an angel or something. However, it caught him very off guard when he suddenly awoke in a rather plush bed. He threw the plaid covers off himself unceremoniously and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The baby god never got far because he let out a howl of pain as a sharp sensation traveled up his thigh. Shit right, his entire upper thigh was practically ripped open. He forgot all about that, glancing down at his wound he noticed it was wrapped tightly in medical bandages and he assumed it was stitched up underneath the dressings. Whoever fixed the wound seemed to have done at least a semi-decent job, at least he wasn’t dead. Sniffing the air with his newly acquired sense of smell he could make out the distinct smell of humans and...was that lavender?

Jack felt his stomach growl and he doubled over clutching it. They smelled delicious. He could practically hear their organs singing out to him, rip open the human, steal us, devour us.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door opening, in the middle of the doorway stood the exact girl he’d seen in the forest. Immediately going on the defense he bared his teeth opening his jaw as wide as he could, he heard the popping sound of his jaw as it extended, he felt something swirl around in his mouth. He felt a chill run down his spine at the unwelcomed sensation.

Did he have more than one tongue?

Shaking the thought away Jack didn’t move to attack, he was never the type. He would always rather listen to rationality before getting his hands dirty, the only issue was he was starving and the girl would absolutely make a fine meal.

“Don’t try demon.” The girl scoffed eyeing Jack up and down, if he was still his old college self he would’ve gotten flustered at the gesture. A girl showing him attention? Unheard of back them. However, after Jenny, he was almost positive he’d never let that happen again. His sockets looked down at what the girl held in her hands, it was a plate, a plate that had kidneys on top of it. He was only mildly aware of the fact that he was drooling all over himself. “Oh gross.” She scrunched up her nose placing the organs on the bottom of the bed.

Without hesitation, Jack attacked the cold meat shoving it in his mouth with vigor. He knew blood was all over his face and hands but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jack knew the girl’s calculated eyes were watching his every move, even so, he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as the food slid down his throat. Once the meal was finished and Jack was satisfied he finally felt he had enough strength to start asking questions.

“Who are you?” He rasped, whipping his mouth with the back of what was left of his sleeve.

“Really? You’re asking ME that question.”

“I’m not a fan of your attitude.”

“I’m not a fan of you bleeding out on my property.”

Jack growled low and guttural.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The girl had the audacity to laugh in his face was she not aware of what he was capable of now?

“Nice try but I’m not scared of you. You’re not allowed to hurt me as long as you’re under my care.” She pointed to herself with her thumb, puffing out her chest a little however he could hear her pulse increase just the slightest bit.

Jack only scowled.

“What pray tell is exactly stopping me?” He raised an eyebrow watching carefully as the girl lifted up her sleeve to her sweater. Scared into her wrist was a symbol that Jack had never seen before in his life, but for some unknown reason, he felt dread wash over him. Carved into her wrist was an O with an X slashed through it. “What’s that supposed to prove exactly? That you’re into weird tattoos?”

The (h/c)-ette let out a loud sigh like this conversation was boring her. Oh he’s sorry it’s not his fault he was turned into a fucking organ-eating monster by a cult at his local college! If he still had his eyes they would be rolling so far back into his skull, yet he still waited for the girl to explain.

“My name is (y/n), I’m a medical proxy under The Operator. Currently one of the only ones he has left because we keep getting killed off by rogue killers.” The girl, (y/n), clicked her tongue in clear distaste at the mention of said killers. “Since I’m under The Operator it means if you kill me, he’ll kill you, that’s the deal Jacky boy.” That put him on high alert.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“You’re certainly full of questions for someone just waking up out of a coma. If you must know The Operator gave me a brief rundown of your file after we found you in the woods.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest “It’s your lucky day because you just got hired to work for him.” She gave him a round of applause, but it sounded more mocking than serious and he only grew more confused.

“This doesn't make any sense to me. I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. It’ll all be explained in due time. For now, all you have to focus on is getting better so you can begin your training. Lucky for you, I’m your registered nurse and caregiver, so enjoy your stay at castle de la (Y/n). Trust me when I say you should value your time here while you still have it.” A thousand more questions ran through Jack’s mind and his little question and answer session with his self-proclaimed nurse didn’t really help.

“So you’re a med student then?” She made a noise of affirmation picking at the strings of her sweater.

“Was a med student Jack, that pretty much came to a screeching halt after I was scouted by the boss man. That, however,” He watched as (Y/n) put a hand to her lips signaling him to stop asking questions, “Is a story for another day. The first order of business now that you’ve eaten is a shower. Cause no offense but you smell like dried blood, and coming from me that’s saying something cause I smell blood all the time.”

Jack still didn’t trust this stranger fully and it got under his skin that she seemed to know everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. Yet, a shower did seem nice at this moment, he glanced down at his hands and noticed his nails were caked with dry blood. He could only imagine what every other part of his body looked like, (y/n) clearly didn’t bother cleaning him up aside from dressing his wounds.

“A shower sounds good.” Jack nodded in confirmation and the girl gave a relieved smile.

“Oh thank God you agreed, it took me a week of convincing to get Jeff to go take his first shower.” Jack decided it was best not to ask who Jeff was deciding that that was a can of worms he shouldn’t open just yet. She reached out to touch him and he immediately recoiled back almost biting her handoff, the smile that appeared disappeared into a frown.

“Don’t touch me.” Memories of Jenny’s friends holding him down while he pleaded for his life flashed across his mind. The blade coming closer and closer to Jack’s crystal blue eyes before making contact and-

“Alright, cannibal boy snap out of it. Can’t have you succumbing to blood lust just yet. You don’t wanna injure yourself more.” (Y/n) snapped her fingers next to his ears and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she snapped him out of his stupor. “I was going to help you to the bathroom because you really shouldn’t put pressure on your leg. Is that okay?”

Jack felt himself nodding reluctantly. She was right, he really shouldn’t put stress on his leg or it could cause more harm than good. Especially since he didn’t know the extent of the injury yet, for all he knew he was lucky they didn’t hit the femoral artery. Her arms went around his waist as the god and the human girl hobbled to the bathroom together. On the short walk there Jack was trying to get a feel of the house, in case he needed to make a grand escape in the future.

“I’ll put some fresh clothes outside the door for you, call for me when you’re done so I can help you back to the bedroom.” (Y/n) explained as Jack hobbled into the bathroom, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her as he shut the door in her face. He heard a faint click of a tongue from the other side of the door and listened to the girls retreating footsteps.

Jack leaned against the sink putting most of his weight on his hands. The sink creaked at the newfound pressure and Jack wasn’t sure it was because it was an old house or because he had newfound strength. He glanced up at the mirror, it was weird somewhat seeing when you had absolutely no eyes. It was the first time since the incident he got a good look at himself, he looked about as good as he felt.

Terrible.

His auburn hair curled around his now pointed ears and was caked in mud and dirt. He was almost grateful that (y/n) didn’t touch him aside from the wound while he was unconscious, Jack couldn’t imagine what he might’ve done if he felt anyone go near his face. Speaking of his face, he opened his mouth and saw his teeth were shaved into razor-sharp fangs. His stomach turned as he remembered the exact reason why they were like that, organs. They were like that so he could eat organs. The thought wasn’t nearly as nauseating as it should’ve been.

His skin was unnatural and sickly grey color, as he lifted up his shirt the color seemed to spread all the way down his body. He glanced down at his hands and saw his nails were long and black, almost like those girls who wore acrylics, except he was sure their nails couldn’t rip into people's chests with a single swipe. Continuing down his body he lifted up one of his padded feet, he was correct in his assumption from earlier. They were much more animal-like, he wondered if they made him faster, what purpose could they possibly serve other than that?

Gently letting his footfall back down on the floor he shuffled to the shower and turned it on, the water sprayed out in a burst and he patiently waited for it to heat up. Eventually, he was able to step inside, not before knocking his head not only against the curtain rod but also on the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He snarled glaring down at the showerhead. Jack did a little double-take, okay he was also super tall, at least he got one blessing out of whatever the fuck was happening. Jack had to kneel on the ground in order to let the water roll down his body, with a deep breath he enjoyed the warm water pelting his skin. He fumbled around with the shampoo trying to figure out how to open it without popping a hole in the container. As the lid popped open he was hit with the calming scent of lavender.

~~~

“We’ll send someone to come back and check on him in about a month give or take, see how he’s adjusting and healing.” A figure spoke from the kitchen shaking a cigarette into an ashtray, as (y/n) stood across from him. The man ran a hand through his messy brown hair “Then we’ll reassess him, give him a test and see if he’s fit to come to the mansion.” Meanwhile, the girl heaved a sigh of her own and leaned against the cool tiles of her kitchen wall.

“So it’s gonna be my responsibility to explain everything that’s happening to him? Isn’t that supposed to be your job Tim?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow “You realize he’s, like, almost seven feet tall, has no eyes and eats organs right? I’m not even sure WHAT he is.” She muttered, “The rundown I got really only gave me his background and his clear trauma.”

Tim clicked his tongue like the girl in front of him was wasting his time, it made her ball up her fists subconsciously.

God, the main proxies really got on her fucking nerves sometimes.

“You won’t have to worry about that, The Operator will handle all of that throughout the coming weeks. No need to worry. You also don’t need to worry about harvesting organs for him, and hopefully, once he’s healed he’ll work on doing that himself. But for now, someone on a kill close by will be dropping off organs.” Tim’s nose scrunched up a little and the (h/c)-nette’s did the same, she normally prided herself on her strong stomach, but this was a lot even for her. “The only thing you have to do is monitor his eating, see how much he will need on a weekly basis, and obviously keep him alive.”

“Obviously.” They both seemed to have a mutual understanding about that at least, she fucks up and he dies they’re both in deep shit with The Operator. Tim reached to the side where his porcelain mask sat against the countertop.

“Don’t fuck it up.” He pointed to her before slipping out the door leaving the women alone with an organ-eating monster. (Y/n) mimicked ‘don’t fuck it up' in a nasal voice before kicking off the wall and heading back in the direction of her guest's room, she pulled out a pair of crutches from the closet and rested them by the bedside. She gently scratched at the faintly buzzing symbol on her wrist, this is going to be a long month.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Manhattan Sunsets

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arvin gets stationed in Brooklyn after a tour in Vietnam but had never really gone into the city before. When he does, he meets Y/N, who makes it a point to get this small town boy to see the city. (Requested by @euphoriaoxygen​)

Warnings: Brief mentions of PTSD from the war

Word Count: 3950

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. I killed my computer, had to buy a new one, and then I had to catch up on school but I’m hoping to get more fics out. 

________________________________

When Arvin left Knockemstiff, he had no idea what he was planning to do with his life. What could he do? He murdered four people. The idea alone left him feeling sick to his stomach but he knew that at the end of the day, that was exactly what had happened. It wasn’t that he regretted any of it. Preston Teagarden had to pay for his role in Lenora’s suicide and the harm of who knows how many other girls. Carl, Sandy, and Sheriff Lee were all going to kill him first. He knew at least the last three were self-defense, but what did the police think? 

A few weeks had gone by since he left Knockemstiff, traveling to Cincinnati with that nice fella that had given him a ride. Those weeks had given him time to really sit and think about his future. That was when he realized that he didn’t really have plans. His entire life, he told himself he’d get out of Coal Creek eventually. The last thing he wanted to do was die in that little God forsaken town but, beyond that, he didn’t really know. He honestly figured that his life would begin whenever his grandmother and Uncle Earskell passed away so they didn’t need him to care for them anymore. That was all out of the cards now, though, knowing that he’d endanger them just by going back. 

On Tuesday of the third week, he found himself at a recruiter’s office in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, enlisting for the army. If he was being honest with himself, even as he signed the papers, he knew he didn’t want to go overseas. The Vietnam War was one that practically nobody supported, including Arvin. He never understood why the U.S. felt the need to be involved in a battle that had literally nothing to do with us but the army came with a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a paycheck, and some benefits after (if) you got out. All of those were things that Arvin desperately needed. 

Basic training was a breeze. He’d been hardened by years of manual labor, both around his grandmother’s farm and doing construction around town. The other men had initially poked fun at him for his accent and his seemingly smaller stature compared to some of the 6’0”+ giants. That all stopped though the first time they saw him shed his shirt, revealing a rippling six pack of abs beneath taught skin and arms that had definitely seen more work than half of these bigger men. 

After basic training, he found himself stationed at Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn, NY. The army life was pretty close to what he’d imagined: rigorous, demanding, exhausting. Shortly after “settling in” at Fort Hamilton (if you can call being there for two weeks “settling in”), he was deployed across seas to fight in the battle of Ia Drang Valley before returning shortly after. 

It was a Saturday morning and Arvin found himself picking through his food like he did every morning. With a heavy sigh, he set down his meal pack. 

“You alright?” Willard Kast, one of his friends that had survived Ia Drang with him, asked from across the table. 

Arvin began to nod but it turned more into a head shake, “Ya ever just feel like everythin’s the same?” 

Kast laughed, “Well, yeah,” He said as if it was obvious, “They don’t exactly have us here to have fun.” 

“Yeah, but I… I don’t know. Guess I just sorta feel like my life is going on around me but I’m not goin’ with it.” Arvin was never known to be the person who actually spoke about his feelings. For some reason though, this war had just brought out a sudden mortality crisis of sorts. Every time he thought back to those memories of everyone he’d lost, whether it be his mother, father, dog, sister, or war buddies, the dead, blank eyes that stared back at him only seemed to be ghosts of lives still unlived. He didn’t want to be haunted by those same spirits. 

Kast smacked Arvin’s arm and beckoned for him to stand up, “Alright, you, up. Now. You’re getting off base today.” 

“I don’t even know where I’d go if I left.” Arvin huffed, standing up. 

“That’s the fun of it. Just go! Get out of this God forsaken place. See what you find.” Kast had always been oddly upbeat, especially compared to all the people Arvin had ever known growing up. Maybe it was the fact that anything Arvin had ever done felt like an accumulation of negativity so that it felt like there was no “fun in it” as Kast would put it. His friend noticed his hesitation before adding, “You do know what fun is, right?” 

Arvin chuckled a little bit, “Honestly, I don’t know if I do.” 

Within the hour, Arvin found himself dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in a while, a plain white t-shirt with blue jeans and some old, beat-up, black converse with his denim jacket slung over his shoulders. It was getting into autumn now and, though the sun still shone, there was a chill in the breeze. 

Once he stepped off base, he started on his aimless wandering down the streets. Arvin looked up in awe at the tenements and office buildings, sometimes built over restaurants or drug stores. Even though he'd been stationed in Brooklyn for a little while now, he'd never actually taken the time to explore the city. This small town boy was almost overwhelmed. 

Horns of vehicles beeped occasionally and trains roared overhead on raised tracks. On many streets, kids played with balls or some version of baseball with a busted off plank of wood instead of a real bat. Some others were running around just playing tag. A small smile upturned the corner of his lips as he watched them laugh out of the corner of his eye. He wished he'd had something like this growing up. Friends.  

Off to his left, a drug store caught his eye and he dipped in to grab a pack of cigarettes. They didn’t have anything fancy, not that he needed anything that was. Just a pack of the most mediocre selection they had was what he’d left with, lighting one up as he continued his stroll down the street. 

He kept his baseball cap down low, trying to blend in with the rest of the passerby. Arvin had never been one for calling attention to himself. Even in a new place, like Brooklyn, he figured passing through unnoticed would be the best way to go. 

“Mother fu- Just work!” 

Arvin hadn’t had his curiosity piqued by much on this stroll through the city but the disgruntled groans of a girl definitely drew his attention. He slowed his walk just slightly and looked around for the root of the complaints. There was a group of kids playing jacks to his right on the steps leading into a tenement but it was clear that they weren’t the angry woman in question. 

Just ahead, to his left, a car was pulled off to the side of the street and you popped up from the front right side of your car, an annoyed look on your face. You pressed against the car and leaned back, stretching your back out for a moment, before kicking what he assumed to be the tire with a frustrated outcry. 

“Okay, okay…” You breathed, trying to calm down, an almost hysterically frustrated smile on your face, like when you’re so mad that you have no choice but to laugh because, if you don’t, you’re going to punch a wall. Again, you disappeared, crouching back down. Arvin couldn’t see what you were doing but judging by the dragging of metal, he assumed you were trying to fix a tire. 

Arvin approached the back of your car to see you knelt down, the knees of your flare jeans rubbed black from the pavement. You were leaning with all your might onto a bar that curved and hooked onto the bolts on your very flat tire. However, he was impressed to see the jack placed properly and already up in the right position- not that it was a woman thing…. He’d just seen plenty of idiots place the jack in the wrong place. 

“Sorry to bother but you look like you could use a hand.” Arvin offered politely, stepping closer. 

You turned to look at him with a start, not expecting anyone to speak. Arvin couldn’t help the small smile that crept on his face when he noticed the smear of grease across your cheek. Hair stuck up astray in a few places from you brushing it back and out of your face. 

It had always been a goal of yours to not need a man. You’d seen plenty of women in your life dependent on their husbands, daddies, and brothers to do everything for them and then seen them lose everything when they realized all they could do was cook and clean. Not to discredit cooking and cleaning as valuable life skills, because they absolutely were, but you were not going to be some damsel in distress whenever you needed an oil change or got a flat tire. 

But, as much as you hated to admit it, these bolts were giving you a run for your money. After having been at this for nearly twenty minutes to no avail, you sighed in defeat, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind giving it a try, that would be real nice. I’ve been working at it for nearly twenty minutes and nothing.” 

“Here,” Arvin reached his hand out for the pull bar and you stepped aside to allow him room. He notched the socket over the bolt and pushed, trying to crack the bolt. You definitely weren’t exaggerating. Whoever put this on had done a number tightening it. Arvin tried again, leaning into the bar. The denim of his jacket tightened around his flexing muscles as he did so until, finally, it cracked loose and the bolt gave way, twisting. 

With a wipe of your hand across your face, you sighed. It took all your might to (unsuccessfully) not imagine the way this man’s muscles must have been bulging beneath his jacket as he cranked the bar. 

Once it cracked loose, it was easy work to get the bolt off. By the time Arvin had arrived, you’d already managed to get all but two bolts off so he continued to work on the last one without you asking. 

“Oh- I can get that!” You interjected, leaning down to go to grab the bar back. 

Arvin stood up and shook his head, “No, no, it’s no problem. I’m glad to help.” 

When he returned to turning the bolts, you took a step back, brow cocked and arms crossed, “You’re not from around here, are you?” 

The bolt clanged to the ground with a metal clink and Arvin knelt down to shimmy the tire off, “Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, looking up at you as he rolled it to the side. You’d already had the spare ready to go right beside the old one and he grabbed it, wiggling it into place. 

You chuckled, “People don’t really go out of their way to help strangers here. And I like the accent. It’s cute. You from Tennessee or something?” 

Arvin froze up. Should he tell you? What were the chances of you knowing anything relating to the issues of his past? “Ohio.” 

“I didn’t know you guys had accents back there.” You leaned against the side of the car, watching him work on the tire for you. 

He tightened up the bolts all within the tire, “Depends on where you live, I guess.” Arvin pressed himself up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did, “There ya go. You should be all set.” 

You stood up straight and ran your hands on your striped brown, black, and white turtleneck, your face contorting in annoyance when you realized you smeared grease on your favorite sweater. Arvin smirked a little when he noticed the action. 

You were pretty cute. Arvin felt a little confused. Girls back in Coal Creek had never really caught his eye. They were all so similar, just slight variations of each other. There were the hyper-religious good girls but they all reminded him too much of his sister. Either that or they were the girls who hung out with boys like Gene Dinwoodie and that was just a whole crowd that Arvin had no intention of associated with. 

“You really didn’t have to do all that… but thank you for the help.” Your hands rubbed together, the faint black debris marking your fingers. “I have a few bucks. Let me buy you a coffee or something as a thank you?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Arvin readjusted his hat on his head. 

“Please, I insist. You just changed my tire.” You pressed, tucking your hand into your back pocket and crossing your ankles as you leaned against the car. Arvin stood a little closer to you, still a polite distance away, but there was a way he looked down at you that just made butterflies go through your stomach. 

Maybe this was what Kast meant. Maybe this was some of that life he should be living, that adventure he should be having. “Alright. But I don’t really know where anything is around here so….” 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You smiled, “I know a place a few blocks away if you’re up for it? They have some pretty good pie too. Oh, and I’m Y/N by the way.” 

Nerves bubbled in Arvin’s stomach but something made him nod his head, almost against his will, “Arvin,” He nodded a small greeting, “And, yeah, that sounds nice.” 

With a smile, you tapped on the hood of your car and nodded your head over to the passenger side, “It’s not too far but it’s kind of cold. I’d rather drive personally but we can walk if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

The offer took Arvin back to his time hitchhiking his way out of Coal Creek and Knockemstiff. There had been a few bad experiences with handsy truckers and women who’d picked him up but they didn’t erase the memory of his first pick-up with Carl and Sandy. We all know how that ended… 

But he’d made it out of all of those situations, even if just barely, and he honestly didn’t feel uneasy around you. There was an endearing, hardworking, down-to-earth yet friendly energy you gave off that managed to put Arvin at ease. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the front seat of your car as you sped off down the road. 

The day had passed quickly with you and before Arvin knew it, it was already almost sunset. Coffee and pie had turned into a two hour long stay with the two of you talking about life which had in turn turned into a stroll through the city. 

He’d told you about how he had some family issues growing up and left his hometown to join the army. Your exact response was, “I’d say thank you for your service but I don’t exactly support the war if I’m being honest.” 

Arvin sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrows exasperatedly, “Neither do I.”

You told him about how you had been born and raised in Brooklyn, working at a local record shop to save up for a place of your own. You told him all about your career goals and how you wanted to find somewhere you felt like you really belonged. Brooklyn was your home, it always would be, but you felt like there was something else out there for you. 

Talking to you was easy- easier than anyone since Arvin’s mother. He couldn’t explain it but the quiet, secretive boy found himself at ease with you, not only willing to but wanting to open up to you. Maybe it was the adorable way you made it a point to smell your coffee before you drank it, taking in the comforting, rich scent, or maybe it was residue of grease still on your shirt. Arvin couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he was attracted to you in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone in his entire life. 

“Hey,” You perked up, “You said you’ve never really left base, right?” 

Arvin nodded, self-conscious about his lack of adventurous spirit, as Kast would put it, “Unfortunately.” 

“You need to do all the stupid tourist things in New York.” You hit the countertop excitedly, as if the grandest idea anyone had ever had had occurred o you. 

Arvin’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, looking away, “Nah, that ain’t really my thing.” 

“C’mon,” You pressed, holding onto his forearm enthusiastically, “I’m not saying you gotta go stand around and get mugged in Time Square or anything but I think you should experience the city while you’re out here!” 

Sightseeing had never interested Arvin. Hell, he never really even thought he’d make it out of Coal Creek, if he was being honest with himself. Even if he did, he just expected to end up in some other shit hole town that was the same with different people. He never really put much thought into what he wanted to do. His mind had just been so consumed with what he needed to do. 

Arvin swivelled in his chair to face you, “Well what would you suggest that a newcomer go see here?” 

It didn’t take you long at all to think up an idea, “Can you stay out till sunset?” 

_____ 

Manhattan was definitely a different feel from Brooklyn. Arvin felt almost anxious here with all the cars and people and whatnot. He thought the army base was crowded but that was nothing compared to the bustle of the heart of New York City. Skyscrapers dwarfed neighboring buildings, casting shadows that somehow made Arvin feel miniscule in comparison. 

“Here we are!” You exclaimed excitedly, disappearing through the revolving door of a classy looking building. Arvin followed you inside, meeting with you in the large main room. There was a window with a man behind it that you approached, “Two tickets to the top please.” You dug into your small white purse and pulled out a few bills and handed them to the man in exchange for tickets. 

“Wait, what’re you buyin’?” Arvin stepped over to you, about to interject the transaction. The last thing he wanted was you spending more money on him.  

“Tickets.” You said as if it were obvious.

“To what?” He asked, confused. 

You turned around, two tickets in hand, with a smile, “Do you not know where we are yet?” Arvin slowly shook his head, wondering why he was supposed to. “We’re at the Empire State Building!” 

Arvin had heard of the building, even seen pictures of it in a history book one time, but he really didn’t know much about it. Big cities had never been his interest but seeing the way your eyes lit up with excitement to show him made all reservations melt. 

The elevator ride up was nerve wracking to say the least. It wasn’t severe but Arvin had developed minor PTSD from the war. He’d seen many men get killed or trapped, dragged away and unable to escape. This metal death box traveling up hundreds of stories made him feel trapped. He hadn’t noticed that he started rocking back and forth on his heels, gripping his own biceps, until you put a gentle hand on his arm, “You okay?” 

With a shaky breath, Arvin nodded and put on a smile, “Yeah. Elevators just make me kinda nervous.” 

The elevator stopped at one level but you dragged him up several flights of stairs to get to the very top where you could stand on the balcony. 

It was fairly busy but not unenjoyably so. “Okay, come over here!” Yet again, Arvin found himself being led by you to the very edge, leaning on the high railing. “What do you think?” 

It was breathtaking, beyond anything Arvin had ever seen. The sun was now setting, casting a warm orange-pink hugh on the city. The buildings and streets were illuminated with tiny lights, creating a sea of little flickering stars. In the far distance, the ocean stretched on for miles. Even the sky was beginning to try and match the city, though the few stars that were beginning to peek through the sunset were nearly drowned out by the light of the city. 

“It’s amazin’.” Arvin sighed out, almost overwhelmed. So this was the world outside of Coal Creek?

“Isn’t it something?” Arvin glanced down to see you looking down at the city with such adoration. A warm, orange glow cast across your face, accenting every beautiful feature. But then you turned to face him and he nearly stopped breathing. He knew from the first moment he met you that you were an attractive woman but you looked absolutely radiant now. 

Tension began to rise when you realized how close you were to the man. Your hips were almost touching as you stood side by side. Your hands were mere centimeters apart on the safety railing. 

Arvin could have gotten lost in your eyes but you tore your gaze away, returning it to the city. Instead, you slowly inched your hand towards his until your fingers touched his, testing the waters. He tensed up, looking down to see your fingers nudging his. He glanced back over at you to see your eyes flick questioningly to his. 

Arvin closed the gap between you, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your heart fluttered out of your chest when you felt him pull you ever so slightly closer to him. Your head rested on his shoulder and your free hand came up to grab his arm. 

“Y’know, if changing strangers’ tires is gonna turn out like this, I’m gonna have to start doin’ it more often.” He teased but his voice sounded sincere. Of all the possibilities that today had, this was not one that he had imagined when he left base this morning. Holding onto a beautiful girl at the top of the Empire State Building seemed like something out of a movie, not something that happened to real people. 

The sun fully set and the stars came out, rivaling the city lights in a display of firework-like sparkles. The full moon acted almost as a spot light in the dark sky, drawing your attention. Arvin had no idea how long the two of you had been standing there but he felt like he could stand there for forever. 

Eventually, you shifted against his side and your voice popped up, soft and quiet, “Hey, Arvin?” 

“Hm?” 

“Maybe we can see each other again?” You twisted in his grasp, which had now traveled to be around your shoulders. Now you looked straight up at him, faces only a small distance apart. 

The corners of Arvin’s lips turned up, “I’d like that.” 

Your arms were wrapped around his torso and his arms were encasing your body, resting on your upper back. Arvin’s eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes and back down again, as if asking for permission before going in. Both of you slowly inched towards each other before your lips touched in the middle. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against yours in the sweet, slow kiss. 

When you pulled away, neither of you opened your eyes for a few moments, just resting your foreheads against each other. “Call me a fool for falling for a girl I just met but I think I like you.” Arvin admitted with a satisfied smile, pulling you closer to him. 

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Not According To Plan

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Reader

Word Count: 1,557

TW: none really, just a very brief mention of assault and crime scene photos?

A/N: A follow up to Almost Perfect, but can be read as a stand alone. Just a whole lot of fluff, (sorry, not sorry if it's so sweet it rots your teeth. I still like a sweet, romantic Frederick) This was originally supposed to cover the Cuddling square for #thatesqcrush Valentine's Day Bingo, but it kept getting pushed to the back-burner, and by the time I started working on it again, I knew it wasn't going to be done in time. But I wanted to finish it and get it posted before moving on to something else, so here it is. Better late than never?

Tags: @madamsnape921 (If anyone wants to be tagged in a future fic post, please let me know!)

It was safe to say that your first Valentine’s Day with Frederick Chilton wasn’t going the way you had hoped it would. It had started off well enough, with the both of you waking up early and making love before work, but once you had arrived at work, everything had gone downhill quickly. Yes, Frederick had a bouquet of red roses delivered to your office, but you barely had any time to enjoy them, as you had to rush to finish up a report for the board that wasn’t supposed to have been due until the following week. Then Jack Crawford and Will Graham had showed up needing a psychiatric consult for a new case. The crime scene photos were so gruesome you had rush to the ladies’ room to throw up. The final straw had been when one your patients had attacked you during a therapy session. Thankfully, you knew how to defend yourself and you’d had an orderly with you. You came away from it with a few bumps and bruises and a cut on your cheek. But you were shaken up enough that Frederick had insisted that you go home and relax, promising that he’d finish up his own work and join you as soon as possible.

And now it was going on 4pm and you were standing at the living room window of Frederick’s, no, your house, you lived here now, gazing out at the front yard and street, wishing for Frederick’s car to come into view. He had called you 30 minutes ago to let you know he was leaving the hospital but had a stop to make. The weather forecast was calling for a snowstorm to blow in that evening, and the snow was already starting to fall. You didn’t want Frederick to get caught driving in that. You shivered, feeling the chill through the glass.

You felt something small and furry brush against leg and looked down, smiling when you saw the black kitten looking up at you. She placed her front paws on your leg and meowed, signaling that she wanted “up”. You knelt down and picked her up, snuggling her against your chest. She nuzzled her nose against your chin and let out another soft meow.

“I know, Buttercup, I know, baby, I’m worried about Daddy, too.” You took one last look, then closed the heavy curtains to better insulate the room. You crossed the room to the thermostat and turned up the heat, and then went to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine to calm your nerves.

You and Frederick had been together for about 6 months now, and they’d been the happiest months of your life. Ever since that eventful first date the previous summer, you and Frederick had been practically inseparable. You had moved in with him after New Year’s, and while you had never moved so fast in your previous relationships, Frederick was different. You were completely in love with him. He was the one, there was no doubt about that in your mind. Whenever you imagined your future, you saw him in it, you saw marriage, kids, all of it.

You had expected him to at least put up an argument when you suggested adopting a cat, but your dear, sweet man couldn’t deny you anything. Instead, he started researching what kind of supplies you’d need and looking at the local animal shelter websites to see what your options were. And that was how you found Buttercup. From the moment you saw her picture, you just knew. And when you went to the shelter and held her for the very first time, she fell asleep and started purring. She went home with you that day. She’d only been with you for a few weeks now, but she was already settled in and followed you and Frederick everywhere. She always wanted to cuddle and that suited you and Frederick just fine.

You wanted nothing more than to be cuddled up with Frederick right now. The perfect Valentine’s Day that you had planned was falling apart. The elaborate meal you were going to prepare? You were too tired to cook. That new lingerie you bought? You were no longer in the mood to wear it, or for sex. You would stick with your hoodie and soft, knit lounge pants tonight. Your stomach growled, and your mind went to the desert that you had prepared the night before. The red velvet cake trifle with the raspberry/blackberry red wine reduction sauce was chilling in the fridge.

“Should I?” You asked, looking down at Buttercup, still nestled in your arms.

“Mew?” she replied, looking confused. Then her eyes went to the drawstring on your hoodie and she began batting at it with her paw. “Mew…” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re absolutely right, sweetie, I think some playtime is definitely warranted.”

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

Buttercup wiggled her backside and pounced, her tiny paws swiping at the oversize peacock feather you were dangling in front of her. You laughed as she grabbed onto it and tried to bite down. When you tried to pull it away, she rolled over onto her back and started kicking it with her hind paws. It was one of the cutest sights in the world and you couldn’t get enough. Seeing her so happy made you happy. You both jumped when you heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps and a cane clicking on the hardwood floor.

“Darling?”

You breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Frederick’s voice. Buttercup went bounding to meet to him and you got up and followed, smiling when you saw Frederick hanging up his coat in the entryway closet. Buttercup was welcoming him home by weaving around his legs, meowing her little head off.

“Hmm…fascinating…” Frederick nodded in reply to the kitten, “and then what did you do today?”

You heart swelled at the sight. You loved the way he interacted with her and spoke to her like she was a human. It made you wonder what he would be like with a little one of your own…He met your gaze and you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Thank god, your home! I was so worried about you getting stuck in the snow!”

His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him. “There is no snowstorm powerful enough to keep me away from you, my love. Forgive me for not getting here sooner. The roads are already a mess, and you said you didn’t feel like cooking, so I picked up some takeout.” He indicated two brown paper bags sitting on the small table by the front door.

You looked up at him and smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I love you.”

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too, Y/N, and I never get tired of hearing it. How are you feeling?”

“Much better now that you’re home.”

Frederick wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. All the tension melted out of your body as you got lost in the warm sensation. All of his kisses were loving and passionate, and this was no different, his lips melding perfectly with yours. You gently started to run your tongue all his lower lip, intending to deepen the kiss, but were interrupted by a loud yowl and Buttercup headbutting you in the shin. You and Frederick looked down and saw her staring back, giving you the most forlorn look that she could muster

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we haven’t forgotten about you,” you reassured her. “Do you want your dinner?”

“Mew! Mew!” She answered, insistently rubbing against your leg.

You looked back at Frederick. “I’m going to get her taken care of, then we’ll eat, okay?”

Frederick nodded and kissed you one more time. “I’ll get the food plated while you do that.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You rested your forehead against his, hesitant to let him go.

“My love? Is everything alright?”

“Are you okay if we just cuddle on the couch tonight? I just…I just really need you to hold me.”

Frederick placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and gave you a warm smile. “As you wish, my love.”

“Did you just…”

“Yes, I did,” he replied with a chuckle. “Cuddling on the couch sounds perfect. Whatever make you happy is more than fine with me.”

“Thank you,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss. “I love you, Frederick.”

“I love you, too, my darling.”

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

“So, do you think it will snow enough that we won’t have to go into work tomorrow?”

“One can only hope, my love,” Frederick answered, kissing your temple.

The two of you were cuddled on the couch under a blanket watching your favorite movie. You were curled up on your side with Frederick spooning you from behind, his arms wrapped around your mid-section. Buttercup was snuggled up in front of you, purring away.

“This is perfect,” you remarked, turning your head to glance back at Frederick. “I mean, this isn’t how I thought our first Valentine’s Day would go, but I’m happy, nonetheless. I love you, Frederick.”

“I love you, too, Y/N, Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Bloody Mary

Warnings: Blood

Summary: You find yourself on Hannibal’s menu. Unfortunate for him that you’re not easy prey.

Characters: Hannibal + Vampire Reader (Gender Neutral)

Words: 3,537

Hannibal rested back against his kitchen counter, humming a quiet tune as he flicked through his recipe box. Whatever recipes he ultimately settled on making you into needed to be perfect. You deserve only the best recipes, and the recipes must deserve you, too. 

You and Hannibal met two weeks ago, when he accompanied Jack Crawford to your little classroom in the local college to ask about some strange symbols that were found at a recent crime scene. He was there to create an on-the-go profile of you for Jack, something that the FBI agent had started doing when some little bird whispered worrying things into his ears at night and made him paranoid that no one could be trusted.

Despite being experienced at profiling, Hannibal had great difficulty reading you. In fact, he wasn’t able to read you at all. He was too distracted by… well, you. He didn’t know if you had the same effect on Jack, but your very presence caused Hannibal’s head to spin. There was something about the way you moved, the way you talked, your scent, your smile… your eyes, god, your eyes. When you shook Hannibal’s hand, you looked straight through him. You looked into him, peeled back the curtains and gazed at his very soul as if it was as easy for you as making a cup of coffee. His heart had caught in his chest, and there was, momentarily, a very real fear that you knew exactly who and what he was.

Was this why he decided then and there that he was going to kill you and eat you? It may have contributed to the decision, as well as the certain level of arrogance that you carried, safely tucked under your jacket. As he thought about it more and more afterward, though, he came to the realization that it wasn’t fear that drove this decision, nor was it a dislike, or the belief that you were rude. You weren’t. Arrogant, yes, but not rude. You were perfectly pleasant. In the end, he concluded that it was desire that made the gears in his head turn toward your demise. You smelled divine, you had soft skin, a strong body. You were intoxicating- perfect - and he wanted to devour you in the most literal sense of the word.

With a pleased sigh, he closed his recipe box and returned it to its rightful place on the counter, then checked the time. It was nearly 11pm. He should go to bed, he knew, but his mind was racing with thoughts and plans. It was far too busy up in his head for him to be able to sleep. Instead, he stretched, poured himself a glass of red wine, and headed for his study, where he sat at his desk, retrieved a pen and paper, and began to write.

“Agent Crawford, Dr Lecter. Good to see you’re both well.”

You greeted Jack and Hannibal with a dazzling smile and a handshake, then motioned to the twin chairs in front of your desk.

“Make yourselves comfortable, please.”

Jack obeyed, but Hannibal couldn’t. He couldn’t look at you without thinking of your flesh in his mouth, so he wandered over to a nearby bookshelf and absentmindedly browsed the array of titles, his focus on the conversation behind him.

“What do you have for us, Professor?” Jack asked pleasantly, and Hannibal glanced behind him only long enough to see you take a seat in your expensive desk chair and open an old tome to a marked page, which you then spun around to show Jack.

He kept one ear on the conversation, but didn’t hear much. His head was swimming again, confirming that your presence was the source of the problem and not the vanilla body spray you had been wearing the day he met you, but were not wearing today. Before he knew it, Jack was clapping him on the shoulder to get his attention and thanking you for your help. 

“It’s my pleasure, Agent Crawford.” You had come around to stand on their side of the desk, hands tucked into your pockets. “I’ll help in any way I can. I want to see whoever is doing this caught and cuffed. Not only are they killing innocent people, but they’re playing with things they shouldn’t be. They’re a danger to everyone. You have my number, so please don’t hesitate to call if you need me. I’m available any time of the day or night.”

“I appreciate that, Professor. Truly. It seems like it’s getting harder and harder to come across good people nowadays.”

You nodded solemnly. “You two be well. And stay warm out there; the forecast calls for snow this weekend.”

Jack chuckled. “You too.”

He strode from the room without looking back, sure that Hannibal would follow. He would, in a moment, but he needed to talk to you first. He took in a deep breath to try and clear his head and stopped before you with a gentle smile.

“Did you get my invitation?” he asked.

You nodded and offered him a smile to match his own. “I did, and as honored as I would be to join you for dinner, I’m afraid I can’t. I have a very strict diet, one that I know that you won’t be able to provide for. I am truly sorry.”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, only the barest gesture to indicate that he wasn’t sure he believed what you were telling him. 

“Whatever your special diet is, I am sure that I would be able to accommodate. I am quite the skilled chef. I can make anything you should request of me.”

You tilted your head as well, a perfect mirror to Hannibal. “I’m sorry,” is all you said, and the last you would say on that matter. He returned home that night, disgruntled and inconvenienced, but not put off in the slightest. There was always the chance that you would decline his invitation, and so he would have to find another way to get you to his house. If you wouldn’t join him as a guest, kidnapping was always an option.

It wasn’t difficult for Hannibal to discover that you stay on campus late into the night, and sometimes all night. Jack had been very useful in uncovering information about you, even if he was ignorant of the fact that it would be used against you. You have many admirers at the college, both students and colleagues, you work hard, you rarely sleep, you arrive early and stay late, or you don’t arrive at all. The days when you don’t arrive, it’s as if you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth. No one knows when you’re about to take one of your impromptu vacations, or where you go when you do, and quite frankly, everyone is too afraid to ask, though they wouldn’t tell Jack why.

He decided, after a few days of contemplation and careful planning, that taking you late one night would be the best decision. There would be no one else on the campus, at least not anywhere near your office, and no one would question your sudden disappearance if that was something you did frequently anyway. He scouted the parking lots before hand, thought through all of his tools to decide what would be best for knocking you out, made sure his car’s back seat would fit you comfortably, and prepared you a place in his house, where you would stay, alive and healthy, as he slowly cut you apart, piece by piece, meal by meal, to devour you.

When the night finally came to pay you a visit, large snowflakes fell gracefully from a black, moonless sky, the stars beyond obscured by thick clouds. The parking lot was sparsely lit by dim street lights placed few and far between, and they illuminated the snow that had begun to stick to the ground. Hannibal would have to hurry. He didn’t want his footprints giving him away. 

He strode purposefully across the blacktop, using his phone to light the way, until he came to one of the college’s ornate side doors and the steps leading up to it. He tucked his phone into his pocket, pulled on his black gloves, and tried the door. Locked. He expected this, which is why he had stolen your key earlier in the week. He retrieved the key from the inside pocket of his coat and unlocked the door with a soft click. He opened it and stepped inside, then closed it quietly against the cold outside.

It was much warmer in here, comfortable, and the hall was dimly lit with the emergency lights that the school keeps on during the off-hours to deter intruders. He had stared at the college’s blueprints so often and for so long since deciding he would have you, that he knew the way to your office like the back of his hand, despite never reaching it from this entrance before. Down the hall, take a right, go up the stairs, another right, two lefts, and yours was the office tucked at the end of the corridor.

There were no windows in this hallway, and thus no emergency lights. The walk to the thick walnut door that closed off your little sanctuary from the rest of the campus was done in darkness, and Hannibal’s shoes made no sound on the tile floor as he approached. He never gets nervous before a kill, but tonight, he had to pause and steady himself before he finally raised his knuckles to the wood and rapped three times.

“Come in,” your voice answered from inside.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The large room was dark. The only light came from the lamp sitting on your desk that illuminated a large, ancient-looking tome open on the surface, and you sitting behind it with your hand on the page.

He stepped inside and offered a polite smile. 

“Hello. You didn’t hesitate when you heard the knock. Are you expecting someone?”

You chuckled and leaned back in your chair to stretch.

“No, but this isn’t the first time I’ve had a visitor at one in the morning. Although uncommon, it does happen. Usually it’s one of my students, though. Please, come in. And feel free to turn on the light.”

Hannibal flicked the lightswitch and closed the door behind him, then strode forward, taking a moment to study his surroundings. A bust of an unknown figure by the window, thick curtains, fireplace tools… all things you could use against him should this go poorly.

“Are you fond of the dark, Professor?” he asked as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from you.

“Yes, I am. The lights give me a headache,” you smile.

“Well, I won’t be here for long, and I’ll be sure to turn them off when I leave.” He returns the smile.

“What can I help you with, Doctor?” you ask as you mark the page you were studying in the book, close it, and scoot it aside.

“I was on my way home and thought I’d stop by. There are some things about these murders that have struck my curiosity.”

He meant the recent string of homicides that you were consulting with the FBI on, of course. 

“The kind of curiosity that I can help with?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, perhaps. Agent Crawford came to you because you teach a course on occult studies. You know the symbols that were carved into the victims, drawn on the walls in blood, scribbled on the floors…”

“And is it those symbols that you’re curious about?”

“I’m curious about all of it, Professor.”

You and he talked for quite some time, far longer than he expected to. He supposed that kidnapping you would take him all of fifteen minutes if all went well, but when he looked at the clock on the wall behind you, it had been over an hour and he hadn’t even considered what he had gone there to do yet. He had to admit to himself later that he enjoyed your company and the conversation; not only the topic, but how passionate and insightful you were about your work, and how excited you seemed to be to teach someone something new. He supposed he knew why you became a teacher, then. Eventually, an opportunity arose, and he knew he had to cut the conversation short and take it, or he would leave there without his prize.

He asked you the specifics of the origin of the ritual that the murderer had seemingly been trying to perform, and you rose from your chair with a grin.

“I have a book here that explains it in great detail that I would be willing to let you borrow. Let me just find it.”

You strode around your desk and made your way behind Hannibal to the massive bookshelf on the far left wall. It was as you searched the titles for the one you needed that he pushed himself to his feet and strode quickly toward you. He wanted to strangle you, not enough to kill you, of course, just enough to knock you out. He wanted to feel you in his arms, squirming, writhing, choking, struggling to breathe, fighting to free yourself. He wanted to feel your heart pounding in your chest as fear flooded your senses. He wanted to smell your delicious aroma as your body went limp in his arms. He wanted to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck as you finally fell unconscious.

He darted forward, like a viper striking its prey, but instead of wrapping his arm around your neck, he felt a shove between his shoulder blades and then the sting of a nearly broken nose as the bookshelf came forward to meet him. He managed to maintain his footing, and spun around with his hand covering his nose, eyes watering from the pain, to press his back against the books and steady himself. You stood before him, and he watched as your soft, friendly smile twisted into a wicked grin, and those gentle eyes that seemed to see all went dark, your gaze morphing into something predatory. 

It took him longer than he liked to admit to realize what had just happened. The speed with which you stepped out of the way and spun around to shove him into the bookcase was nearly inhuman. 

“To be entirely honest, Dr Lecter… I expected more. I expected a challenge.”

Hannibal only blinked in response, confused and unsure how to proceed. He hadn’t accounted for this.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” You took a step forward. “I know you came here to kill me, Doctor, but you’re going to have to try a bit harder than that.”

“I didn’t come here to kill you,” he mumbled through his hand as blood from his nose began to seep between his fingers and drip onto your carpet.

You clicked your tongue as you watched the crimson droplets fall. “That’s gonna stain,” you growled.

That’s when Hannibal’s survival instincts kicked in. He retrieved his knife from his pants pocket and flicked it open. A crude weapon, yes, but effective. He managed to clear the tears from his eyes and accept the pain in his nose well enough to remove his hand. And then he struck. Or, he tried. You dodged effortlessly out of the way, not only of his first attack, but of his second as well, and then his third, his fourth, fifth, sixth. It was as if you knew every move he was going to make before he did.

“Come on, Doctor Lecter. You’re a killer. Kill me.”

Mocking… you were mocking him. He sneered and adjusted his grip on the knife’s hilt.

“You know, Professor… mocking is rude.”

He lunged again, missing your cheek by a fraction of a centimeter, and then your neck by just an inch on the backstroke. Strike after strike was either dodged or blocked, and then suddenly, you were on the offensive. 

You landed a jab to his ribs, and then another to the other side. You shoved your foot behind his heel as he stumbled back, and he fell back against the window. The cold of the glass sent a shiver down his spine despite his wool coat… or maybe it was the sudden realization of the situation he’d found himself in. You held him against the window with an arm across his chest while the other curled around the fist that held the knife and pinned it flat, immobilizing the only method of attack he had. The thick curtains and the bust were too far for him to reach, and your hips were against his, rendering his legs useless.

Hannibal panted hard, struggling to catch his breath after expending far too much energy trying to wound you. You, on the other hand, hadn’t even broken a sweat. Despite dodging every attack he had made, you weren’t breathing hard. He furrowed his brow. You weren’t… breathing. He couldn’t feel your breath on his face, your chest wasn’t rising and falling. He was imagining things, surely. You were just breathing lightly. That must be it.

“That was much better, Doctor Lecter, thank you for the exercise. I’ve been sitting in that chair for far too many days and nights. I’ve been needing a good fight to wake me up, and here you are providing one. Now tell me… if you weren’t here to kill me, then why creep up behind me?”

“You didn’t accept my invitation,” he panted.

You smirked. “So you were going to knock me over the head and drag me home, was that it?”

“Not knock you over the head. I was going to suffocate you.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t have done much, Doctor. But to be fair, neither would knocking me over the head, so I suppose you chose what you thought was the best option.”

His nose and ribs were throbbing, and all the late hours preparing for this night seemed to catch up to him all at once. He was exhausted. “What happens now?” he asked quietly, gazing into those cold, dark eyes of yours. “Will you kill me? Toss me from this window? Use my own knife to gut me?”

You chuckled and released him, but remained close. “Eventually, perhaps, but now. That would be too easy. Boring.”

“So you release me and revel in the terror I feel, looking over my shoulder every second of every day, waiting for the knife in the dark?”

“That’s a wonderful way to put it. Yes, I think I like that idea.”

He grins weakly, exhaustion evident on his bloody face. “And what makes you think you’ll be able to get to me? What would you do, I wonder, If I told Agent Crawford that you are the one doing all of these ritual murders?”

“He would believe you, I’m sure, but it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to slaughter an angry mob that came banging on my door.”

Hannibal scoffs. “You think you can stand against an army of armed and armored law enforcement?”

You only smiled, not the wicked grin, nor the soft smile from earlier, but something altogether different. Something… bone-chilling.

“I want to show you something, Dr Lecter.”

Gently, you reached out and took hold of his wrist, his arm and his knife long since fallen to hang loosely at his side. Your black gaze bored into him as you raised his hand and pressed the edge of the blade to your throat. 

“Cut,” you ordered.

“You want me to kill you?”

“You won’t kill me. Now cut.”

Something happened in his head when you gave the command the second time, as if you had taken hold of his strings to puppet him. He didn’t want to, truly, and he didn’t understand why you were ordering him to, but he couldn’t stop himself. He drew the blade across your neck, cutting deep.

There was no gush of blood, no choking, no stumbling back, no terror in your eyes. You stood there, calm and collected, with that not-quite-right smile as blood slowly oozed out of the wound and ran down your neck. And then, the unexplainable happened. Your wound began to heal. Hannibal watched, eyes wide, as the gash slowly knit itself back together, until it was as if he had never cut you in the first place. Not even a scar remained as evidence of the deed.

He understood all too well in this moment that what he had gotten himself into this time was far too deep to ever get out of. His heart beat frantically in his chest, his breathing was heavy and ragged, adrenaline flooded his veins. He swallowed hard.

“What are you?” he tried to ask calmly, but his words came out as barely a whisper. 

Your lips twisted into a deadly grin and you leaned forward. You took in a deep breath, breathing in his scent. Then, you whispered into his ear.

“My dear Doctor… I’m your worst nightmare.”

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 22

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

AN: It has been a while and i can only apologise. Hopefully i’ll be getting back into the swing of things :)

…..

Chapter 22

Gloria had been hesitant while helping me bathe and dress into something cleaner and more to Frank's standard. A million questions held on her tongue that she didn't dare let pass but I could sense the main question from the look in her eyes alone.

What have they done to you?

No doubt any whispers passed from one hand to another within these walls would be ones of worry. Believing me to be suffering at the hands of a ruthless and blood-hungry gang and that any attempt of freedom or escape would be futile. Even though the questions may be burning on her tongue, she didn't speak a word of them. The silence was suffocating.

Frank had asked me to attend dinner with him that evening, and breakfast the next morning, and every meal in the days that followed. Keeping me sat by his side and making sure I ate everything that was put in front of me. He would talk of how thankful he is to have me back where I would be safe. How those degenerates should suffer for even thinking I belonged to them. My replies would always be short and stoic to give off the impression that I am still processing and healing from my traumatic time with the group. To give nothing away. As he would ramble on about his business booming and some potential deals to be had (always lacking in details. The matter of business was too confusing for women, after all) his voice would eventually fade into the distance. Only the sounds of the grandfather clock in the hall or Gloria washing dishes in the kitchen could be heard.

I tried to listen for more. The crackling of logs on a fire, water in the distance, birds overhead, horses talking to one another, knives on a butcher's table...voices. Javier's singing, Seans chatter, Mary Beth's distracted humming, Uncle's piss drunk snoring, Grimshaws barking, Jack's laughter as he played. I could barely hear it all within the depths of my mind, trying to pull it forward and let it consume me with little success. The silence was drowning.

I looked upon my plate, half-eaten roasted mutton with fresh vegetables with sauce. Wine and water beside the plate. The finest money could buy. It was tasteless.

It was then, seeing Frank looking at me out of the corner of my eye, that he had said my name.

“Sorry?”

“I asked you a question,”

“I apologise, what was it? I was a little lost in my own head for a moment.”

“I noticed. No matter now.” He kept his eyes on me as I nodded and looked back to my plate.

“May I be excused?” I looked at him once more, searching his eyes for any emotion that would give away his answer.

After a few moments of silence, he simply said “Eat,” as he returned his attention back to his own plate. A silent show of dominance that meant don’t push the matter. I did anyway.

“I would like to visit the stables before retiring to bed. I’m afraid I can't eat much more.”

He didn't look away from his plate, chewing on the roasted meat like it had wronged him, his eyes going distant as if in deep thought. Setting his jaw as he swallowed, no doubt his teeth grinding together similar to his cutlery across his plate.

He was getting frustrated, which I could easily tell.

Before this would be when i would back down, hell, i wouldn’t have even asked twice beforehand, but now, this time i kept firm. My pleading eyes locked on his face until I got an answer. Since my arrival, I made sure to be in bed long before he would be. Mostly pretending I was within the depths of sleep by the time he would join. Each night the stench of alcohol was strong on him, but he never woke me.

I had only had the chance to visit the stables on our land to visit Orion once in the week I have been here. Frank wouldn’t let me out of his sight for more than a few moments, only retreating to his office when I was under the watch of Gloria or already in bed. I currently wasn’t able to even walk the grounds for fresh air without somebody accompanying me. But still, as I looked to him, I kept firm. Making it clear that at this moment in time, and any moment in the future, I will not cower.

“Go.” He said eventually, sending one glance my way as I stood without any hesitation.

The sun had not long set and the moon now taking her place as I made my way to the stables.

I could hear Samson whistling himself a tune from within the building before I approached. He would be cleaning up as well as giving what horses we had the once over before finishing for the day.

He stopped what he was doing as he saw me approach, sending a smile my way before carrying on with his sweeping of the dusty floors. The stables currently held three horses, including my own, but there was space for eight in total. I missed spending most of my afternoons with the gentle beasts. Tending to their needs and making sure they were well and truly pampered all the while they provided me with an escape. A bit of peace.

“How is she doing, Sam?” I asked as I made my way over to Orion. Her head bobbing up and down at my arrival, fresh hay hanging from her mouth.

“She’s been no bother, Miss. Think she’s itching to stretch her legs proper though.” Sam replied with a shout from wherever he was in the stable.

“Soon my darling. Promise I'll try to get you out soon,” I murmured to her, giving some tender scratches along her nose as her head leaned over her door, which gave me some nudges with her head in return.

A knot formed in my stomach just knowing she must be getting frustrated being locked away. I knew the feeling too well but she deserved a few laps around the grounds more than I did. I chose to come back, I brought her here. She wasn’t going to be a prisoner too. Maybe Sam could accompany me one day if he had the free time to do so. Maybe I could just tell Frank that I have to take her out for her sake. See how well that goes and test the limits at the same time.

“Erm, Miss,” Sam's voice pulled my attention. I didn't even hear him approach until he spoke.

I glanced at him, wondering if something was wrong coming from the nervous look in his eyes and the way he held himself.

“I’m needing to fetch some fresh water. Will you be joining?”

I couldn’t help but smile despite what he was actually saying.

I’ve been told I can't leave you alone.

“It’s okay Sam, you won’t be but a couple of minutes anyway. I’ll be right here with her.”

I said before diverting my attention back to Orion as she munched away on her nightly meal.

A silent command to follow.

A could see him fidgeting out of the corner of my eye for a few moments before ultimately deciding he would only be a few minutes and that I wouldn't have time to tack up my mare and escape before he was back. With a nod, he left. I stood at the stable door for a few moments, watching her eat before making my way over to the bucket that held the grooming supplies stationed in front of an empty stall. Might as well give her some proper attention before I left her for the night.

As I went to pick up the bucket, my eye caught movement coming from the single door at the end of the stable, which was open. My heart leapt to my throat as I made out the shadowy figure that stood there. Backlit by the moonlight but not well enough inside to be illuminated by the lanterns. But it wasn’t hard to make out his silhouette.

@kashasenpai @fallout-cowgirl​ @averyspicybaguette​

[spacewhre]

Frankie aka “Catfish” Morales NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Sleepy. After a good round, Frankie is exhausted, he’ll make sure your cleaned up before he crawls back into bed and cuddles you. (Frankie so hesitant to admit it but he loves being the little spoon, there’s something about your figure curled around him that makes him feel oh so safe.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Frankie loves your chest, he loves to rest his head there and listen to your heartbeat, he’s like a big baby, the gentle thump thump of your heart and your rhythmic breathing make him feel safe. He’s always in awe of how soft you are and will subconsciously rubs small circles on your wrist, ribs, neck while getting lost in thought.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

He’ll never finish before you, he wants you to be fucked out before he’ll let himself go, and when he does, he likes to be inside you, you use protection of course, but sometimes you beg him to finish on your chest.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Praise. Frankie loves it when you tell him how much you like his cock. He practically melts every time you moan from pleasure, practically gets off on making you feel good. In the moment, anything you say goes straight to his cock, the little “yes”s you pant out, or the sweet nothings that spill from your lips still send butterflies into this man’s stomach.

(See kink for more)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced. He hasn’t had many partners, but he learned how to please though porn. you were even surprised the first time he went down on you, he lapped at you like his life depended on it, and afterwards you couldn’t believe it when he told you that he rarely got the chance to go down on his previous partner.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Frankie is a sucker for missionary, he loves to look into your eyes and run his hands through your hair. That being said, he’s also a huge fan of taking you from the side, spooning you as he slowly thrusts between your clenched thighs

You love to hear his obscene groan as you finally let him enter you. At this angle, you hear and feel his hot breath against your ear, sometimes he even nibbles it, that makes you giggle.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Frankie isn’t too serious, but he loves to make things romantic and tender. Sometimes you’ll be fooling around and bodily functions happen, you’ll both giggle like teenagers, but it never offends anyone.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Frankie never thought about grooming until he got into serous relationships, as a single man, he keeps things clean, but when he’s with you, he’ll keep it short and neat.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...) 

This man is very intimate, in fact, the first time you two we’re together, he almost blurted out his love for you fight there and then. The sight of your body splayed out on the white sheets made his heart almost burst, instead of dying right there and then, he kissed the life out of you. Even farther into your relationship, you’ve never lost the passion, he’s a sappy kinda guy, and still feels sparks fly whenever you’re around him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Frankie loves porn. Not the bad kind though, Over the years he’s refined his tastes, sometimes even paying for subscription based sex work. Don’t get me wrong, if given the opportunity he’d rather be with you, but sometimes he enjoys taking the time to please himself, this is his time to be selfish, naughty even.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise. Praise makes Frankie combust. Hearing you beg for him, or tell him just how good he is drives him crazy. Every compliment makes his cock twitch, and when you catch him off guard and say something really filthy, it’s takes all his self restraint not to cum there and then.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

bed. To be honest he just feels weird doing it anywhere else.

Occasionally he’ll fuck you in his truck, especially if you say something that gets him going.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You. Specifically your thighs. He loves having them wrap around his back as he eats you out, and how they quiver and shake before you cum.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Frankie is not a fan of being called daddy. It makes him feel weird. He imagines having kids of his own one day, and dosent want to associate the word with anything sexual.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Frankie loves eating pussy. He lives for it, that man devours you like it’s his last meal at any given chance. Hell, he’s definitely cum in his pants just at the sight, sound, and taste of you. That man knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he isn’t the most experienced. Also he loves to suck your clit and watch you tremble with overstimulation

Frankie does like getting head too, his favorite is when you come around and sink to your knees out of the blue. Just to make him feel good. (Also you’ve definitely given him road head, resulting in a dent on the back of his trunk.. )

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and steady wins the race. This man has control, he’ll fuck two or three orgasms into you before he lets himself go.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He rather take the time to worship you properly, but that dosent mean that he’s not opposed to a quickie.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Frankie is open to spicing things up (in fact he’s mentioned significant interest in a threesome.. the idea of being pleasured by you and another man is something he thinks about.. a lot)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Frankie is really good at holding it together and fucking a couple orgasms into you before he lets himself spill. But when he’s between your legs, this man absolutely looses it, he’ll cum from eating you out, and he’s not even embarrassed by it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Frankie is willing to use a wand on you, he likes how the vibrations travel down whiles you’re around his cock, but he prefers to use his hands.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not a tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Surprisingly, Frankie is very vocal. He’ll grunt and groan and make incredibly erotic moans while inside you. When he gets especially worked up, he becomes completely pussy drunk and babble absolute nonsense.

Sometimes he’ll murmer some praises in Spanish while you suck him off, but you’ve never been able to make out what he’s saying

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Frankie is definitely bi curious. He definitely has a preference for women, but he has sucked a dick or two in his life, and has really enjoyed it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s not especially long, but he’s thick. The farther down you go, the harder it is for you to wrap your hand around him..

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Normal, he’s pretty contained when it comes to his sex drive, and dosent think with his dick.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Quickly. Fucking you wears him out, after you’re all cleaned up and content, he’ll pass out with his head against your chest, your heartbeat lulling him off into a deep sleep

That was my first attempt at smut.. hopefully practice makes perfect!

@zeldasayer

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Pairing: Wren Blackwell x Jonah Clemence

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @starry-starry-night24​ @youreawizardharr​  (please let me know if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Day 4 of the 12 Days of OCmas! Are Wren and Jonah as Star Crossed and Wren believes?

The tinkling of the bell above the door signaled their arrival. Too early for incoming influx of captains and merchants with documents to be reviewed and approved. Another two hours should have been free to work on overhauling the filing system that her boss had struggled to keep in order. She didn’t need to rush after hearing her son exclaim the visitor’s names.

“Uncle Fenrir! Uncle Ray!” The ten-year old’s voice echoed through the small building laced with surprise and joy. Abandoning his schoolwork for a chance to spend time with his two uncles. Amber eyes sparkled up at the two. Rarely did he get a visit from his family.

Fenrir beamed a grin at him, accepting the welcoming hug. “Reece, ya got taller!” He stopped by any time he came down to the ports, pitching in to help if Wren needed it.

Which meant today must be business. Never did Ray come by her work without warning. Placing down the files in their proper piles, Wren maneuvered through the chaos to emerge from the office. “Reece, you can go out for a break.” She didn’t want him to hear any military discussions, lest he want to join.

“Come on, I’ll buy ya a treat if it’s alright with your mom,” Fenrir offered to the eager boy, glancing to her for the okay.

It was like looking at two needy puppies. “That’s fine.” As Reece raced out the front door, Wren called to the ace with a serious tone. “No guns this time. I’ll kick your ass if you even think about it.”

She received a salute paired with wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“This time?” Ray questioned, emerald eyes moving from the vacant doorway to his sister.

“Reece is becoming increasingly interested in weapons ever since he was allowed to shoot Fenrir’s gun,” Wren replied with irritation. She’d agreed to teaching her son a little hand-to-hand combat for self-defense. At no point, had permission been given for him to wield a weapon.

Ray chuckled at her frown. “I count myself lucky that Fenrir came away in one piece.” His memories of a protective older sister when they were but children resurfaced with nostalgia. Though she came across as calm and collected, she possessed incredible fighting skill that could rival some of his chosen thirteen. 

The army would gain much if Wren agreed to join, but he knew that she would never, not with her son to protect.

The two moved into the messy office for privacy. Wren cleared a spot on the desk to sit while Ray claimed the only empty armchair. “What are you looking for?”

“Shipping manifests that could pass initial inspection but might be importing contraband.”

Wren cast a glance over the organized mess. “I’ll look into it. Though, it will undoubtedly take me a few hours. What is it that’s being smuggled in?” If she had a frame of reference, then it would make the search much easier.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you that.” The investigation now a joint one. He’d have to explain to the Reds why he involved a civilian in a sensitive, top secret mission.

“If I know what I’m looking for, the box size and contents will be much simpler to find.”

Ray shifted to cross his legs, mulling over his options. Trust wasn’t the issue. He knew Wren would be discrete and quick. But involving her meant bringing up her name at the meeting with Red Army late tonight. Was it better to have some information than come up empty with those smug bastards? 

“Stop worrying. I want to help, so let me.”

He sighed. “Tainted magic crystals. They’re small enough to go undetected but a single one can cause massive damage. If the calculations are even slightly correct, the influx that has been reported could destroy half of Cradle. Wren, you don’t have to agree to this. I understand if you want me to walk away.”

A dire situation. Time sensitive.

Wren could see why he’d been hesitant to tell her. Part of her, the mother part, wanted to tell him no. Becoming involved opened her and Reece up to being targets. Her common sense wanted her to walk away.

But Ray would only come to her with something so dangerous if it weren’t his last option.

“I’ll do what I can.” 

The King of Spades relaxed at her agreement. “Thanks, sis. I’ll assign a soldier to keep watch here and at your home. Just as a precaution.” His gaze flickered to the large clock sitting on the wall. They’d made a detour here.

“Go on. I know how busy you are. I’ll come by with whatever I find,” Wren said with a wave of her hand. They hardly saw each other but on a few of his off days.

After the two officers left, Wren gathered all the shipping manifests that were within the last few months to pour over at home. She only took a break to cook a light meal and eat with her son before it was back to examining the documents. 

Night had settled in by the time she discovered anything significant. There were a handful of suspect items that had been flagged, but only one stood out. Regardless of her gut feeling, Wren took all of the evidence and would allow them to mark off the ones that were unneeded.

“Reece, I’m going to take some things to Ray. I’ll be back later-”

“I wanna come!” He cut her off, abandoning his schoolwork to scramble over the back of the couch. Amber eyes as big as a puppy, begging to for permission.

Wren reached out and brushed her hand through his red hair. Normally, it would be alright, but she wanted him nowhere near this case. “Not this time. I won’t be gone long. Stay here, okay?”

“Aww, but mom!” Reece protested with a frown.

“Please don’t fight me on this, Reece.” She pressed a kiss to his head as she gave him a tight hug. To admit it would be too hard, but there were more reasons than simply his safety from outside threats that she worried about.

                                                 << << <<

Soldiers at the gate had redirected her to Central Quarter. The two armies had convened, and she’d have to find Ray there. The neutral zone hadn’t changed much. Wren only came when she absolutely needed to. She’d chosen to live in the port town of Black Territory, far away from anyone in Red Territory.

The meeting had come to a close by the time she arrived. She’d been greeted by the 10 of Spades on his way out with a tip of his hat. Wren stayed in the foyer of the Civic Center, finding a nice pillar to hide behind. The Jacks exited next and following them the Queens.

Their boots were all that echoed throughout the large room. Their dislike for each other well known. As one came to a stop, so did the other. “Who’s there? The Civic Center is closed. You’re trespassing.”

Ten years.

It had been ten years since she’d heard that voice.

And it still caused her heart to throb painfully inside her chest.

His steps grew closer.

If she continued to hide, it would reflect poorly. Wren moved from her spot behind the pillar. With stiff movements, she passed Jonah without a word, instead moving to Sirius. “I brought what the King of Spades asked for. I was only waiting for him to come down.”

“He mentioned that. I’ll deliver them for you.” Sirius took the compiled documents and headed back for the stairs. He cast a worried glance back over his shoulder, but the woman was already heading for the door.

Don’t look back. Keep walking.

Her palm pressed against the door, but cool fingers wrapped around her other wrist. Wren tensed at his touch, wanting to pull away but found herself unable to.

“I’m owed an explanation.”

He was right.

“You drop out of school and disappear for ten years.”

Her reason one that he wouldn’t understand.

“Wren! Look at me!” A gentle, but firm command.

Emerald green met beautiful molten amber.

Wren swallowed down the lump in her throat. It hurt more than she’d imagined it would. Strong emotions that she’d bottled up and shoved deep into her heart, rattled in their cage, threatening to burst out. If they did, she feared she’d lose all control. “We were dumb kids, who didn’t understand that it would never work.”

Not even she believed the words that passed her lips.

“How could you possibly know that?” He wore so many emotions. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She’d vanished. The day prior they were sneaking off during a break to be alone, and the next, gone. No explanation. No note. “I searched for you. I went into Black Territory against my families wishes-”

His family the catalyst of her disappearance.

But she couldn’t reveal that.

“Jonah, we’re different people now. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and if we’re being completely honest, the Queen of Hearts could never be with the King of Spades older sister. One thing or another always got in our way.” Whether it be his family or the Red Territory fan girls who hounded her for even speaking to him back in school. His duties joining the army would have broken them apart, and once Ray became the King, that would have done them in as well. “It’s for the best.”

He was still the Jonah she’d fallen in love with. His brows creased, not willing to accept that he couldn’t have everything that he wanted. “Did you think me not enough to protect you?”

It had little to do with protection. Wren tugged her hand free, shaking her head. “You would never go against your family.” She turned and shoved the door open to escape into the chilled night air. Pain blossomed across her chest. Her legs threatened to give out.

Return to Black Territory and try to forget.

As if it worked the last ten years.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He couldn’t simply give in. None of his questions had been answered. Jonah followed; his voice drenched in confusion. “This isn’t about my parents. You left me, Wren! Without so much as a word. I deserve to know why!”

She clenched her fists and whirled around to face him. “It’s always been about them, Jonah! Do you have any idea how many times your mother found a way to make my life miserable? She’s the one who had me pulled from your class, turned my teachers against me, and she tried to pay me off when--” Wren caught herself before she blurted out the one thing she refused to speak of. Emerald irises fell away from the shock on his features.

Their raised voices had drawn the attention of the Jacks loitering by the fountain and with them, someone who was meant to be at home.

“Pay you off for what?” Jonah couldn’t think of a single thing that would require an exchange of money.

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t take the money, but I did leave. It’s over, Jonah. I think it’s better if we just pretend we’re strangers.”

“No. I refuse to leave things this way-”

A small hand slipped into hers. Reece wore a concerned expression. He’d never seen her so upset. “Mom?” He’d disregarded her wishes, following her all the way to Central Quarter, where he’d never been before.

Jonah glanced between the two. “Mom? You have a son?” It was dark but the moonlight illuminated the boy well enough.

Matching amber eyes met for the first time.

The missing piece walked right into the puzzle.

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m so tasty and the price is right (shigadabi)

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: explicit content warning: shameless porn, name-calling, both feminine & masculine terms used for ftm genitals, uhhhh i think thats it, hit me if i’m wrong tomura has an onlyfans and dabi helps him out for the viewers

-

tomura shigaraki, the anxiety-riddled, anger-filled, screaming child prodigy turned drop-out streamer that dabi was currently rooming with, had an onlyfans. dabi had only found this out through coincidence one night when he, for the first time, actually grabbed the mail on his way up. tomura had a bunch of perverted letters sent in from fans, all knowing him by his streamer name ‘decay’. they called him by his given name in the letters, something that shocked dabi and made it even funnier to read through.

his first instinct was to charge into tomura’s room to question him on it. and dabi wasn’t really a thinking man, so that’s what he did. he charged in with the letters in his hand, interrupting tomura’s stream as he scrambled to mute himself. 

“what the fuck do you want, dabi?” his raspy voice stuck in a permanent whine. it was honestly kinda cute sometimes. it was very easy to antagonize the poor boy, so dabi did it as often as he could get away with before tomura started threatening him. and not that dabi was scared of tomura— he could easily beat his ass at this point in time, all made up of scrawny limbs and long-term malnourishment. the only times he ate a real actual meal were when dabi reminded him and/or provided him with food. it put another pang of worry in dabi’s chest that he chose, again, to ignore.

tomura’s eyes scanned dabi, falling onto the papers in his hands with a confused expression.

“what?” tomura repeated, “what’s that shit?”

dabi’s grin was maniacal. 

“nothing, nothing,” dabi moved them behind his back, “only your creepy fan letters. from your fans.” there was a beat of silence before tomura’s face heated up and he stomped over, trying his hardest to grab at the letters dabi held.

“dude, why didn’t you tell me you were a pornstar? that’s like—” his laughing was cut off with a cough as he held the papers above their heads, shaking them to taunt tomura even more. tomura eventually jumped and snatched them out of dabi’s hands, shoving them in his trash can and going to sit back in his chair. he paused his stream as dabi caught his breath.

tomura took a deep (slightly crackly) breath, and started a practiced monologue, “i’m not a pornstar, i just hold… extra liveshows later on for more cash because streaming doesn’t exactly pay the best and for certain legal reasons i can’t really get a good job. so i basically just…” he sighed and winced a bit, “i record myself jacking off?” his sentence ended in more of an uncertain question than a statement, almost as if he was scared. “i don’t do it when you’re home, or at least i try not to, and i don’t bug you with it, so i don’t see why it would matter—” 

his rambling was cut off as tomura looked up to see dabi suddenly being a lot closer than he remembered.

“that’s fuckin’ hot, no apologies needed.” dabi’s voice was lower than usual, setting tomura’s face even further on fire, lighting up red as he covered his face.

“what the hell, freakshow, you can’t just say shit like that—” tomura said, muffled through his hands.

“but i can, and i will. you know i’m a pretty honest man, creep.” dabi chuckled. “now are you gonna let me fuck you up on your little stream or what?” he leaned down to be level with tomura who was still sat in his chair. 

there was only silence from tomura’s end.

“c’mon, won’t another dude be good for business? i promise i’ll take good care of you.” dabi got even closer with these words, trapping tomura in with his hands on the elbow rests, mouthing filthy promises in his ear.

“okay. we can take turns blowin’ each other.” tomura grumbled, pushing at dabi’s shoulders to move him from his position over him. “but i gotta finish off this stream first, i’ll come get you when it’s time. get cleaned up and shit, i won’t suck you off if you’re gross.” tomura didn’t look him in the eyes, putting his headphones back on and officially ending the conversation as he got back to whatever murder game he was playing with an apology for being gone.

dabi stalked off to the bathroom, burying his intense excitement and arousal deep in his gut and turning on the shower. he got pretty much everything, cleaner than he had been in weeks as a gross dude with an illegal gig barely classified as a job. he always did wonder how tomura was able to pay so much of the bills, but he didn’t want to bring it up and sound bitchy. he was half hard just from the thought, tomura always being the grumpy catch he was always afraid to go for, for fear that he would get kicked out of the apartment the morning after or something along those lines.

the stunt he had just pulled was exhilarating. he thought about the flush he had seen on tomura’s face as he stepped out of the shower. he was still at half mast as he brushed his teeth and put on deodorant (stealing tomuras’), towel wrapped around his waist. dabi had always thought himself to be a kind of a catch, positively covered in tattoos and piercings and even some cosmetic staples. his brother said he was addicted to body mods, bu he chose to ignore those words in favor of finding something else to do to or with his body. 

he wondered what he should wear. he didn’t want to struggle with it too much, just going for what he had on before the shower. he shook his hair out like a dog, water slightly darkened from the hair dye (he had just redyed it a couple days ago and he never truly had the care to wash it all the way out).

and when he was done with all that, he went into his room and collapsed on his bed facedown. there he stayed for a few moments as he tried to calm himself down, before just turned to his bong on the side table for some manual chill. he lit up a few times, only enough to make his head swim the tiniest bit, and went to play a few shitty games on his phone.

apparently he had been playing a little longer than he thought, already gone through a cigarette and another couple rips before tomura knocked on his door.

“ready to start up the live stream, get your ass in here if you still want in on it.” he heard through the door, followed by tomura’s footsteps leading off into his bedroom.

dabi, of course, immediately followed, hopping up and throwing his door open, excitedly shimmying his way up to tomura’s doorway. 

man

he was. he was wearing black thigh-highs, held up by a garter that he could barely see the beginnings of over a sweatshirt that was giant on his small, skinny frame. dabi’s sweatshirt.

“did—” dabi was damn near short of breath at the sigh ton display in front of him, “did you get that from my room?” 

“no, i got it from the living room. now let me get the camera on and the stream rolling before you fuck me up.” tomura chuckled softly, something that he didn’t do often. dab’s heart skipped a beat, and he pointedly chose to ignore it.

“you look fuckin’ hot, baby.” he murmured, eyes glued to the sligh bit of thigh on display over the top of the sock and before the sweatshirt.

“baby? what happened to creep?” tomura pressed record, laptop set up next to the camera so that they could see themselves and the chat, not giving dabi a chance to respond. tomura waited a few moments, before addressing the current pileup.

“hey everyone. i have a guest tonight, my roommate and the dude who eats all my damn cereal—” tomura paused and turned back to look at dabi who was still out of camera, “do you want your identity to be anonymous? ‘n’ do you wanna show your face?” 

dabi had a moment of pause, before shrugging. “nah, i don’t really have any shame, you’re not really anything to hide.” dabi once again shamelessly looked tomura up and down, earning an eyeroll and the beginnings of… was that a smile?

tomura turned back to the camera. “this is dabi, my roommate, and the dude who’s gonna eat me out on stream.” tomura said with no pause, and no stutter or hesitation. this was a performance, surely. it was so different from the blushing and hiding man who was avoiding his eyes a couple hours ago. tomura cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, mimicking a stage whisper. “this’ll be the first time with him, so you get our genuine reactions for free.” tomura chucked gently, watching the chat blow up at the premise of some genuine roommate porn.

tomura turned back to dabi, moving to pull him into frame and pushing him to sit on tomura’s bed.

“well, here goes nothing,” tomura murmured to himself, climbing into dabi’s lap and pulling him into a kiss. he immediately heard the dinging of tip notifications off to his side, and he knew his chat was probably going wild. dabi’s hands wandered, up tomura’s thighs that were positioned over his hips, and over the other mans own hips, back down to his thigh-highs. he pulled at them, snapping it against tomura’s thigh, earning a gasp that allotted enough room for dabi to stick his tongue in the others mouth. tomura’s own arms were slung over dabi’s shoulders coming up to run his hands through dabi’s undercut. tomura ground down against dabi’s half-hard cock, trying to work him up further. 

eventually their kiss broke for air and dabi stared into the camera with a knowing grin as he ground his hips upwards. tomura gasped loudly, sensitivity intensified by the hormones he had been taking for a while now. dabi moved to kiss down the white-haired boy’s throat, leaving little nips that had tomura giving breathy whines. he could tell some were played up for the camera, but he didn’t mind at all. he was rock hard in his jeans now, and he could feel the slickness that tomura had built up— soaking through his panties. which, by the way— now that dabi could see them, he was obsessed. they were bright blue and lacey, gorgeous against the pale flush of tomura’s scarred thighs. they hugged his hips nicely and made dabi want to rip them apart. 

tomura gently pushed him away from his neck, rolling his hips against dabi as he leaned back slightly to look at the camera. “chat, who should go first? who do you wanna see cum first?” his words were syrupy and seductive as their hips worked in tandem. someone donated with a fairly large amount, spouting something about wanting to see the pretty boy choke on cock.

and who were they to deny the nice donator?

tomura turned back to dabi, running a hand down the man’s chest, grabbing at the end of his shirt. dabi got the hint and removed his shirt, hearing the chat pop off for a moment.  “your lucky day, freakshow. fuck me up.” tomura whispered and he hopped off dabi’s lap, spreading dabi’s legs manually and making himself comfortable between them.

“feel free to grab the camera to get that angle, yknow?” tomura looked up at him as he laid his cheek on dabi’s thigh, uncomfortable close to the bulge in dabi’s pants.

dabi leaned back on his hands, letting tomura unbutton his pants and shimmy his boxers down enough to pull his cock out. tomura had a moment of shock at the sight of it, long and thick with about 5 pieces of fuckin’ metal stuck into it. 

when his shock wore off, he decided a quip would be appropriate. “y’know i always did wonder if it continued on down—” tomura gestured to all of his various facial and body piercings, finally licking a stripe up his length and taking dabi by surprise, making him gasp. tomura was surprisingly good at this, dabi had thought him a lame little virgin before he found out about the whole onlyfans thing. but no, tomura had apparently had quite a bit of practice, shown off by the rapid rate at which he was able to adjust to the intrusion of dabi’s cock, sinking down and feeling the metal rods on the underside grind one by one against his tongue. it was heaven, and dabi reached one hand into tomura’s hair for support.

this led tomura to pull off, only to say the words, “pull on it,” before sinking his hot mouth back down onto dabi’s dick. and so dabi did what he was told, taking the hair in his hands and pulling, earning a genuine moan from tomura that reverberated its way down his cock. the hottest thing was that tomura was making him feel this good with only his mouth. his hands were currently on dabi’s thighs, moving up to his hips as if to insinuate something. dabi pulled him back by his hair. tomura whined, which was the hottest thing ever and looked up at dabi with a wanting— no, expecting stare. 

“use your words, babydoll.” he muttered to tomura, watching his face heat up, much more like his bashful self before the camera turned on. the audience was eating it up, so used to his unphased confidence and sheer no-fucks-given attitude, that seeing this form of subby shigaraki was like dessert for them.

“use me, dabi,” tomura muttered, eyes focused on the ground as he shuffled on his knees.

“what was that? i couldn’t hear you, speak up.” dabi teased and used his hand that was in tomura’s hair to slip down and hook his finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at dabi.

tomura’s eyes glazed over for a second at the stern look that dabi was giving him, before blinking harshly and shaking his head a bit, as if to clear his mind.

“fuck my throat, dabi. use me.” his voice was clear and without any shyness now, an almost grin spreading across his cheeks. though his inner submission didn’t go unseen, as the look in his eye and the redness of his face and the way he arched his back even now, was more honest than any words he could say. 

“if you say so, baby. tap me if you want off.” dabi moved his hand back to tomura’s hair, gripping it tight and using it to line himself up with tomura’s lips.

“open up. you’re gonna be so good at this, i can just tell.” dabi growled out. tomura followed directions, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out to show up, dabi sliding his cock to the back of the other man’s throat. he stopped for a moment to let tomura adjust, but tomura took that to his advantage, meeting dabi’s eyes and sucking hard.

“jesus fuck, baby—” dabi panted, starting up a smooth rhythm with his hips, both hands now in tomura’s hair to practically use him like a toy. a human fleshlight.

“god, tomura, you whore— how’dya get so good at this? d’ya— d’ya practice?” dabi’s hips sped up as tomura moaned deep in his throat, vibrating against his cock. the words were turning tomura’s poor brain into jello. the chat was going wild, donations at an all time high as they watched their favorite creator get used like a toy. 

dabi felt the tension building up in his gut. a few more moments of this and he would be done for. he reached down with one of the hands to wrap around tomura’s throat, so that he couldn’t even semi-breathe through his nose. he felt tomura gag, throat clamping down on his cock. tomura had yet to tap him, so he continued with his wild ministrations, letting go of tomura and pulling his dick out until just the tip rested on tomura’s tongue as he worked himself off the final edge and came, coating tomura’s lips and tongue.

“don’t swallow yet.” dabi’s tone was winded yet still authoritative. “show your audience baby, you did amazing. show them how good of a slut you are.” dabi grabbed tomura’s chin and manually turned the boy’s head to the camera, watching with hungry eyes as he showed off the spend on his tongue. 

“okay, now swallow.” dabi ordered, watching as tomura did it easily. dabi knew at that instant that he had sent tomura into a momentary headspace of sorts. he wanted to treat the boy after using him so roughly, so he helped him up and out of the sweatshirt, splayed out on the bed, hair spread out around his head like a halo. he looked like a proper angel as the blurriness finally worked its way out of those eyes and the real tomura came back on line.

“jesus christ, dabi.” tomura grumbled. his pale face was on fire. dabi thought that was the hottest thing he had ever experienced. 

dabi was lowering himself onto his knees, pulling tomura’s hips to hang off the bed, spreading them so that he could lay lovebites along his inner thighs. it was almost agonizing with how long he carried it out, working numerous dark purple hickeys onto his thighs, as if to claim, and to show off. he knew that if tomura did a show in the next few days, they would be visible, and that made him hot under the collar.

“god, freakshow, get on with it!” tomura whined, trying to arch up onto something, but failing as a result of dabi’s iron grip on his thighs. 

“ah, ah ah— what do we say when we want something, babydoll?” dabi’s low voice made goosebumps rise up on tomura’s skin, and the poor boy nearly gave in and started begging right there. dabi stopped pressing kisses to tomura’s thighs, sitting back holding tomura’s legs apart, waiting on his reply.

“i need an answer, creep.” the familiar nickname from the man between his legs made it more… intimate. tomura swallowed his pride.

“please— please dabi, please suck me off, i need it—” he was rewarded with dabi ripping his panties off, exposing his nether regions to the open air. tomura whined at the cold, feeling it against his wet cunt. but soon the feeling of cold air was replaced with a soft, excellent warm suction on his dick, one of dabi’s hands reaching up to run two fingers along his slit. 

it made tomura nearly scream, instead moving one of his hands to cover his mouth. dabi instantly let up on the attention, reaching up to move tomura’s hand. “you gotta put on a show tomura, remember that.” dabi chuckled before he went back to work, moving his lips down to run his tongue against tomura’s hole. tomura was arching his back and more or less grinding against dabi’s face as he moaned loudly. dabi knew his way around eating out, so it wouldn’t be long for the other man, who had already been so wound up for so long. dabi went back to sucking on his clit and he moved his two fingers to enter, making an awful noise when they did. tomura’s wetness rolled down dabi’s wrist and before long, tomura’s legs were shaking as dabi brought him to the edge. 

now, dabi was a little shit by nature. so he doubled, even tripled his efforts in speed and pressure, rocketing tomura over the edge and working his fingers in and out at such a speed that had tomura writhing against the sheets in oversensitivity. 

and dabi kept going. he was on a mission, and soon enough, his efforts were rewarded when tomura soaked the sheets and dabi’s arm and lower face. dabi worked him through it, milking him of every drop, before he finally let up. tomura lay there practically braindead for a bit, dabi even going so far as to wave at the camera as he stroked tomura’s thighs, waiting for him to be coherent enough for dabi to leave for a second to get a towel. 

once he had come back to the land of the living, tomura ended the stream with a quick thank you to the donators and visitors, while dabi was up getting a towel, and tomura had caught his breath by the time dabi was back with towels and water. dabi wiped his face, arms and upper torso off, and tomura wiped his junk down, throwing the towel somewhere on the floor. 

“my junk hurts, you asshole. god— why are you so good at that?” were the first words out fo tomura’s mouth, eliciting a loud laugh from dabi as he opened the window and pulled out a cigarette.

“get me one too, freakshow. i need it after that. my dono’s are through the fuckin’ roof though, so thanks for our rent.” he spoke quietly against the sounds of the city as dabi lit his cigarette and tossed one and his lighter to tomura.

dabi only gave him a devilish smirk.

“you gonna let me do that again?”

[much-obliged-timothy]

Dad Tim & Uncle Rhys Part 4

Self-indulgence part 4 is here! I’m always amazed when these get any notes at all, so thank you for that! Debating if I want to do a continuation of this part or not, so feel free to let me know if you want part 5 of this to be a continuation of part 4! And if you have no idea what this even is, you can read part one here

Rhys wondered what the hell he was doing as he approached Timothy Lawrence’s house.

Tim had called out of work sick about three days ago, his voice raspy and coughs constantly interrupting him as he tried to assure Rhys he’d work from home when he could manage it. Rhys, despite tending to rely on Tim’s quick turnaround time on assignments he was given, had told Tim to just check in every day until he was ready to return.

Tim had sounded progressively worse each day, and this morning he hadn’t even called. He’d sent a short, apologetic email to Rhys.

Rhys knew Tim had no friends on Promethea. That meant he was trying to look after himself and his son as his illness grew worse.

So pity had overtaken him, and Rhys had made some soup to bring over. He’d check on Tim, see if he needed anything, and then be on his way back to Atlas.

But as he approached the little house Tim lived in, his steps slowed. Was this appropriate? He worked closely with Tim, but they rarely saw each other outside of work, so was it really appropriate to just show up at his house?

But what if Tim needed medical attention? Phoenix was too young to be looking after Tim properly, so it was possible Tim’s condition had grown worse if he was unable to care for himself or get medicine. 

Rhys took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way to the door. Regardless of if Tim liked to tease him and piss him off on occasion, he was a good man and he was Rhys’ employee. Rhys would make sure he was okay and get him medicine or groceries if he needed them. 

Rhys knocked on the door, looking around. Blinds were drawn over all the windows, giving him no preview of the inside of the house. 

He was waiting for so long that he wondered if anyone would answer the door. But then it finally creaked open, Tim leaning heavily in the doorway.

Rhys stared. Tim always wore his mask at work, but he’d taken it off now, Jack’s scarred face on display.

Even more, though, was that it was clear how sick Tim was. His face was flushed with fever, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He wore plaid pajama pants and an Atlas T-shirt Rhys had given him as a welcome gift, though it clung to him from the sweat. Tim had heavy bags under his eyes, his breathing labored. 

“Rhys,” he croaked.

“I brought...soup?” He held it up helplessly. “Shit, Timothy, you’re bad.”

“You can set that in the kitchen,” Tim said. “I’d take it myself, but I’d probably drop it.”

“Sit down. I’ll take it to the kitchen,” Rhys said.

He followed Tim inside, Tim dragging himself into the living room and over to the couch. It was made up with blankets and pillows, Phoenix sitting in front of it with a toy gun.

“Boss guy,” he said in surprise.

Tim collapsed on the couch, running a hand through Phoenix’s hair. “Go take him to the kitchen, please.”

Phoenix got up, setting his toy gun down and picking up his tattered Hyperion bear. He gestured for Rhys to follow him, leading him into the kitchen.

There was a chair pushed up to the sink, and another pushed up under the microwave. Rhys looked at them curiously.

“I can’t reach,” Phoenix explained. “But I gotta make food for us ‘cause dad’s too sick to get up.”

“He seems really sick,” Rhys said, opening the fridge to put the soup in it.

“He is,” Phoenix said, fidgeting with his bear. “I dunno what to do. He got worse. Is he gonna die?”

“What?” Rhys said in surprise. “No. He just needs medicine and rest. Has he taken medicine?”

“Uh-huh,” Phoenix said. 

“Can you show me what he’s been taking?” Rhys said.

“Uh-huh,” he repeated, wandering from the kitchen. 

Rhys followed him. They passed Tim, who seemed too tired to pay them any mind. Phoenix took Rhys upstairs to a bathroom, pointing at a medicine cabinet.

“It’s in there,” he said.

Rhys opened the medicine cabinet and looked through the various medications Tim kept. They were all over the counter medicines, and Rhys took time to read the labels to see what could be taken together without hurting Tim.

He settled on a few medications, leaving the bathroom with Phoenix trailing behind him. They went downstairs to Tim, who reached out to ruffle Phoenix’s hair.

“‘M okay, pal,” he mumbled. “Just need to sleep a little more.” 

“Here, this should help with your fever,” Rhys said, shaking a pill into his hand and holding it out to Tim. 

Tim took it dry. Rhys realized the glass of water near him was nearly empty anyways.

“Tim, do you need a doctor?” Rhys said. “You look terrible.”

“No, no doctors,” Tim said. “I’m fine. Just gotta rest.”

“Dad, let boss guy help,” Phoenix said, clutching his bear tighter. “I don’t...I don’t want you to die!”

Tim reached out, drawing Phoenix close and trying to sit up so he could hug him. “Hey, I’m not dying. It’s just a fever, Phoenix. But you know I hate doctors.”

Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it. Of course. Tim was surgically altered. Who knew what he’d been through at the hands of Jack’s doctors to make him a perfect doppelganger?

Still, he looked bad right now. Rhys went back upstairs as Phoenix clung to Tim.

He searched around the bathroom until he found a thermometer. He cleaned it off and took it downstairs, holding it out to Tim.

“Take your temperature,” Rhys said. When Tim opened his mouth to refuse, Rhys shot a pointed glance to Phoenix.

Tim deflated a bit and took the thermometer. He placed it under his tongue until it beeped, glancing at it and wincing.

Rhys peeked at it and shot Tim a look. “If it goes any higher, you need to go to the emergency room, Tim. I’ll drag you there myself.”

“I can’t!” Tim protested, having to stop and cough into his arm. “I don’t have anyone to watch my son if I’m laid up in the hospital. And I don’t do well in hospitals, regardless.”

“Dad, stop!” Phoenix said, gripping Tim’s arm. “Stop, you’re sick. Let boss guy help. Please, I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m not going to die, Phoenix,” Tim said. “Hey, can you get me some more water, please? It’ll help me stop coughing.”

Phoenix hesitated, then nodded. He kissed Tim’s cheek and picked up the glass, heading into the kitchen.

“You’re scaring him,” Tim said.

“Me?” Rhys said in disbelief. “You’re the one half dead on the couch.”

“I’ll be okay,” Tim said, slumping back on the couch. “Please, Rhys, I can’t go to the hospital. I’m...I’m terrified of them. And I don’t have anyone to watch my son. I can’t send him back with his mother. We don’t want him back in the casino. But if I’m in the hospital, we won’t have a choice.”

“You can’t take care of him like this,” Rhys pointed out.

Tim pressed a hand to his head like he was in pain. “I know. But at least he’s not separated from me.”

“If it comes down to it, he can stay with me. But if your fever gets higher, you’re going to the hospital,” Rhys said. His eyes widened. “Oh, hell, I just committed myself to that, didn’t I? Dammit, Timothy, you’re a nightmare of an employee.” 

“You won’t need to act on it, because I’m not going to the hospital,” Tim said, looking miserable but stubborn.

Phoenix returned to the room, sitting on the couch by Tim and handing him the water. Tim took a few sips before setting it down.

“Thanks for the soup, Rhys,” Tim said. “You better head out. I’m going to sleep for a little.”

“Oh no,” Rhys said, putting his hands on his hips. “Phoenix, make sure he takes his temperature once an hour. If it goes up from this,” he showed the number on the thermometer, “then you call me and I’ll make sure we get him help.”

“That’s cheating. You can’t use my kid against me!” Tim said.

“I’m gonna tell boss guy if you get any sicker,” Phoenix said, his stubborn expression mirroring Tim’s. 

“God, I wish I never forgot a condom,” Tim groaned, pressing his knuckles to his eyes. “Freaking Jack. I swear he left me fertile just so I could be tormented in this moment. What an absolute dick.” 

“Timothy!” Rhys said, face heating up. He gestured to Phoenix. “Your kid is right there!”

Tim waved a dismissive hand. “He knows I love him, and he knows he’s a pain in the ass.” 

“You’ll make him get help?” Phoenix asked Rhys anxiously.

“If I have to drag him my- Well, probably not myself, because he scares me. But I’ll...make Zer0 drag him to the hospital?” Rhys said. “He’ll go there if he needs to, is my point.” 

“N-Not happ-” Tim fell into a coughing fit, hacking away so hard that Rhys was worried he’d cough up his damn lungs. Phoenix pushed the water into Tim’s hands, rubbing his back as Tim tried to drink a little to calm his fit. 

“Dad, please,” Phoenix said quietly, putting his arms around Tim. “Please let boss guy help.”

Tim looked at his frightened, worried son, and groaned. “Screw both of you. I’m going to sleep. Wake me in an hour to take my goddamn temperature.”

Phoenix looked relieved at his father’s reluctant agreement. Tim tugged a blanket over himself, shivering despite how badly he was sweating.

“Get him something to eat before you leave,” Tim muttered, closing his eyes. “Thanks, Rhys.”

Phoenix tucked Tim in before getting off the couch and going into the kitchen with Rhys. Rhys searched around for something to make for him that wasn’t a microwavable meal.

“You’ll really make sure dad is okay?” Phoenix said, hugging his bear tightly. 

“I...yea, I promise,” Rhys said with a sigh. “But you need to take his temperature every hour, okay? Uh...do you know how long that is? Shit, can you even read numbers?”

“I know how to tell time,” Phoenix said. “Kinda. But I know how long an hour is. And I can’t count that high, but I know three comes after two so I gotta call you if it’s one-zero-three, right?” 

“Right,” Rhys said, surprised. Kid was smarter than he’d given him credit for, that was for sure. “103 is a high-grade fever. He needs to get help if it gets that high.” 

He was at 102.7 right now, which was bad news. Rhys would prefer to get him help now, but he also didn’t want to stress Tim out in his current condition. He hoped the pill he’d given him lowered the fever a little. 

“You need to make sure he drinks a lot of water and juice, okay?” Rhys said. “He needs fluids. And don’t let him get off the couch if he doesn’t need to. He should be resting with a fever like that.” 

He felt bad. This was a lot to put on a kid, but with Phoenix’s distrust and paranoia, it would be hard to bring in help. Rhys couldn’t stay here; he had to get to work before his meeting in an hour and a half. 

“I have to go to work after you eat, but I’ll come back after,” he promised. “You can call me if his fever gets worse, though.”

“Thank you,” Phoenix said, and Rhys was horrified to see tears in his eyes as he hugged his bear. “Everyone always tried to hurt dad, but you don’t hurt him.”

Oh, god. “So, um, um...what do you want to eat! Food. Food is good. Can’t cry if you’re eating!”

Maybe he should see if Vaughn would come be a babysitter. Vaughn would probably be good with the kid. Rhys had no idea how to handle a child.

He got himself busy cooking a meal for Phoenix. Phoenix retrieved his toy gun while he waited, sitting quietly and taking practice shots at some cardboard targets he’d lined up for himself.

Rhys gave him the meal and did the dishes while he ate, deciding to at least help out a little since Tim was too sick to look after the house. Rhys ended up putting away some laundry that had been abandoned long enough in the dryer to go cold, cleaned up the kitchen, and even changed the sheets on Tim’s bed, which he clearly shared with Phoenix despite Phoenix having his own bedroom. 

He woke Tim just long enough to take his temperature, confirming there was no change before letting him pass back out. He got him a fresh glass of water and set medication near the couch, writing out instructions for what Tim should take and how often. He knew Phoenix couldn’t read, but Tim should be able to handle that part himself.

“I’ve got to go,” he said at last. Weird as it was to clean someone else’s house, he was glad he’d stopped by to check on Tim. Phoenix was too young to properly care for Tim or the house. They were going to need help until Tim was better.

“I can call if he gets sicker?” Phoenix said, taking his dad’s hand in his.

“I did say that,” Rhys said, sighing a little. “Yea, call me if he gets worse. And make sure you get some sleep too, okay? I know it’s just you and him, but it shouldn’t be your job to look after an adult when you’re just a little kid.”

“He needs me,” Phoenix said, that stubborn look back on his face. “Dad takes care of me. I gotta take care of him too.”

“Alright,” Rhys said, raising his hands. “Just get some sleep tonight, Phoenix. You don’t want to get sick, too.” 

“Thanks, boss guy,” Phoenix said, getting up to walk him to the door. 

Rhys hesitated, then reached out and ruffled his hair like he’d seen Tim do, although he was a lot more awkward about it. Phoenix winced a little at the sudden touch, but he didn’t freeze up like he did when he thought someone was going to hurt him.

He stared up at Rhys, with a surprisingly contemplative expression. Finally, he nodded to himself.

He held out a fist to Rhys. Rhys stared at it before awkwardly bumping his own fist to it.

“Thanks for being good to my dad,” he said.

“Oh,” Rhys said. “Uh, right. Of course. He’s, uh, he’s my employee after all. Even if you’re both pains in the ass, I’ll...I’ll look out for you.”

Tim had been a good, loyal employee. It was the least Rhys could do, especially knowing the situation Tim and Phoenix came from.

He left the house, waving to Phoenix before he shut the door. He heard the lock click before he walked away from the door.

Shit. Rhys really hoped Tim got better, because he didn’t think he could handle Phoenix’s separation anxiety and Tim’s fear of hospitals at the same time.