#without pushing her too far or too fast out of her comfort zone

[eggy-tea]

One of the things that makes Eugenides such a fantastic character is that he’s brave and loyal and noble, but not even a little bit stoic.

He spends so much time moaning and complaining. He gets scared and he cries and he feels no shame about any of it. He broods and wallows. The gods themselves tell him to stop whining.

I know a certain amount of it is a calculated act, but also, he’s mostly leaning into his strengths in those cases. It’s just so rare to see genuine heroism in a character with such traditionally unheroic traits, and I love it. It’s not something to overcome, it’s just who he is — the most inspiring man you’ll ever meet, openly nursing grudges and dishing out petty insults by the dozen.

[zepp-l1n]

His Anchor

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader

summary: sometimes Kaz needs a comforting presence. fic type - angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship warning - Kaz's haphephobia and trauma :(, also a little ooc Kaz at the end?? word count - 1,494 a/n: hiii! hope you guys enjoy!

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It wasn't unusual for Kaz to get overwhelmed and slip into one of his episodes. Too much time spent in interactions, physical or not, would cause him to feel the water rise up his spine and start to consume him. In the past during times like these, Kaz would run off and lock himself into his room. No one was to come in, and no one was to go out. Now things were different. Now he had (Y/N).

The girl had become apart of his team of Crows early on, but it wasn't until a little while ago that the two crossed into a relationship status past friends (one that Kaz refused to call "lovers" due to his hatred for visible weaknesses). Since they had reached this point, the two had been working on trying to break down Kaz's walls. Understandably, the couple had been taking it slow, and didn't try to go to far out of Kaz's comfort zone.

So far, they had managed to make some progress. The first step had been hand holding in short time frames - which was okay, with or without gloves.

Next had been opening up about Kaz's childhood. (Y/N) still didn't know much, due to the fact that she didn't want to push him to far to fast, but it was enough for her to understand where he was coming from. Now, when he had the episodes, she was right there with him - staying far enough away so to not make it worse, but close enough that he wouldn't have to go through it alone. She was now his savior, pulling him back to shore when the waters threatened to drown him. And he needed that safety, especially in moments like these.

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Kaz was crouched in the corner of his room. His goal had been to huddle up on his bed where he would be more comfortable, but the waves had become to much for him to go any farther. All he could see was Jordie. All he could see was Jordie. There was no escaping him. He could feel the cold hands of Jordie and the others gripping at his body.

Kaz had been alone in his study when the attack hit him, so he didn't have far to go to hide away. Unbeknownst to him, (Y/N) had seen his shaken form enter his room. She subtly excused herself from the conversation she was having with Nina and Matthias, and calmly made her way to the room. Inside, her brain was running a mile a minuet. She knew how bad Kaz could get sometimes, and she could only hope that he was alright.

Inside the room, the boy had curled into himself farther, trying to get any slight piece of relief. He was too far into his own head that he didn't notice (Y/N)'s knock on his door, nor did he notice her enter the room.

"Kaz?" she quietly called out. Her gaze drifted to the boy on the ground - the boy she had grown to truly care about. She could tell he was hyperventilating, a common occurrence during these episodes, but his breathing was far more erratic than usual. "Kaz, sweetheart?" (Y/N) closed in on the boy, arms cautiously open and outstretched. Kaz still didn't notice her. Once more, she stepped towards him. "Kaz, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

His gloved hands were painfully clasped around his shoulders. He couldn't take in anything other than the water and Jordie. Nothing else seemed to be real.

(Y/N)'s hands reached for Kaz's. She didn't know what she was planning on doing, but she knew that she needed to bring him out of the episode fast, for his sanity and hers. "I'm here Kaz." she mumbled, soft hands winding around the leather she had become happily accustomed to. "You're safe. You're here with me." Her words and movements were gradually becoming more frantic. While keeping one hand on his, she brought the other back to herself for a moment. She knew that holding him anywhere else was way past the boundaries they had broken, and although it could possibly help, she wasn't sure if it would make things off between them afterwards.

A broken gasp brought (Y/N)'s attention back to the boy in front of her. Kaz's chest was rapidly heaving, trying to take in unnecessary amounts of air. His already shaking body seemed to increase in speed. She needed to do something, and fast.

(Y/N) knew that even the slightest bit of cold flesh may send him farther into his episode, so she quickly pulled both hands away and started rubbing them together to get some friction. Once they were as warm as she could get them, (Y/N) placed her hands onto his body - the left cradling his neck, and the right caressing his face. She pulled his body tight against hers, resting his head on her clothed chest. From this angle he would be able to hear her madly-paced heartbeat. "Kaz, darling, please." she loudly begged.

In Kaz's head, and behind Jordie's angry yells, he started to hear a steady 'thump'. Warmth enveloped his face and neck, pushing away some of the violent waves.

Soft cries started to leave the girls mouth. She couldn't help the frustrated and scared tears misting over her eyes, or the overly panicked thoughts rushing through her head.

Kaz could feel the waves dying down, but he still couldn't get away from the cold and damp feeling of the death he experienced. The thumping was still a steady tune, pulsing through the back of his conscience. He knew something or someone was there, but he couldn't get away.

"I'm here." her choked words returned to their former softness, but still repeated rapidly, as if speaking them over and over would bring him out of his trance. "Please..."

The thumping grew louder, and faster in pace. Whatever it was, Kaz was sure would burst in minuets. It echoed in his mind, blocking out Jordie's yells - blocking out the smell of sea water and the feeling of water filling his lungs. Then came the call of a soft a familiar voice - one that he could recognize and point out within all of the crowds in Ketterdam. (Y/N). The dark haze started to clear from his mind, letting him take in the sight of the girl holding him.

For a moment everything stopped. It was as if Kaz was someone else - as if he hadn't lost Jordie, or been dumped with the other bodies, or as if he could freely touch anything and anyone he wanted. He felt the soft skin pressing on his neck and face, and subconsciously leaned into it. Fresh tears streamed from his eyes, coming into contact with the soft skin he now adored, and he couldn't help but let out matching whimpers and cries of his own.

A soft gasp sounded from about him, "Kaz!" He could feel the girl start to pull away, the feeling of her warmth leaving his cold body, and he swiftly pulled her back.

"Stay." his broken voice whispered. "I'm sorry." Her heartbeat rang in his ears, proving to him that she was real, not some body he was forcefully sat beside.

"Don't be," she hoarsely muttered. "You have nothing to apologize for. Not to me." Her right hand ran over the rough skin of his cheek, brushing against the small scars that littered the area.

"I do." his voice vibrated against her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

(Y/N) pulled his face away from her, and used her hands to force his stare back in her direction. "Kaz Brekker, don't start with that. I am here - to help, to hold, to get you through the unnecessary suffering. I will be here every step of the way." Her voice never raised above a whisper.

"But-" he started, but (Y/N) cut him off.

"No. I will be here. I will be your tether back to reality, whenever I am needed. I will bring you back to me - back to the crows - back to yourself. We will get through this. One day, things will get better. One day, I will have you, without your armor. But until then, I will be with you every step of the way." (Y/N)'s eyes pierced into his own throughout her entire speech. Her words and look were enough to render Kaz, for the first time, speechless.

Kaz leaned forward, securing himself back into her arms. He didn't know how much longer this moment would last, or how much longer he'd be able to hold her without feeling the need to throw up, but he knew she would wait as long as it took for him to be free of his fears and hold her like this always. He knew that he had her. he finally had his anchor, and he wasn't letting it go.

[little-worm-grant]

Steven's pov: Happy Simple Normal Life

1,153 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Some lighthearted scatterbrained memories from the mind of Steven Grant and his formative years. Previously: Marc's pov: Behind Closed Doors (18+ hurt/not a necessary read)

Continued: Steven's pov: Oh Sausages (more comfort)

Tags: Childhood Memories, Comfort, Fluff, Developing Friendship

Corridors were quiet. Everyone else had gone outside for recess. Steven had spent all his free time hiding out in a classroom to read. He was a good boy, and knew how to fly under the radar. Teachers felt they could count on him to be left in a classroom unsupervised. They didn’t know what he was really up to.

Steven had only one other love besides books. The moment he knew the coast was clear, he’d take the teacher’s chair out from behind the desk and push it out the classroom. He'd use it to race down the hall as fast as he could. Hopping on at the very last second to try and see how far he could roll. Might've seemed silly to some, but Steven got the biggest thrill out of it.

Sometimes the chair would collide with the wall. Other times he’d not make it onto the seat and looked like a pretty sad sap on the floor with the chair wheeling away from him. He kept trying. Just a couple of tries each time before retreating back to class. He never wanted to push his luck and get caught.

First attempt was crap. Caught on a classroom door frame and bounced to the other wall rather than down the bleeding hall. Okay, Steven. Get it together. He returned back down one end. The wheels of the heavy chair crackled along the dirty floors. Determination in his eyes.

Catching his breath back he looked over the seat to plan his trajectory. The hallway seemed to close in on him. Long and narrow. His breathing came back to him in long steady breaths. One last try. Now or never Grant.

Kicking off with one push against the wall. Shoving the chair forward. Steven broke into a sprint. His hands gripped the arms tightly. Cheering himself on. Losing his breath he made the final move to jump up onto the seat.

One knee up. Using the other leg to push off the ground. Steering the speeding chair down the hallway. Passing doors and lockers faster than he thought was possible. Smooth sailing. Second knee up. He clung to the backrest of the seat and beamed.

For a single moment, Steven Grant was on top of the world. Fearless. He could do anything he set his mind to and-

“MISTER SPECTOR!”

The screech of a woman's voice startled him. Swiveling his head around to see who his teacher was yelling at. Only finding her horrified eyes dead set on him. Oh crud. Too caught up on being caught, he’d not been looking where he was going. The chair bounced off a wall causing the whole thing to go barreling out of control. The last thing little Steven remembered was his face about to kiss the floor.

"OH SHI-"

Nice one, plonker.

School trip to the aquarium. He’d remembered being so excited to go to this. Couldn't believe he was actually here, that'd come round fast. The place was pretty busy. Lot of people around in and between his peers while the teacher tried keeping them all wrangled together. Fat chance of that. Steven might have gotten a tad distracted watching one of those informational videos. Not hearing or noticing anything else around him while his eyes were zoned in on the screen. Deeply entrenched with a slew of facts about mantis shrimps. Those buggars could really pack a punch. He couldn't even imagine seeing more colors. Hadn’t noticed the group had left him behind until they were already gone.

That was one of the few times Steven had ever truly felt lost in childhood. Alone in a new location without any way to find or get in touch with his group. Maybe he should wait there until he got back. Going off wandering would only make it worse, he wasn't daft. Once they noticed surely they’d come back.

He paced, avoiding stepping into people’s ways, trying to go back to information screens to settle himself but it wasn’t the same blissful unawareness he’d had before. The pit in his stomach worsened with every minute that passed. He started to need the bathroom but worried he might get lost trying to find one or while getting back. Panic built up in his throat and made his eyes all glassy. Blinking back the tears the back of his hand came up to wipe.

That's when he caught his own reflection in the glass of one of the darker aquariums. Murky waters showed the reflection of another boy who looked far calmer than he felt. Arms down by his sides. Didn’t constantly have his hands up in front of him fiddling or flailing them around like Steven did.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi.” The voice responded.

Steven imagined he heard him say it back, like he was right there. But he couldn’t have. That would’ve been daft. Imaginary friends his dad would have reminded him. That's what he told himself too. He could have conversations with himself for hours sometimes.

“I’m scared.” Steven admitted out loud to himself. To the fishes. To his friend.

“I know.” The reflection moved when he did. Another short pace to get closer to the glass. The facial expressions were all wrong. Maybe not wrong was the right word, but different. Steven could swear he didn’t frown like that. The voice spoke again. “It’s going to be okay though. You know that. Take a deep breath. They're gonna come back.”

Steven did take that breath. Sharply in and slower out. Letting go of that pent-up feeling building in his chest. Felt less alone, even if it was his own reflection that eased him.

“Yeah… I hope so. Would be a bit of a bummer if I had to live here with the fishes.”

"Nahh- that wouldn't be so bad. That's right up your alley."

"It'd be bosting honestly. I'd be dead happy. I'd name every single one of 'em Gus. We'd have a right good time."

The voice chuckled and the reassurances worked. If only to settle Steven down enough to subdue the growing panic.

"You think they'll be back soon?"

"Course. I'll wait with you until they do. Tell me about what you've seen so far. Is it fun?" "Oh man you wouldn't believe it. So there's this shrimp, yeah?"

He talked and talked and talked. The reflection listened. Even Steven was smiling in the end. Someone eventually did come back for him. Found him in the same place they’d left him, chatting away with the fishes. Telling them all about his day. The teacher was firm but nice. One last glance to the glass. He caught only his own reflection looking back at him this time.

“Bye mate.” He waved to the fishes as he was guided back to the group.

Kept telling himself everything was going to be okay; because in the end, it always was.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Forsaken AU's back on the brain, have some fun facts

Mystery Link!

Although he has a horse named Epona, he rarely uses her. She journeyed with him in the early years of his adventures, but after she sustained grievous injuries and almost died, Link set up her in the best stable he could find and she is retired from Hero Duties in his book. He still visits her and rides her, but she's the stable's baby now and relaxes and helps the local village children learn how to ride.

As a result, Link doesn't really have a horse. He tames wild horses long enough to get where he needs to go before letting them go again. Because of this, he's quite the expert in recognizing horse breeds and knowing their temperaments and qualities quickly.

Link is a major introvert. He'd really rather not deal with people at all. He comes in, saves the day, and he leaves ASAP. When traveling he rarely, if ever, uses the roads, instead going through the forests and thickets and plains and fields. He'll go months without talking to anyone.

Has worn the same clothes for actual years. Villages that see him on more than one occasion gift him clothes because he'll wear what he has until its threadbare.

Speaking of gifts, many villages leave offerings for him in places where he's likely to find them, far from people. They know he doesn't interact with others much. They tend to leave gifts for him in pots on the edge of town. He didn't accept them at first, but when people go out of their way to find him and insist, he learns to accept it.

Wielded the Triforce of Courage on his first adventure, but this time when the Triforce shatters Wisdom chooses him instead. He keeps this fact to himself, though he sadly, quietly reflects that it's appropriate he lost the right to Courage.

Gerudo Link!

He grew up in a settlement on the edge of Gerudo Desert. His mother never wanted him near her people's own cities (of which there are multiple) because she didn't want anyone to know that a Gerudo male had been born.

Link had the option of being a scholar like his father, but he much prefers working with his hands and seeing more immediate results. He also just likes to make people happy.

He's curious to see the world, as his father has told him so many stories. While he isn't hugely adventurous, he is willing to leave his comfort zone and familiar area to travel to his father's hometown and try to start a life for himself there.

His massage therapy is hugely popular - the entire region is sad when Zelda drags him away.

Due to said popularity, he's surprisingly well off for an almost-nineteen-year-old kid just starting out on his own.

His favorite season is spring - although he is used to the heat and prefers it, summers in his new area are too humid for his liking. Spring is perfect, though.

Princess Zelda!

She's an excellent rider and loves pushing her horse to run as fast as possible. Her horse, in return, loves to run, so they're a good match.

Grew up on legends and stories of the royal family protecting Hyrule and is enamored with them. She 100% wants to be the next queen who protects her people.

Has never truly been independent in her life, so when she runs away to seek out the Hero she quickly realizes she has no idea how to cook, camp, anything. Eh, I'll figure it out! Wisdom is inherent to my bloodline!

She stole multiple magical artifacts from the royal library to help in her quest, including an adventure pouch that has endless storage and a staff that compels people to tell the truth--but only if wielded correctly. She's yet to figure out how to use the staff, but boy does she want to use it on Mystery Link.

Loves drama and romance, and tales of them as well. She'll read all the young adult novels, she'll ship all the characters, and she has drawn fan art of her favorite stories. Her favorite story is The Tale of Two Swords, a legend of twin spirits destined to be eternal enemies despite their eternal love for each other. She cries every time she talks about it.

Blue is her favorite color

The Chocolate Chonkster!

Is the best

Will always be the best

Loves everyone (but especially Mystery Link)

Knows deep pressure therapy (she's a snuggler and she senses that it helps calm Link) and can sense when Mystery Link is in need of comfort. Will pin him to the ground whether he likes it or not.

Loves going hunting with Mystery Link and will retrieve anything he kills. Has sometimes retrieved monsters, much to his exasperation

Did I mention that she's the best

[cerastes]

Hey I was wondering, who do you use as your core starting group for Iron Carrot and Toron to get to Depth 8? I can only get as far as Depth 5 before I get overrun. My main strat is going 3x Sniper, 1x Caster with Goldenglow, 2x Vanguard, 1x Guard, 1x Defender with Mudrock, and then whoever else I can get put into Thorns, SilverAsh, Chalter... But eventually, the big units get too beefy and I can't kill them in time...

Listen to me carefully. Listen. I am grabbing you by the head and making very aggressive but somehow comforting eye contact right now, like an orangutan. You need three units to start with.

Mudrock S2. Suzuran S2. Goldenglow S2. “Don’t you mean S3 for the glo—“ Listen. Goldenglow’s S2 has infinite duration. Once it’s set up, it’s a permanent buff with permanent upkeep. You don’t have to time shit. You don’t have to deal with downtime sans the period of time it takes for the skill to go online. Suzuran S2 is the same, plus it allows her to attack three targets at once (with at least M1, get M1), and targets that are Slow in her range get slapped with Fragile 20% (23% with Potential 5). Mudrock S2 spins to win.

The rest of your starter team is a couple of Vanguards, a handful of Supporters, a bunch of Snipers, a Defender, and a Medic. Their names do not matter. Names are immaterial and superfluous in the Mines. They are tools to be used in order to strengthen our main stars. Their purpose is to be chewed and masticated and digested so they may make them strong. History will remember them as nutrients, if it feels merciful.

Goldenglow and Suzuran must be given Sniper stacks. Ideally 5 each but make do with what you can get away with in each map (4 is enough sometimes) because remember you need to account for the time it takes for their skills to online after deployment. Mudrock is to be fed one Defender and as many Vanguards as possible. This will make her spin. This will make her win. Supporters are there to help you go through your deck faster, like Pot of Greed.

When forced to add more cards to your deck, Snipers are the top priority, Supporters after that, Vanguards after that, Defenders after that, Specialists after that (they can help with building stacks in a pinch with A-Equipment, especially Shifters since they have no tile restrictions), and anything that’s not those, go with your preferences.

The idea is that GG and Suzu with blast the life out of anything in their range, with Suzu slowing and putting Fragile on three enemies at once while GG hits them very hard and procs her Talent’s AoE explosions. This is very effective in killing pretty much everything even without damage stacks, you just need Sniper stacks. Mudrock will be your main line holder, ideally spinning perpetually like the love child of a ballerina and a bulldozer.

Skadi the Corrupting Heart and Gnosis are useful to build after these three are online. Corrupting Heart’s buffs and healing are effective, while Gnosis is an excellent controller. Raise equivalents if you don’t have them. Having another Defender is good, for when multiple lanes must needs be dealt with. Your Medic is there for the latter half, when ranged tiles start taking damage. Personally, I got a lot of use out of Weedy (S3 with Vanguard stacks), as pushing people really far out and having them go through the Suzu Zone again was very useful to stall for time when RNG was bad to me and I couldn’t get GG online fast enough. A Pusher is a good idea. I personally like Angelina and Ling as well to Control in a pinch. Ranged Vanguards like Blacknight or Beanstalk are useful in giving units like Corrupting Heart or your Medic faster SP charge.

Prioritize getting GG online first on the first four maps, prioritize getting Suzu online first on the last four. Control is much more important early later on. Feel out each map to know when you should be placing Mudrock.

This isn’t a comprehensive guide, this is a gameplan that worked for me (based on Yanfly’s method of dealing with SSS) and that hopefully works out for you. Make pew pew go very fast, make enemy go very slow, rake in profit, succeed in front of the girls.

[heysorrywriting]

Not in Kansas Anymore - Part 1 (M)

Natasha Romanoff’s perspective:

This was definitely a weird one. The operation itself was pretty standard; break into the Hydra site, locate and recover a hostage, then exfiltrate. Nothing she and the rest of the team hadn’t done dozens of times before. What made it weird was the person who had given them the tip about it. He was, as far as Natasha understood, a wizard. That was weird, and his name, Dr. Strange, seemed a little on the nose to her. According to him, Hydra scientists might have made progress towards breaking into another reality, as he and his fellow sorcerers had, in his words, felt a disturbance in the fabric of reality. She would’ve questioned all of this had Nick Fury himself not stated that he trusted this Dr. Strange person. Fury’s word carried a lot of weight for Natasha, so she decided not to think about the whole wizard thing too hard. Instead, she simply prepared herself for the operation as she usually would.

Natasha looked down through the window of the helicopter, her eyes moving about as she searched for the abandoned shipping yard that Strange claimed was the origin point of the dimensional disturbance. Upon seeing it, she stood up from her seat and began prepping her equipment. Two suppressed sidearms, both with several reserve magazines each, a custom catsuit with strategically located ballistic armor and SAPI plates, and a ballistic helmet with night-vision goggles attached to it. The plan was to cut the facility’s power and use the dark environment to disorient and pick off any hostiles in the AO. Again, routine stuff for SHIELD.

The helicopter lowered to about forty feet off the ground and fast ropes were deployed. Grabbing on, Natasha descended to the ground and led her group of five SHIELD agents into the main building. The operation got off to a good start, as usual. Breaches went off without any hitches, any hostiles they encountered were swiftly taken down, and there were no equipment malfunctions. Natasha glanced down at the GPS mounted to the bracer on her left wrist, taking note that they were almost on top of the coordinates that Strange had provided them. After consulting the map of the facility, she deduced that whatever had caused the disturbance was in the room in front of them.

“Alright everyone, stack up and prepare for a breach.”

Her agents did as they were told and entered the room on Natasha’s command. There were a few armed guards inside, but they were all shot before they could react to the intruders. After making sure that the room was clear, Natasha holstered her weapons and took in her surroundings. There was a lot of high-tech equipment scattered around, notably a large circular device pushed up against the far wall, and in the center of the room there was a young man strapped to what looked to be an operating table. Natasha walked to the side of the table to get a closer look and tightened her jaw at what she saw. He was alive, but only just. His skin was littered with deep bruises and it looked like he had several broken ribs. All signs that he’d been tortured by Hydra for a long time. She looked at his face and her heart broke. He looked to be in a troubled sleep; barely audible whimpers emanated from his slightly open mouth. Poor thing is probably in so much pain, Natasha thought as she reached over and put her hand at the base of his head, lifting it up slightly. His eyes didn’t open, but he nuzzled his head into her hand, clearly finding some sort of comfort in her touch even in his unconscious state. Natasha smiled for a moment before refocusing herself and began detaching the various wires and IV’s attached to the unconscious man. Gathering him up in her arms, she then turned to her team, “Alright, package secured, I’ll need you all to keep me covered on the way back out.” Her teammates nodded and formed a defensive circle around her. This formation was maintained until they returned to the landing zone.

Not wanting to hang around any longer than was necessary, the team loaded the mystery man and themselves onto the helicopter and gave the pilots the go-ahead to return to base. Looking down at the unconscious boy she had laid across her lap, Natasha wondered what had led to him being taken to that shipping yard. She knew that she wouldn’t have the answer until they arrived, but she couldn’t help but wonder as she took in his tired and battered features. He was the only captive in that shipping yard and Hydra usually took captives in groups, so there had to be something special about him. Between that, the wizard’s involvement, and the weird equipment found earlier, Natasha knew that there was more to this person than meets the eye.

[nightwingshero]

❝  you don’t understand.  i need you safe.  not because i don’t think you can handle yourself but because i can’t focus on anything else if there’s even the smallest possibility you’re in danger.  ❞ -> for wren x leon <3

This prompt was honestly so perfect for them! Thank you so much! I had so much fun writing this and I love them so much.

It was mostly the screaming that made standing there hard, but it didn’t matter, that was secondary. Women and children cried to themselves as I gently pushed their shoulders, urging them along and guiding them to the safe zone as fathers, husbands, and brothers did their best to stay strong. “Nobody panic, just keep moving! We have a safe zone for quarantine set up just over there! Medics will be around to assess you! Food and water will be handed out!” After everything I had seen over the last few years, after everything that happened in Raccoon City, I thought I would be used to it by now, but I didn’t. It wasn’t easier, it never got easier. A woman passed and gripped my hand tightly as I tried to point her in the right direction, but she just sobbed and smiled, thanking me and praying in a language that I didn’t quite understand. All I could do was offer her a reassuring squeeze of her hand in return and gently guide her back to the crowd. “Stay with the crowd, you’re safe now!”

No one replies, I don’t think any of them understand me, but they got the idea enough to go where we needed them. Exhaustion threatened to overcome me, but I forced it down. We had been at this for hours. The outbreak was thankfully limited to a specific area, but that didn’t make it any less heartbreaking to watch, no less traumatic. Some days were harder than others where I was thrown back into my 21-year-old self, frightened and alone, running around a city full of the walking dead. Not entirely alone, I reminded myself, allowing the thought of him comfort me as much as the situation would allow.

I say nothing as Alex appears at my right, standing just behind my shoulder and watching as the last of the stragglers finally stumble into the arms of waiting TerraSave volunteers, all prepared to help those in need. Alex let out a low whistle at the number of people that had been evacuated, but I knew the casualties far outweighed the survivors. They usually did. Eager to shove that thought aside, I finally speak.

“Claire moves fast.”

Alex glanced at me, her dark eyes looking me over carefully. “She doesn’t hesitate to jump to the rescue. It’s one of the reasons I love her. Such a hero. I think she might save us all one day.” I didn’t ignore the way her voice became soft at the mention of her girlfriend, which was so contradictory towards how roughed up she was—grime and blood painting her tan skin too easily.

“Chris?”

“Not sure. Last I heard he was with Jill, but I’m not sure if they’re gonna show up here. Something came up with Imogen.” Another glance from her as I let out a scoff, the redhead immediately making me want to strangle her without her even being present. Sometimes I wondered just how much I could get away with if she ever mysteriously disappeared. “I heard that an agent was sent in. That your boy we should be expecting?”

I tried swallowing, but the arid air seemed to make it impossible. Everything felt so dry even as the sun began to set. It wasn’t that I didn’t know the answer, it was the fact that I knew that answer and it made me even more nervous. I was used to jumping between the Redfields—helping Chris where he needed and offering counseling where Claire wanted to offer it. Alex joked often about how I didn’t know how to stand still, but I was just eager to use every skill I had.

It also made the lonely nights less frequent when he was gone.

“Ah shit, there he is.” Alex called in surprise, her voice taking a lighter tone as her hands rested on her hips. Sure enough, Leon appeared from the crowd with one of the military officers in charge of the security and keeping those things from getting an inch out of the perimeter they had set up. He didn’t look too different than any other time I had seen him, his usual blue shirt with the same damn pants. The leather jacket was a bit new though, not that I exactly minded. Alex sighed. “Does he ever like…change it up? Like, I’m pretty fucking sure he’s had the same damn haircut since I’ve met him. Guess if it works, why fix it?” As if hearing her, Leon’s attention shifted and finally landed on us. The soldier he was talking to said something else, but Leon just nodded without even looking at him before he started walking towards us. Another heavy exhale escaped from Alex. “This is soooo not the double date I had imagined.”

I fight the urge to tell her to fuck off, not when she helped get my mind off things. Alex was a lot of things and dependable was one of them. You could always rely on her to have your back or to joke at the most inappropriate times—sometimes it made me want to hit her, other times it made me want to hug her. As Leon finally came close, his eyes never quite leaving me, I was thankful that Alex stayed. “Leon.”

“Wren.” He breathed out and I almost lost it right then. It had been a while since we had seen each other, one of the longer stints, and it was the constant reminder of the situation—and Alex—that kept the tremble out of my voice and my knees from giving out completely. “I thought you were working with Dr. Spencer.”

“Ainsley is working on something with Rebecca. Carlos volunteered to stay behind—”

Alex snorted. “He practically begged. So whipped—”

“Then we got the call about this.” I finished as I gestured back towards the small town in the middle of nowhere. “We got the call, Chris couldn’t make it out, I guess. Alex and I are here, Claire just got here with TerraSave.”

“Yeah I just saw her.” Leon replied as he looked back, his thumb gesturing over his shoulder. “Seems she’s got her hands a bit full.”

“A bit.” I tried to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite meet my eyes. This wasn’t the way I wanted us to see each other again. Leon shuffled and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes glancing at Alex. Taking the hint, she cleared her throat and smiled at me.

“Right, so I think my lovely lady is waiting for me to swoop in and make her life easier by giving her someone she can order around.” She backed away while doing awkward finger guns. “If you need me, radio me.” I gave her a quick nod before turning to Leon.

“They debriefed you.” It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway.

“They did.” Taking a deep breath, I turn and look back at the town we had just come back from. There were soldiers walking the perimeter, everyone on the lookout just in case. “I have to go in, there’s something I’m ordered to retrieve.”

My head whipped around. “Something here? What?”

“That’s classified—”

“Classified, right.” We finished the sentence at the same time as I nodded. It wasn’t that I was bitter about it, I understood—it wasn’t something I was a stranger to. Glancing towards the town, my heart grew heavy. “Its…just like Raccoon City, huh? Every time we do something good, it’s great. But then…history repeats itself and we’re thrown right back there…” I trailed off with the memories threatening to take over completely. Leon was silent for a moment and as the silence grew tense, I decided to brush it off. “Well…that’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. I’m assuming you’re ready to go?” I barely gave him a chance to nod, I knew him well enough. He didn’t come here totally unprepared. It was a battle to tell him that most of the time, things never went the way we wanted when it came to that. The mission to retrieve Ashley was more than proof of that, but I wasn’t eager to bring that up. “That’s fine. I can grab some ammo and supplies; I’ll go with you. Let me—”

Leon reached out and grabbed my arm gently, stopping me before I could take a full step from him. I frowned as he leaned forward a bit, whispering to me even though it was barely audible with the chaos around us. “No. You should stay here.”

“What?”

“You came here to help Claire, right? Stay and help her.”

I scoffed lightly, almost amused by his words as I gently stepped out of his hold. “I came here to help, period. Now, let me help you.” Leon just shook his head and my brow furrowed. “Why? You know I have your back.”

“I know that.”

“Then what’s the problem? I’m just as good at fighting, Leon. I may not be able to just roundhouse kick someone in the face the way you can, but what I lack in that, I make up in shooting zombies in the face or throwing knives. I’m sure you remember I’m a very good aim with a shotgun.” I argued, throwing in the fond memory of how we met to try and loosen him up, trying to convince him it was fine—I was fine.

He looked away for a moment and shook his head. “I know—Its not about that, Wren.”

“Then what’s it about?” I asked, stepping closer to press him. “C’mon. We’ve worked together before, we do that rather well, if memory serves me right.”

“I said it wasn’t about that—”

“And we’re partners, remember?” I asked, putting up my pinky with a small smile, hoping it hid the hurt or the way my heart was starting to twist in an uncomfortable manner. Leon just looked down at me, his blue eyes full of emotion, and as the seconds passed, I waited but he didn’t lift his pinky. My chest twisted even more as my smile fell, something so small impacted me so greatly as I searched his face, my tightening from the confusion and hurt. “Leon?” This wasn’t what I was expecting. I swallowed as my heart pounded, begging for some sort of answer. I waited for a sarcastic joke, some stupid one liner he’d throw my way that would make me roll my eyes or just tease him right back—flirty and fun banter to keep the dark away. But none of that happened. I clenched my fists tightly as I looked at him fiercely. “Partners. I am coming with you, Leon.”

“No, you’re not. I can’t take you with me, I—just please, stay here. Claire needs the help—”

“You need the help!” I hissed and pointed towards the town. “You need me in there with you. I can fight, Leon. You know I can—”

“Its not about that, Wren.” He repeated earnestly, but I wasn’t having it.

“Then tell me what it’s about Leon, because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“You don’t understand.” Leon took a step closer as his voice became full of emotion, his fingers digging into his chest as he continued. “I need you safe. Not because I don’t think you can handle yourself but because I can’t focus on anything else if there’s even the smallest possibility you’re in danger.”

I blinked and stumbled back half a step, not sure exactly how to feel as his words wrapped around my mind and began to truly sink in. Shaking my head in what almost felt like denial, or just not quite understanding the way he seemed to believe, I breathed out in disbelief. “I—Leon, nothing has changed—”

“Everything has changed.” He cut me off as he closed what little distance, I had put between us, and his hands began to cradle my face. “Everything.” I just shook my head more. “Since…fuck, since the beginning. Since we had to fight our way through the city, since…what came after that. Then I thought I lost you, only to run into in that damn village…everything is different.”

“I had your back in all of that.” I insisted, a lump forming in my throat as I gripped his arms tightly, my thumbs rubbing reassuring circles. “We got through all of it fine, we can do this together. We always do.”

“There won’t be a second where I won’t be worried about you, where I could make a mistake because I can’t help but make sure you’re okay.”

“And if you leave me here? How do you think I will feel? Constantly worried, not knowing if you’re getting out alive and wondering if me not going is the very thing that ensures that you don’t?”

Leon jerked back slightly as if he was shocked by the words, but it didn’t last long. “I trust you with my life, but I need you to trust me with it, too. Its…I need you to just sit out on this one.” I go to protest, but he quickly shakes his head as his thumb gently caresses my bottom lip, and I keep silent as he continues. “I just…I know what’s in there, Wren, and I just…need you here.”

“I…I fight all the time, Leon. I work with Chris…” It’s a feeble attempt at this point, we both know it, but he respects it all the same.

“If there’s anyone here that I trust with my life completely, it’s you. Of course it’s you. But fighting in Spain…scared the shit out of me. Just this once, please…just stay.” Leon softly pleaded as he pressed his forehead against mine. “For me.”

The tears were hard to fight when I replied, my voice thick with them. “You better come back, or I’ll kick your ass, Leon Kennedy.” His laugh was more of a sigh of relief as he kissed my forehead.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Pulling away, I glared at him through teary eyes.

“I mean it. If something happens to you, Alex and I are going to drag you out so I can kill you myself.”

“Fair enough.” He offered a slight smile as he raised his pinky. “It’s a promise?” Glaring at him for a few more seconds, I finally wrapped my pinky around his.

“I hate you for this.”

For the first time since he showed his face, he offered his smug smirk, chasing away the heaviness between us. “We both know I’m good at making it up to you. See you soon.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, but my chest continued to ache as he disappeared.

I turned and began to make my way into the quarantine zone, intent on making sure I was so busy that I wouldn’t allow myself to think, and as I spotted and headed towards Alex and Claire, I couldn’t help but mutter to myself. "Just had to fall for the fucking cop.”

[cybershadow]

🎥

Paper? Check.

Window open at exactly forty-two-point-five degrees to her left? Check.

Computer? Check.

It’s cool for the desert. Dust and sand particles dance in the air as stillness and sudden movement collide in a violent crash. One moment she resembles a statue, seemingly staring into space, perhaps lost; then she jumps up and corrects a line, muttering to herself in a blend of languages. Then, back to still. The only sign of life this early into dawn is the rustling from Cyber, whipping her jacket off. It was in her way, but the particles can have a bed until this code breaks.

Cyber’s crouching. On her toes as she writes the program on the siding of the abandoned safehouse, head flicking between it and screen. Comparing, contrasting, improving for the task at hand. Semicolon, make sure spelling is right; possible bug here, use it to make a trap; fake C++ and don’t let anyone know your language. If anyone asks her, she says Python. She has said her language aloud before, but whether anyone cares enough to pay attention to that small detail isn’t in her control. A variable, one that she prepares for every time. And so far, the odds have been in her favour. 

For a few moments her focus lies entirely on the wall. Her eyes moving upward and forcing her to lie on her back to see high enough, going down line by line until her tunnel vision ends. Her thoughts are on fire, racing around rather than trying to put the flames out. They’re helpful, the fire pushes her forward, making her think where others won’t. She scratches the side of her head with her pencil, and she can almost hear the wood popping from the heat in her brain, can almost feel the aged graphite melting alongside the rusted metal holding the missing eraser in place and can almost smell the smoke. Is it from the pencil or her own mind racing, moving too fast for human comfort. Will it crash like a computer or keep going? 

Cyber doesn’t know that answer yet, but she hopes she doesn’t crash quite yet. She rubs her eyes when her vision spins. Ringing in her ear makes her pause. Not now, out of all the times, not now. Do it when I sleep, please; you can misfire then.

She doesn’t collapse. Somehow. Maybe it’s the silence wrapping her in focus and a calm that surpasses any meltdown that her mind could have. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t care to know at this moment. There are bigger priorities to worry about. This code, this new program, Jinx, is a priority. 

It worked once in a test run; but it has to be better. Untraceable. A better DECAE or DUST. She can’t settle for mediocre work in this field, it’s succeed or die. A game of mimicry, mimicking a gun with a keyboard and calculus. 

One bad aim, one misfire and it’s game over. She knows that, and yet she straddles between recklessness and safety. A fine line between giving everything away and giving the city nothing, her favourite game. A game of cat and mouse, zone roulette. When she first started Cyber got caught plenty of times, she learned. Learned from failings and never revealed her successes. Only the bits that are important reveal themselves, secrets after secret after secret. Her safety net, tied with secrets and a twisted past secured by computer coding. Cut into the net, cut into Cyber, and get more code and more secrets. Protection through her own created cybersecurity without the network. Networks are too dangerous. 

 Cyber does a wolf turn to face her computer again, transferring the code into the screen, line by line. Planting digital bombs and traps when a possibility for a bug forms. Debugging but adding rubber ones. Jinx will be a handful like the others, but if it saves one more life–

If this program does anything better, then it’s worth it. 

Right? 

If this one works better than the others, will people see how she wishes to help?

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Speak my Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Synopsis: After being ambushed by orcs, you are left alone at your isolated camp to bleed out. However, your loyal friend, a “tyger” from Far Harad, has other plans in mind—tracking down another camp nearby, comprised of nine warriors, in search of aid for you.

Pairings: a bit of Legolas x Reader. I’m a simp for him, okay?

Warnings: blood, mentions of an attack, hurt/comfort

The attack came too fast and too swiftly. Orcs weren’t supposed to reside in this area of the forest, or so you thought. It was almost as if something were driving them to your location, like dolphins chasing down fish to the shores of oceans.

Whatever may be the case, and whoever the fish in this scenario were, you were the one left severely injured.

It started with a flickering of your tyger’s ear. Comrade, as you named him, was an exotic breed of big cat, from the furthermost southern jungles of Far Harad, where the likes of oliphaunts also roamed.

You had met the large orange, striped cat on a mission to spring all kinds of animals free on the southern shores of Middle-earth. The Haradrim were responsible for this illegal smuggling trade, though you knew someone far larger was behind it.

A mystery was unfolding in Middle-earth before your eyes. Orcs in odd locations, secret illicit activities in dark harbours, and a growing disbalance in the ecosystem.

Setting the stampeding oliphaunts loose, the wooden crates on the foggy harbour soon burst into chaos. Men ran everywhere, both trying to save themselves and their jobs.

As ropes and hooks were cast into the grey flesh of the loudly trumpeting beasts, you snuck out. However, on your escape route, a rabid, hissing animal caught your attention.

You had never seen a cat like him before, and knew instantly he was out of sorts amongst the scenery of Middle-earth. What on earth would he need stripes to blend in with? You figured he was more used to tall savannahs, if anything.

Tentatively, and knowing all could go wrong for yourself, you unlatched the lock containing your soon-to-be friend.

He leapt out and crouched lowly before you, arching his back and sizing up your neck. His teeth were large and yellow at the gums, as he flashed them viciously.

However, making the first move, you slowly showed him your empty hands, and kneeled down. A slight change in his attitude was present, as his hisses ceased and his ears unpinned themselves.

And when a Haradrim man came at you, well, all that was left were ribbons of flesh and a new partner for you.

Ever your noble protector, Comrade lifted his head from your lap, where you were running your hands through his now twitching ears.

“What is it, boy?” you cooed, tracing the black stripes on his head.

A low growl had begun to form at the back of his throat, and you stilled your hand. Though a level of trust had been formed between you both throughout the three years you walked alongside him, he was still a wild animal at the end of the day.

You took into account the twitching of his tail, and your heart stopped. You always feared Comrade might one day turn around and attack you like he did to those Haradrim. Small housecats were bad enough with mood-swings as it was.

Eyeing up his large paws, where claws the size of small shanks appeared, you grew clammy. However, a distant snapping of a branch beyond the dark trees both settled and rose your nerves.

Glancing up from Comrade, you followed his keen line of sight past your little campfire. You stared for what felt like minutes, until another branch snapping sounded the alarms.

Comrade immediately lifted himself from your lap, and stood tall. The power in his sudden movement scared you, and you found yourself jolting to your own feet.

All you had on you was a small dagger, for you liked to think of yourself as a “wise pacifist”.

You drew it in front of yourself, and scared breaths racked your chest. Comrade was pacing the dirt in front of you, eyes forever trained on the forest, tail swishing.

And then, the attack came.

A slaughter occurred between the trees and before the fire, and though you managed to assist with many kills, Comrade in the end was the clear victor.

However, one tyger against ten orcs was not entirely fair.

In the aftermath, you found yourself with your back rested against a tree—your hand clutching a dagger in your abdomen.

Orcs bodies lay strewn around, some missing heads, others with their intestines spilled on the upturned dirt. Most, however, had their jugulars torn out.

Comrade had just put to rest his last orc, and turned his panting, blood-soaked snout back to you at the sound of a small whimper. The previously feral glint in his eyes subsided, as he observed your mewling state.

Your hand clutched the pommel of the dagger, as you struggled to not look at it—favouring to keep your eyes screwed shut instead, and your chin lifted high.

He immediately thudded one paw in front of the other, as he came to stand beside you. He sniffed the dagger, and made a small sound reminiscent of chuffing to your face. He nudged his nose with your cheek, willing you to look at him.

When you did, you found amber eyes, brimming with concern, looking back at you.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” you tried with a small smile, but mewled again through the pain of speaking.

He chuffed once more, and tried to inspect the dagger. You gently pushed his head away, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Understanding the severity of your state, he lifted his neck and stood tall. Flickering his ears in all directions, Comrade scoped out the forest. He could hear the sounds of night for many miles—owls hooting, mice rustling, squirrels climbing and…men chatting lowly around a crackling fire.

They did not sound like orcs, and turning his nose to the air above, Comrade knew instantly they were not. Instead, the scent of men and elves lingered in the breeze, and something new he hadn’t encountered before.

Without glancing back at you, he took off running through the woods.

Watching him leave in confusion, you knitted your brows. However, the throbbing split in your stomach soon burned away again, and you were left crying alone through bared teeth.

On the other side of the forest, just a few miles away, the Fellowship’s camp resided. The loss of Gandalf still rippled through the colleagues and friends like an unsettled lake, and not much was found beyond quiet chatter.

The topic, primarily, was of Lothlorien—the beautiful kingdom they had just reluctantly left.

Sat on a log, and grimacing as he ate rabbit meat off of a bone—quite different from the prepared salads with small chunks of chicken he had grown up with—Legolas watched the fire.

His fingers were sticky, and his nose was scrunched, as he attempted to eat said meat.

Next, Gimli’s chuckles filled the air.

The laughter silenced everyone, for it was the first time anyone had laughed since Moria.

Lifting his eyes, Legolas found Gimli laughing at him. “What is it?”

“A bit out of your comfort zone, aren’t we?” Gimli chuckled back, motioning to the prince’s fingers.

Legolas’ lips fell into a sarcastic frown. “That’s because I was actually raised with the idea of comfort to begin with.”

Gimli dismissively waved his hand. “All I’m hearing is pretty excuses.”

Legolas placed a sticky hand over his chest, and batted his lashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

A smirk grew on Gimli’s lips, as he pointed at the faint outline of grease on Legolas’ Lothlorien tunic.

Losing his own smirk, Legolas looked down at the clothing and sneered upon realizing his mistake.

Laughter rippled through the camp, and a few added on their own taunts in an effort to keep the happy atmosphere alive, even if at the prince’s expense.

However, Legolas had since tuned out. His head was over his shoulder, his pointed ears twitching, as he eyed off the forest behind. Distantly, snapping twigs and thudding paws could be heard.

“Don’t you think, Legolas?” Boromir laughed, slowly reeling the elf’s concerned attention back in to him. “Legolas? I said, don’t you—”

“Shh!” Legolas cut him off, whipping his head over his shoulder again.

Aragorn was the first to cease his relaxed nature, as he knew the cautious elf well-enough.

“Someone’s a bit of a soft—” Gimli had gone to say, before Legolas shushed him again.

Snapping his eyes to his friends, Legolas hastily whispered, “Do you not hear that?”

“We don’t have your—”

“Hush, let him speak,” Aragorn interjected, earning the obedience of the camp. “What is it, Legolas?”

“Something large and ambitious approaches from behind,” Legolas answered, scanning his eyes over his shoulder again.

Just as the elf did, the Fellowship dragged their sights along the trees. Slowly, following Legolas’ words and now actions, the entire camp rose to their feet and clutched their weapons.

The hobbits all nervously eyed one another, as the four stronger warriors stood in front. They each all watched the trees, and their hearts pounded faster, for they, too, could now hear what Legolas was explaining.

Loud thumps reached their ears, as did beastly panting. Legolas drew an arrow, and aimed it in preparation.

And then, Comrade burst into the camp.

The hobbits screamed in shock—in fact, both Gimli and Boromir shouted, too.

The tyger paced before them all, chuffing loudly in communication. Legolas, understanding all living things, heard the tyger speak.

Please! I need your help! My friend, she’s hurt—wounded by orcs!

Legolas lowered his arrow, much to the horror of the others.

“What are you doing?” Boromir screeched. “Shoot it down! It’s rabid! Look at the blood coating its mouth!”

“It is orc blood,” Legolas slowly drew out, knitting his brows in the direction of the tyger. “And he says he needs our help?”

Aragorn glanced at Legolas wide-eyed, and they shared a look—one dripping in superior knowledge.

Legolas made a show of disarming himself of his bow, and spoke back to the tyger in a way only elves could.

Take us to her.

The tyger turned around instantly, and began running into the woods. Aragorn and Legolas followed.

“Wait,” Pippin exclaimed in confusion, as everyone left him behind. “Has he always been able to speak with animals?! Did everyone else know this but me?!”

“Hurry up, Pippin!”

Comrade had left you twenty minutes ago, and you felt an uncontrollable shiver run through your body. It was a shiver that, despite being close to the fire, was continuous.

Your teeth chattered, and your stomach coiled at the blood soaking you. It was all over the front of your tunic, and continuing to spread. You hadn’t removed the dagger as of yet—too afraid of both the consequences and the pain simultaneously.

You felt both dizzy and tired, and only wanted a nap. Just as you were beginning to close your eyes, frantic thudding in the distance could be heard.

Weakly, you turned your eyes to the trees Comrade had left through, and waited for either your friend or more orcs to appear.

However, what you were not expecting, was a blonde elf to burst through the dark with your tyger.

The tall elf skidded to a stop a few yards before you, and gasped sharply. His widened eyes raked over your paling, clammy body in alarm.

“Oh my goodness!” he cussed, before throwing his eyes over his shoulder. “Aragorn! Come quickly!”

Next, a man burst into view. Behind him, another man, dwarf and four hobbits followed. Though, for all you knew, they were children.

White dots filled your vision, and you soon felt very delirious, as if in a dream.

The elf rushed forwards, and fell to his knees beside you. He brushed your hair out of your face to observe your half-lidded eyes, where he then spoke.

“Y/n? Y/n, are you all right? Your friend, Comrade, told me of you. Can you hear me?”

All you could make out of his face were two brilliantly blue eyes. A white, angelic light encompassed him otherwise, and the blonde hair certainly didn’t help.

You garnered a sort of dazed smile, as you scanned his blinding face. “You’re an angel, aren’t you? Sent from above? Oh thank goodness—I thought I was going to go alone.”

Listening to your soft voice, the brunette man with greasy hair dropped beside the elf.

“Her strength fails and her light fades,” Aragorn commented. He scanned his eyes over your wound. “I shall use athelas to treat the bleeding, but…this may be beyond us.”

Legolas looked at Aragorn in horror, before looking down at you again. Two deaths on his hands in such a short amount of time? The immortal elf couldn’t—wouldn’t—process it.

“We are not yet too far from Lothlorien,” Legolas pointed out, studying your tired face. “We can turn around and leave her in the hands of Galadriel and her kin. They will heal her.”

“We haven’t time to double-back and risk the orcs,” Boromir pointed out.

Next, Legolas gestured at all the strewn bodies of the camp. “It appears our fault she dies in the first place. She felt safe enough to camp in these woods, and rightfully so, but we brought the orcs with us. We must help her. She’s our duty now.”

“Legolas is right,” Aragorn agreed, crushing athelas in his hands with water from his pouch. “The orcs are only in these woods because they track us. Legolas, you are the fastest here and know these trees second-best to me. You will take her back to Lothlorien and then take the journey three times faster to catch up with us.”

Legolas nodded his head in understanding, and felt your hand. It was cold, shivering and sweaty. He swallowed his nerves.

“You might want to hold her further,” Aragorn quietly pointed out to Legolas, gesturing to your hand.

The elf noticed the prepared athelas paste, and the ranger’s hand hovering over the intruding dagger’s pommel. Next, Aragorn spoke to you.

“Y/n, my name is Aragorn. I am going to help heal you, and then Legolas here will rush you back to Lothlorien. I am going to remove the dagger to decrease further injury. It will hurt for a moment. Do you understand?”

“Legolas?” you repeated in confusion, looking up at the aforementioned prince. “Oh, yes—him. He’s an angel.”

Aragorn smiled briefly, especially at the creeping blush on his friend’s pointed ears, until you looked back at him and took into account his dirty presentation. “You, on the other hand, are not an angel.”

Comrade, having been pacing the dirt on your free side, came to lay beside you, recognising what was about to happen next.

Aragorn politely curled his lips at your delirious insult, and quickly tore the dagger from your abdomen.

As if supporting a woman through birth, Legolas’ mewls were louder than your own, for the hand of yours he held clenched tightly.

Aragorn got to work quickly, and began applying the athelas to your now bleeding wound. You cried softly, as you felt the pain both grow and lessen.

Finding comfort through your dizzy haze in the thumbpad stroking your knuckles, you squeezed the same hand again, and were pleasantly surprised to find it squeezing back.

Gimli, Boromir and the hobbits watched on—nervously observing both the tyger lying beside you, and your hurt form.

“Lothlorien is a night’s run behind us. She needs a different tunic to reduce the risk of infection,” said Aragorn, using a makeshift cloth to wipe the blood away from you.

Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line, and nodded. He briefly let go of your hand, much to your vocal discomfort, and grabbed the bottom hems of his tunic. He lifted the green material over his head, and was left with nothing but a long-sleeved, white undershirt.

As Aragorn wrapped your chest with what he could find on him that’d temporarily work as a bind, Legolas patiently waited.

After your wound was tended to, Aragorn leant over to speak with you. “Your wound is dressed, Y/n. Legolas will now take care of you until Lothlorien. You are in good, capable hands. I promise.”

You mustered the strength to nod back, despite white dots still filling your vision.

Aragorn clasped Legolas’ shoulder and nodded, to which he nodded back. Then, the ranger turned and told the rest of the Fellowship to head back to camp.

Having ensured everyone was out of sight, Legolas looked down at you again.

“May I please change your tunic? I will close my eyes, but it has to be done—the blood will lead to infection if not dealt with.”

However, you stilled gazed up at him with a silly smile. Considering all he wore was now white, you believed your suspicions of him being an angel correct.

After a moment, his words finally drifted through your mind, like a lone leaf on a lazy river, and you nodded.

Legolas raised a hand to the hem of your tunic, and hooked his fingers underneath, but was halted by the sudden growling and standing of Comrade.

You dare touch her in such a state? I sought you out for help!

I am an elven prince, mellon. Trust me when I say; it is not even remotely possible in my genetic nature to do such a thing.

Well, trust me when I say; it is most definitely in my genetic nature to go for the jugular—always.

Understood, but you must let me help her. Have we not done so already? Let me complete assisting her, and then you shall follow me to Lothlorien.

The snarling lips of the tyger curled for a minute, as he stared across at the determined elf over your body—face to face.

Slowly, his growls died.

Fine. Just know, however, I am watching you every step of the way.

Well, that makes one of us.

As he promised, Legolas closed his eyes. He carefully, but swiftly lifted your blood-soaked tunic and tossed it aside.

Fumbling for a few minutes, as he did so blind, Legolas dressed you in his own green tunic. It was large on you, more like a short dress, but did the job of concealing your wounded form.

At some point, you had nearly drifted off to sleep, but a gentle cooing of Legolas brought you back.

“Hey, you must stay awake for now, all right? I am going to carry you to a lovely kingdom, and you will be taken care of. All I ask in return is that you keep me company with conversation the whole way. Can you please do that for me?”

Exhaling past your nose through your fatigue, you fluttered your hazy eyes open again.

Searching Legolas’ own, you nodded.

“Okay,” you promised.

“Good girl,” Legolas replied. He then gently scooped you into his arms like a bride, and checked in with Comrade.

Are you a fast runner?

Is that even a question?

To further his point, Comrade sprinted off into the trees, leaving Legolas jogging behind him. And, just as you promised, you spoke softly to him the whole way—mostly of his “angelic eyes”—and he delivered on his promise, of quite literally delivering you to Lothlórien.

Surprising Legolas most, however, was the new promise you made after healing by the aid of Galadriel’s hand, just a few days after your arrival. 

Upon learning of what exactly was disturbing your ecosystem in Middle-earth, you told Legolas he would not be making the journey back to his friends alone, for he had gained two new ones. 

[lxffy]

first dates !

reader: gender neutral/no pronouns used !

ft. luffy, sanji, and robin !

warnings: could be modern!au if you’d like ! also last time i went to an amusement park i was like 7 so…

with so many fun activities and food at every corner, there’s no way LUFFY wouldn’t take you to an amusement park. there’s just so much to do, and he wants to do them all with you! he doesn’t waste any time and holds your hand firmly while dragging you walking around the park. there are so many different deserts to try that you guys end up blowing your food budget for the day. there were a lot of rides; extremely high ones, fast ones, ones that involved water, and scary ones! even the ones you aren’t sure of riding, he pushes you out of your comfort zone to show you just how much it can be. but he’ll never push it too far, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

what better way to swoon you is there than with SANJI’S own cooking? expect the first date to be an amazing, well thought out picnic. it was around 3pm when he took you out for your date so you guys would have ample time before the sun went down. he takes you to the most beautiful park you’ve ever seen and takes a secret path to a secluded area surrounded by a variety of flowers and trees, perfect for just the two of you. the picnic is already set up; baskets full of goodies, champagne or sparkling juice (your choice), and soft jazz music playing in the background. he opens up the basket and you see the assortment of sandwiches, salads, fruits, baked goods, and your favorite dish cooked to perfection. your comfort and approval comes before anything, so he makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as he is. the day ended with you in his arms watching the sun go down.

for a first date, ROBIN would love to meet up at a cafe before heading to one of her favorite museums. the cafe she picked felt so welcoming and cozy, you almost didn’t want to leave the place. their menu has the perfect drinks and baked goods, and she knew exactly what to get you. the museum was no longer than a 10 minute walk from the cafe and gave off the vibe that it was a perfect place to get to know someone. there were a variety of different showcases, even ones you’re interested in if you weren’t sure how much you’d like the museum. she picked this museum specifically because it had history on things you’d wonder about yourself. and without a doubt, she would hold your hand very lovingly to make sure neither of you guys get separated.

🏷: @underscar

join my taglist here!

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Growth Spurt

Jedediah Smith x Reader

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Summary: When a battle breaks out at the Smithsonian, you need all the help you can get. Your magic, however, has a mind of its own.

Note: Takes place during NATM 2. I’m a little out of my comfort zone on this one, so let me know what you think lol. I might be willing to write a part 2...?

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.3k

Reader is: Female

This was bad. Very, very bad. At the moment, you were in Washington D.C. Ahk’s brother was crazy, apparently, and he was recruiting all of the powerful villains he could possibly assemble, and he wanted to, basically, use the tablet to rule the world. Add to this the fact that he had captured Jed and stuck him in an hourglass.

Add to THAT the fact that he had snatched your family amulet from around your neck…you figured the man must have a death wish. If only he knew what he was messing with.

And yet, the forces he had assembled were too great for you to comfortably overpower without the rest of your friends present, so you figured it was best to keep your powers a secret, even if only to preserve the element of surprise.

“You got this, partner. I know you do.” Jed put his little hands against the glass, his eyes sad, but hopeful. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“But—”

“Go!”

“Come on,” Larry gave your arm a tug, and though your eyes lingered on poor little Jed, trapped there in the glass, you followed after Larry.

It was an odd friendship you shared with Jed. He flirted with you, you laughed. It was impossible. He was about an inch and a half tall. And yet, the flirting never stopped and he never hesitated to remind you of your beauty, especially when you doubted yourself the most. You were powerful and he admired you for that, but he also loved your laugh, your smile…he knew it was silly and that there was no chance of something serious between the two of you, but that didn’t seem to prevent him from trying…

Amelia caught up with the two of you easily and you caught her up on the situation at hand.

You checked in with a Theodore Roosevelt without a body, but he didn’t have much to contribute to the situation. Neither did the Thinker. And so, the three of you headed out across the campus in search for answers. If not, Jed’s hour in that hourglass would be his last.

“So, this cowboy friend of yours, are the two of you…?” Amelia asked.

“Are we what? Dating?”

“Yes, that. You care about him, that much is clear.”

“I mean, yeah, but it just wouldn’t work out.”

“And why not?”

“He’s a miniature.” Larry explained. “He’s about two inches tall.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “Well, that would complicate things, now wouldn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” You thought for a moment. “Hey, weren’t there some Einsteins in the Air and Space Museum? I bet they’d be able to help.”

Larry snapped. “Good thinking.”

So, after a brief chat with the Einsteins, the three of you took the Wright Brothers’ plane and crashed it through the window of the building Kahmunrah had set up base in. Amelia ran to get help and you hopped off of the plane and took refuge behind a pillar, watching as Larry argued with Kahmunrah, wracking your brain for something, anything, some spell that would work to get Jed out of that hour glass.

And then it clicked.

It was a longshot, and you knew that, but if it worked…

As soon as Larry got the hourglass, you called out, “Over here!”

“Sparkle Fingers!” Jed lit up.

Larry threw the hourglass to you and you caught it, flipping it so the side Jed was trapped in was on top.

“Seize her!” Kahmunrah shouted.

You booked it as fast as you could down the hall and around a corner, listening as Kah’s guards passed, and once they were a safe distance away, you exhaled a long breath.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me in there.” Jed smiled softly up at you. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“Well, there’s something my grandmother used to say. She said magic is really very simple; you just have to want something and then let yourself have it.”

“So…?”

“Hold still.” You told him, your power festering around your fingertips. You flicked it down and the purple rays shined through the glass, straight onto Jed.

“Hey, what is that?” Jed asked, somewhat fearful. “What did you do? I feel…weird.”

You bent down and set the hourglass on the floor, taking a few steps back and bracing.

Jed groaned, and then, all at once, the hourglass around him exploded as he grew to human size. He looked down at himself, holding his hands in front of his face as he moved his fingers. He kicked the pieces of the hourglass aside with his foot and looked up at you, his face awash in awe. “Holy smokes, Sparkle Fingers! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. You gulped. “Neither did I.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got some more in you. I have a feeling this night is far from over.”

You chuckled, “Me too.”

***

Once the battle was over and the dust had settled, Jed walked straight up to you, a nervous look on his face, his usual confidence dwindled now that he was standing face to face with you after all of this time.

“I…don’t know how much longer your spell is gonna last, so I’ve gotta do this now.” He said, taking off his hat and handing it to Larry, who was, understandably, shocked at the scene unfolding before him. Jed grabbed you by the hips and tugged you into a kiss, his lips exploring yours without hesitation. You kissed him back, your arms winding around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

The rest of the museum exhibits, who had seen your relationship with Jed grow over the years cheered alongside your new friends, and when the kiss ended, Jed leaned his forehead against yours, smiling softly. His warm breath fanned across your cheeks.

He chuckled, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Oh!” He said, suddenly remembering something. He reached into his pocket and held up your amulet. “I believe this is yours.”

Your eyes widened and you stared at it. You were sure it had been lost when Kahmunrah had been pushed into the portal, but here it was, in perfect shape.

“You…how did you get it back?” You asked as Jed fastened the chain around your neck.

“Let’s just say Octavius and I have a few tricks up our sleeves.” He shrugged. “Speaking of…”

Octavius popped over the top of Jedidiah’s chest pocket. “Hello!”

“Hi, Oct.” You chuckled.

“At some point, I hope you feel so inclined to try that spell out on me.” Octavius said, causing you to smile. “If only to broaden my horizons.”

“When we get back to New York? Absolutely.” You promised.

Larry looked to Amelia. “Speaking of, Amelia, can you fly us home?”

“Certainly, Mr. Daley. It would be my honor.” Amelia nodded, grinning at the sight of you standing next to Jed.

He took your hand and pulled it to his lips, his fingers intertwining with yours. The whole flight back to New York, his arm wouldn’t leave your waist, and once you were finally back and inside the museum, Teddy had to do a double-take.

“Jedediah, my boy, is that you?”

“Had a growth spurt.” Jed shrugged, helping Octavius out of his pocket so he could get downstairs with the others. “And I feel like it’s gonna wear off soon…”

“Yeah…” You felt it, too. Your power slowly leaving him and you couldn’t do anything but watch as he shrank about an inch. And then another.

“Think I could get one more kiss for the road?” Jed asked.

You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, kissing him one last time before the magic wore off, and when you pulled away, he shrank the rest of the way, back down to his normal size.

“Thanks for the adventure, Sparkle Fingers.” He saluted up at you from his spot on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?”

He winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[amerrierworld]

Cigarette Smoke

for the request: top carol/reader smut? Thank youuu

Summary: Carol needs to get out of the house and asks you to come along.

Characters: Carol Aird x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,579

Warnings: smut smut top!Carol you’ve been warned (you’re the babysitter... again.. and things happen, plus at this point the Airds have divorced~)

You watched as cigarette smoke curled around her head. She had the newspaper spread over her lap and a cup of tea in the other hand. Inhaling deeply, the end of the cigarette lit up brightly, and you could smell the smoke where you were sitting, cradling your own cup of tea.

Harge had picked up Rindy half an hour ago, and Carol had immediately rung you to come by, before the silence could get to her. 

You were no longer the babysitter- they didn’t seem to need you anymore now that they worked with two separate schedules, and so Florence would watch over Rindy when needed.

But Carol stayed in touch; she called, asked about your job endeavours, interested in your life. And she would tell you about her ideas; things she wanted to do and see, but never initiated plans to go through with it. She was stuck, and you didn’t know if you knew how to pull her free.

“Just going for the shopping, ma’am,” Florence announced as she headed out the door. You didn’t know if it was just because you were here, but her voice and demeanour were always very tight and constrained around you, like she didn’t approve of something that you couldn’t put your finger on.

Carol let out a shuddering sigh as soon as the door shut behind Florence, grey smoke blowing out from her red-painted lips. Her eyes finally lifted up and met your own as you sipped your tea.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” she asked, nonchalantly, as she put out her cigarette in the ashtray. 

“Where?” you asked.

“Anywhere you’d like,” she said, folding the newspaper neatly. “I need some fresh air.”

You didn’t see any reason why not, so you got up as she went to slip on some shoes, grabbing a lightweight coat overtop her cream blouse. 

Carol pulled out of the driveway in the Packard with graceful ease, and you sank back in the passenger seat as you watched the landscape go by. 

Once in the city, Carol bought Rindy a new toy, and you got milkshakes at a small diner. She was awfully quiet, you noticed, and she popped the candied cherry in her mouth as her eyes glazed over like she was somewhere completely different.

“Carol...” you said, reaching over to hold her hand. The physical touch seemed to jolt her out of her zone and she looked at you like she saw you for the first time that day.

“Oh.. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she sighed, “I haven’t been very sociable, have I?”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” you said, squeezing her fingers, realizing her ring finger was missing a familiar golden band.

“No, no, goodness, please forgive me,” she said, shaking her head. “Now tell me, what’s new with you?”

You smiled, and chatted for a bit as you finished your milkshake. Carol ordered some sandwiches and fries while you kept talking, and you were so enamoured by watching her eat -you had only ever seen her use cutlery, and here she was, licking the salt from her fingers and munching down on finger food- that you didn’t notice the time passing by so quickly.

Carol talked about some redecoration ideas for the house, recent drama in her high-class friend group, and how fast Rindy seemed to be growing when she wasn’t home. 

“I would love to come by sometime when you have Rindy again,” you offered, 

“Oh- I wouldn’t be able to pay you, darling.”

“No, not as a job. I just wanted to say hi to her again,” you smiled, “no fee. I’ve just missed her, that’s all.”

Carol seemed a bit startled, surprised by your interest in her and her daughter, but then that bloomed into a sweet, familiar smile, and you enjoyed the way she reached over and squeezed your hand this time.

“Oh, dear, look at the time,” she realized, “I should get you home.”

“I could just get a cab...” you began, but she was already waving her hand in dismissal.

“No, no. I asked you here, drove you around, forced you to go out in public with me. The least I can do is drive you home.”

You blushed, and waited patiently as she paid. It seemed so natural, to get up and help her get her arm in one of her tricky coat sleeves, and follow her out to the car, and get inside and be swarmed by Carol’s perfume when you both shut the doors. 

The drive back to your home went by far too fast. It was already dark by the time you pulled up to your place, and Carol took a moment to stop and look at you from the driver’s seat.

“Thank you for spending time with me, sweetheart,” she said softly, “I know I can be... difficult, especially with what’s been happening. With me, I mean. You’re a very sweet girl for coming when I called.”

“I will always come when you call,” you replied without hesitating. The blonde was startled again, looking at you in the dark, your eyes shining back at her.

The muscles in her neck tensed, like she was contemplating something. Almost like when her mind seemed to wander someplace else, but now it was fixed only on you. And then she relaxed- like she’d been defeated in some internal battle.

Your heart jumped at the change,1 and you were filled with sudden bravery. Then, you said,

“Carol. Turn off the car?”

Without a word, she followed your command, shrouding the both of you in complete silence and darkness. You could see her slightly in the light of a distant street lamp, and then you reached over and gently kissed her on the lips.

Her hands were still gripping the steering wheel so you pressed a little harder with your lips, tasting the waxiness of her lipstick. And then she inhaled sharply, before forcing your mouth open with her tongue, letting it slide along yours. One hand reached up to grasp your jaw, and she breathed you in.

You gasped into her mouth, feeling her touch like fire on your skin. You pulled away only to scoot over and push your door open. Then you whipped your head back to look at Carol and said, barely a whisper,

“Come inside?”

Carol stepped out the car before you even managed to get off your seat. While you were out in the open, she was respectable, holding her head high and smiling like any middle-class wealthy house-wife would. And then when the door shut behind you, she was on you, clawing at your clothes.

Her mouth tasted like cherries and cigarette, and you never realized a taste like that could be so intoxicating. 

“Bed?” she asked, pulling at your shirt, and you led her to your bedroom, where she promptly pushed you down on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise.

You wormed you hands up underneath her shirt, making her shiver as you explored her smooth skin. Her skirt was too tight for her to straddle you properly and she cursed in a low voice before shimmying out of it. 

Once free, you salivated at the sight of her stockings and underwear, and as she pulled the blouse over her head your face was right there to kiss her chest, hold her by the waist, and pull her closer.

“Oh, sweet girl,” she breathed. Her voice always got lower and raspier after she had a cigarette, which she did after the sandwiches at the diner. You mewled into her skin, feeling goosebumps break out over your body at her words. 

She got you up on your knees to help you take off the rest of your own clothes, carefully peeling each piece off of you, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed. 

“Do we have to be quiet, baby?” she whispered, cradling your face to look up at her. You thought for a moment, and reluctantly nodded. You weren’t sure what the neighbours would think if they heard anything, and definitely didn’t want to cross that line now.

“Well alright then,” she purred, pushing you back on the bed. She straddled you, settling down on you comfortably. You felt the searing heat coming from between her legs, and you squirmed.

“No moving,” she said, because her eyes were fluttering shut at the friction from you moving underneath her. You stilled, choosing to run your hands over the smoothness of her stockings instead.

She leaned down and pinned your arms above your head, rotating her hips seductively, keeping her eyes on your face and a smile on her lips. Her lipstick was already smudged, you noticed.

“I realize I should have asked this first, but.. are you alright with this?” she asked, her thumbs rubbing over the pulse points on your wrists.

“Y-yes, yes, of course,” you replied, looking at the way her curls were loosening and falling into her face. 

“Good,” she grinned, and pressed a deep kiss to your mouth before moving down your neck, “because I have been thinking about this for a long time.”

She nipped at your collarbone and you squealed. One of her hands came down to press a finger to your lips.

“Shhhhh, baby. Quiet, remember?” she said. You gasped in response as her tongue ran down your breast, over your nipple, swirling around your belly button.

“F-fuck,” you hissed, grabbing at your pillows. Your body rose up again as she nuzzled you between your legs, right where you inner thigh met your pelvis. A tongue licked slowly up, collecting your wetness and sweat, and you shivered. 

“Carol,” you whimpered, reaching down to grab her hair. Immediately, she pulled your hand away and held it tightly over your thigh. The demand was clear, no touching. 

She lightly kissed your clit, and you bit your lower lip until you were sure it bled.

Then Carol pulled away and said,

“Best prepare yourself, baby girl. Don’t make a noise.”

Once she said that, you barely had a moment to register the words before her tongue and lips dove in, unforgiving and intense.

You gasped, almost crying out if you hadn’t caught yourself, the sound trapped in your throat. Your arms and legs shook as she held you down and attacked you.

It was deadly silent in your bedroom, the creaking of the bed and your heavy breaths the only audible sounds. You were whimpering, breathing in sharply through your nose to stop your voice from screaming at how she was working you up.

Then her hand let go of yours and a finger began rubbing around your opening, wetting the tip and pushing a finger in gently, but firmly.

“O-oh,” you sighed, which earned you a stilling of motion and a pointed look up through her lashes. You pressed your lips closed and willed yourself to stay quiet again. 

Her finger curled inside you and pressed against a swollen spot that had you seeing stars.

“Let it happen,” she whispered, pulling away for a short moment. Her lips suckled at your clit, and when a second finger pressed and curled inside you, the ceiling above you was replaced by swirling colours and a sense of complete euphoria. 

Your eyes were shut, trying to fill your lungs with air as you recovered from the intensity of your orgasm. Then Carol was there, kissing and licking along your neck. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and pulled her as close as possible, wanting to take her in, wanting to feel her as deeply as possible.

“Good girl,” she cooed, lips brushing over your ear. The rumble of her voice made you keen, and your body heated up again instantly.

Your exploratory fingers ran down her body and pushed inside her underwear. You heard her squeal softly and chuckle as you lightly rubbed her, and she pulled back.

“Just a moment, dear,” she said, grasping your hand, “here. Let me just...”

She removed her underwear, and laid back on the bed. You pressed up against her side, burying your head in the crook of her neck. 

“Wanna please you too,” you whimpered. Her hand ran soothingly over your back.

“Such a good girl,” she said, enjoying the way your body rolled against her again, “give me your hand, hm?”

She grabbed your hand, kissed your fingers, and then brought it down to her cunt. Her long legs spread a little more, and she guided your hand slowly.

“Press right here,” she breathed, holding your fingertips a little to the right of her clit, “and then rub a little- oh, yes.”

You followed her instructions as best you could, listening intently to the changes in her voice and breath. 

“A little harder, sweetie,” she continued, and you added a bit more vigour, working your whole arm. Her hips bucked up, and you smiled victoriously.

She leaned over and nuzzled your neck, nearly distracting you from your job at hand.

“Would you like to go inside?” she asked, a slightly desperate lilt to her voice.

You nodded weakly, watching your fingers rub over the most sensitive part of her, entranced by her convulsing abdomen muscles, her legs and her inner thighs becoming slick.

“Go on then,” she encouraged. You looked over at her beaming eyes, encouraging and needy at the same time. You reached further down and ran a finger along her opening like she did with you.

“I’m more than ready, darling,” she gasped, “two will be fine.”

You grinned, finding humour in her nonchalance as if she was ordering another sandwich at a diner. But then when you rotated your fingers and began pressing against her silky inner walls, she gasped and shook all over.

She bit down on the palm of her hand to stop from being too loud as you picked up the pace. Carol was trembling, pulling you down to kiss her continually, wet and sloppy. 

“That’s it,” she gasped, “God, I-I’m almost... shit.”

Her hand flew down as you fucked her with your fingers. She rubbed at her clit with expert precision, and that was the winning ticket. She whined into your mouth as she came, hips stilling and her body locking as she reached that peak.

You watched in awe as her eyes slowly opened at you, unfocused as she rode the last few pulses of pleasure, convulsing around your fingers.

The two of you laid there in content, sharing gentle kisses and breaths. She urged you to suck your fingers, grinning as you slurped her taste off your fingers before doing the same to her own.

“Sweeter than any milkshake,” she hummed, making you blush. She sat up a little, rearranging the pillows to relax a moment. You were going to pull away to give her some space, but her arm wrapped around you and held you close. 

She kissed you right by your hairline, whispering “beautiful” with soft endearment. You sighed and captured her lips again, addicted to every taste of her, every motion of her mouth and body.

Then she pulled away, but only to light a cigarette. The smoke swirled around her head again, and then she looked at you with those stunning grey eyes,

“Do you want to try?” she nodded towards the cigarette. 

“No,” you smiled, turning over on your side towards her, “I’d much rather watch you smoke.”

She laughed, and said, “alright,” before inhaling once more. 

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

deancas highschool au, 1.8k.

dean's pretty sure it all comes down to being sam's fault.

kid had walked into their last scooby doo marathon without warning at eleven friggin' pm, startling both cas and him (because they watch scooby doo like it's meant to be watched — with all their concentration, goddammit) and consequently causing dean to knock over the bowl of popcorn and get its contents all over (and some inside) the couch.

fast forward from there to the next time dean asked mary if cas could sleep over, and her immediate condition being that they conduct the grand bingewatch (a necessary element of the dean-cas sleepovers) in dean's room instead of the living room, as she could not possibly handle finding more popcorn under the cushions of the damn sofa than she'd already been fishing for, the last two weeks.

so there.

it is absolutely and indisputably sam's fault that dean is right now half-propped up in bed next to his best friend, with a laptop on his lap and fellowship of the ring playing on it, unable to think about anything except the way their arms press against each other, knees brush, and cas's head ends up looming too close to dean's shoulder to not be resting on it.

oh, and how good cas looks in the almost-dark, lit by whatever's happening — dean knows exactly what's happening — on the screen.

just because.

it's past two — which translates to way too late for a gay awakening o'clock — but dean's pretty sure if his heart keeps beating at this rate till morning, he's going to wake up in an ambulance.

this has never happened before. being this conscious of wherever they're touching, this excited about it, or this intent on stealing glances when he's sure he won't be caught. (okay, maybe that one's happened before but it's beside the point.) put together, it is alien and disconcerting.

and dean's not an idiot. he knows — he thinks he knows what's happening. and he knows it's not supposed to feel like a switch flipping because these things — and that's about all of the clarity he can afford — happen over time. and yet it's like he's walked headfirst into a wall on this weird, weird night.

the only thing he knows for sure is that he's never felt this way before. not towards cas, not towards anyone.

well, there's also never been an anyone (else).

but screw semantics — dean's terrified.

and it's entirely sam's fault, obviously, which is why the next time dean sees the little bastard, he's going to —

"dean."

it's cas, interrupting his very subtle, manageable breakdown in his endearingly familiar why-aren't-you-already-paying-attention-to-me voice.

dean hits pause, pressing the spacebar and turning to face his cas-shaped dilemma in the eye. "what, you sleepy already?"

"of course not." cas's tone is haughty, like one of somebody who hasn't been the first one asleep in a single sleepover in the past. dean takes the blow with grace, because he friggin' deserves that. he's been ashamed of himself every, single, morning-after. "i was just wondering if the movie," cas tilts his head towards the screen. "isn't disturbing your parents or your brother. i don't think we've ever watched anything past midnight in your room before."

trust me, dean's brain supplies, i know.

but cas does have a point. there's plenty of loud noises in lotr, and the walls aren't particularly thick. and the last thing he wants right now is for dad to come see why they're not asleep yet, and find them friggin' huddled together on a single.

not that dean minds it.

"well," dean frowns. "what do you suggest? it is sorta late to switch to sleepover games, by the way, if you were planning on saying 'never have i ever'."

"we could use your earphones." cas says, like it's the most obvious thing. "and neither of us ever win in 'never have i ever', dean. or lose, actually. we know each each other too well. why would i suggest that?"

but dean's already stuck on a previous part of cas's sentence. "m-my earphones?"

cas blinks at him. "yes?"

dean swallows.

"unless you want to play 'never have i ever'?"

dean swats at cas for that, which the latter tries to dodge by pushing dean with both hands, until dean's wriggling and swearing at him to stop trying to put him through the wall because either they really are cosied up in that little space, or being in the middle of a really important realization makes you go soft on your opponent.

when cas finally lets dean go with a self-satisfied grin, dean only falters for a moment before planting the laptop on cas indelicately and knee-waddling to the end of the bed to get to his desk.

he finds his extremely well-used black earphones soon enough and returns to his spot, where cas shifts hardly an inch to give him his due space, resulting in dean well and truly sandwiched between the wall and cas, because his best friend is a jackass like that. and of course, the only reasons dean leans further towards cas with practised annoyance etched on his face is because it's the kind of annoying he's supposed to be, and it's october and the wall is cold.

cas, on the other hand, is really not.

"what are you waiting for?" cas grumbles, eyes squinty at dean in the dark, and dean makes a face at him, plugging it in (without needing to look, not that he'd've been able to see a thing in the dark anyways), and offering cas the left earplug.

which cas promptly puts in his left ear — the one that's farther away — because he's cas, and things like which earplug is meant for which ear, matter to him.

dean friggin' loves him.

and it's some time after dean's put the right one in his left ear — because he's not cas is why, and their heads are close enough already — and they've hit play and settled into the comfortable silence of watching a movie they've both seen at least five times in the past and dean's actually begun to pay attention, that he absolutely freezes in his metaphorical tracks, the entire world stuttering to a halt as he tries to register that last thought.

he loves cas.

he said it to himself. he said he loved him.

and that's just goddamn it.

he loves cas.

dean's eyes flit to cas, who's watching the movie without having any life-altering revelations, stuffing his mouth full of popcorn every five minutes (a habit dean can proudly claim to have been responsible for fostering in the first place), not smiling but with a corner of his lip pulled up like he ends up unconsciously doing whenever he's really paying attention, his profile only half-lit with colors, and his closeness suddenly so incredibly flustering.

yeah, well. you've known it for a while, the voice in dean's head that's not exactly his, returns. haven't you?

and maybe he has.

or maybe he hasn't, and it really does feel like a switch flipping for some people. people like him who're zoning out watching lord of the rings one moment, and smitten with their best friends the second.

it doesn't really matter either way, does it?

it's 2:37 am when dean turns his head to the movie again.

inarguably far too late for anything to matter to dean other the fact that he knows. the fact that he knows that he's in love with cas. and the fact that he is.

(maybe he can think of ways to ask him out tomorrow.

or next week.

or maybe he'll chicken out a thousand times until he finally ends up stuttering his way through a severely practised-in-the-mirror confession eight months later, and cas will smile that smile he reserves for dean, and say he can't make it friday because of astronomy club, and dean'll blush even harder because he knew that, he knows that dammit, and then cas will suggest thursday instead, and thursday will be too soon and way too terrifying and just perfect. and then they'll live happily ever after.)

but dean's got all the time in the world to sort out — read: lose his shit over — the maybe's.

right now? being in love with cas is enough.

and being here, watching the last sixteen minutes of one of their mutually favorite movies in bed with his best friend and love of his life, is perfect.

*

dean does end up falling asleep first, yet again, cause turns out achieving self-awareness and spontaneous living-in-the-moment prowess don't do shit to help with being less of an embarrassment.

but this time, he gets to wake up with an arm slotted around his waist, and a warm castiel curled up close behind him, still fast asleep and breathing in light puffs down dean's tshirt, so maybe, just maybe, he doesn't have to chalk this one up as a loss after all.

doesn't mean cas still won't be a smugfaced little shit about it though.

but then, that's probably one of the things dean winchester loves about him anyway.

[detroitbecomeyandere]

Spirited Away

It was going to be "the road trip of the century", or at least that's how your friends put it when they were trying to convince you to do something for summer break other than working. 

"Come ooonnn y/n, all you do is work and study! You have to join us, you're gonna die of boredom at this rate!" Audrey whines and throws herself over your shoulders, almost making you drop your overpriced coffee. 

"Not everyone has a scholarship or parents to pay for their degree Audrey, some of us have to work to be here. I can't afford to take two weeks off if I want to pay for the semester." Taking a sip of your coffee a grimace crawls across your face as the sugar hits you full force, "Remind me never to take a coffee suggestion from Rosie again." 

"She's a sweet girl so it makes sense she'd drink liquid diabetes, but stop trying to change the subject you have to go with us this year!" The red head pulls the cup from your hand to take a swig then makes a face that matches your own before dumping the coffee into the nearest trash can. "Girl, you haven't gone on any trips the entire time you've been here. Live a little for once in your life, we are just driving up to Bentley's family cabin. What's the worst that could happen?" 

After some more relentless badgering from your three friends and a promise of paying for this semester for you all four of you set off, and as you sit and listen to Bentley and Audrey bicker about if Chris Hemsworth was hotter than Chris Pine you were glad you came. All the windows were rolled down so you guys could enjoy the fresh air, and to help you with your car sickness. Your head was almost out the window as you tried to push the nausea away, the trees rushed by making you feel more sick. You shut your eyes hoping it will help and doze off. 

By the time you wake up the sun is setting, the car is parked and your friends are outside, unbuckling you get out and join them. "Man Bentley, your parents really let their house go, look at all these trees." 

"Yeah I've been meaning to tell them trees are so last century. Rosie got us lost and I'm trying to figure out where we are." Bentley was hunched over the hood of his car staring at a paper map. The blonde huffs and crosses her arms, "It's not my fault the phone signal crapped out, you should have downloaded the map!" 

You check your phone and sure enough you were in a dead zone, slipping it back into your pockets. "Bentley, you come out here every year with your family, how could you get lost?"

"I don't drive when we do! Get off my back and give me a minute, okay." 

Rosie opens her mouth to tease him too but is interrupted by Audrey shouting for you three to come see what she found. With a huff Bentley folds the map as the three of you make your way to her. Audrey was standing in front of a large man-made tunnel hidden behind old oak trees. The stone pathway looked old with grass and wildflowers growing wildly between the cracks, in the entryway of the tunnel stood a small stone tower that seemed fragile enough to fall over in the wind. Parts of the tunnel wall crumbled under Rosie's hand as she ran it across the plaster. "This place has seen better days. Who do you suppose put it here?" 

Bentley scratched his chin, "If I remember correctly, some company was building a theme park out here, but the project was scrapped when they realized no one would drive this far out to see it. Guess they laid some of the foundation before then."

Just then a gust of wind blew behind you inching you all closer to the entrance, "It's like it's pulling us in. Let's go check it out!" Aubrey states as she starts walking through the tunnel Bentley and Rosie follow right behind her. 

"Guys let's just head back to the car, I'm exhausted and could really use a nap."

"Come on y/n, how often do you get the chance to sneak into an abandoned amusement park? Let's make some memories!" Aubrey yells back at you from halfway through the tunnel, with a huff of annoyance you stuff your hands into your shorts pockets and start down the pathway. The tunnel was longer than you thought and the further you went in the more run down it looked. Maybe it was the darkness or the fact you were walking through a structure that could collapse in on you at any second, but something about this place made your hair stand on edge. There was just something unsettling about it and you seemed to be the only one to notice, your three friends just chattered on without a care in the world and ignoring all the possible danger.

The four of you emerge into the blinding sunlight, standing on top of a hill your group gets a glimpse at the abandoned theme park in the distance just barely able to make out the roofs of the buildings. "Ah man, what kind of amusement park doesn't have rides?" Rosie whines in disappointment and crosses her arms while she pouts. 

"Maybe it's more of a reenactment place than a park?" Aubrey reasons, ever the leader she walks on towards the park and the rest of you follow. You walk through a long dried creek bed and into the village setting, now that you have a closer look the buildings seem to have been Japanese inspired. "Maybe this place never opened because of cultural appropriation." Bentley clicks his tongue in mock disappointment and a little chuckle at his joke. 

"Shut up Bentley." The three of you say in unison.

The four of you walked around for a while just taking in everything, the buildings while old looking seemed to be in pretty decent shape and some even had little fountains that still had running water on the side of them. In the distance the sun was starting to set and you suggested heading back to the car so you wouldn't get lost on the way back. "Hang on y/n, there is still more to see. Worst case, we crash here tonight." Rosie replied. 

"Yeah worst case we sleep in an abandoned park in the middle of the woods where no one else knows where we are. That's a wonderful idea." You grumble back to her. You all continue deeper into the town until you smell fresh food wafting through the air and in perfect unison your friend's stomachs growl.

"Maybe this place isn't so dead after all, come on, that food smells amazing!" The three of them take off in the direction the smell is coming from and soon find a restaurant-like building filled with fresh hot food. "Hello! Is anyone here?!" Rosie yells out but gets no answer in return, "Must have just stepped out for a second." She says with a shrug, three of them sit down and start to fill plates with some of everything in their reach. "Guys I think we should wait till they come back, you can't just take this food it might be for something." Aubrey waves you off and stuffs a dumpling into her mouth, "We can pay them later, I have cash and Bentley has his family's card. You have got to try this y/n, this is the best food I have ever had in my life!" 

"No thanks, I'm gonna see if I can find the owner before we get in trouble." Walking off you hear your friends rave about the food as they cram it into their faces. The sun is setting below the trees, normally you would find the dusty oranges and pinks to be comforting but in a ghost town it gives you the creeps. You stop halfway on a bridge and look off into the distance, in the dusk the town was certainly pretty and you kind of wished you could have seen this place open. Lost in your own thoughts you don't hear the footsteps approaching you. 

"What are you doing here?" The question jolts you out of your zoning out and you turn around to find a man staring intently at you. His brown eyes almost glowed in the dim light and his short brown hair seemed to be slightly out of place. "You need to get out of here, now!" "Look if this is about the food I'm sorry but you don't need to yell at me, we can pay for it." 

"No that's not the… they're lighting the lanterns already. You need to get your friends and get across the river before it's dark. Go, now!" The strange man lunges at you and you bolt back the way you came from, you turn to see if the stranger is following you only to run flat into someone. You look up to apologize only to see a huge shadow creature, your heart stops when it growls at you and before it can grab your arm you duck around it and run as fast as you can. All around you more shadow creatures start to appear out of thin air as the once dead village comes to life, the darker it gets the more solid the beings become. 

After a final turn you arrive back at the restaurant only to find three massive pigs in place of your friends and before you can even understand what's happening a large frog-like man appears behind the tables and starts to wipe the pigs at the table. Once again you take off, screaming your friend's names as desperation fills you. By the time you reach the creek bed the sun has completely set and the only light comes from the lanterns from behind you. The once dried river is now filled with a fast current and while you were a strong swimmer you knew you couldn't make it across. Your knees buckle and you crash to the ground skinning your knee in the process and the pain only cements the fact that all this is real. Your friends are missing and you are stuck in this place that shouldn't exist. As the adrenaline wears off, tears start to roll down your face as the panic sets in, you go to wipe your face only to find that your hand is see through now. A full blown panic attack ensues as you watch your body start to fade away, shutting your eyes and wrapping your arms around yourself one last time, all you can think about is how your family would never know what happened to you. 

"You didn't make it across, you were so close." Your eyes snap open to see the man from the bridge and you try to stand up only for your legs to be cemented to their place. You reach out for his pants only for them to phase through him, "What's happening to me!!" you scream at him. The brunette kneels before you and pulls a little red pill out of his pocket. "Open, you need to take this before you disappear completely." You keep your mouth firmly shut not trusting the man before you, with a sigh he slips the pill into his mouth before pushing his lips against your own. His tongue pushes past your lips and forces the pill into your mouth and down your throat, he lingers longer than he needs to, probably just making sure you actually swallow it. By the time he pulls away your arms are no longer see through and you can feel your legs again, taking your hands in his he carefully pulls you to your feet. You open your mouth to question him when he suddenly pushes you against the wall, your face starts to heat up as his body pushes against you. After the initial shock wears off your eyes travel from his chest to search his eyes for any ill intent only to see that he wasn't even looking at you, instead his eyes were cast over his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry for your friends and I'm sorry you're stuck here. But we don't have time for me to explain, he knows there's a human here and he's looking for you. Hold onto me, I'll keep you safe." numb from everything you just nod and slip your small hand into his. 

In a flash the two of you are flying through the now crowded streets dodging every strange creature with grace. You glance up at the man next to you, his brows set in determination and he focuses on the route. Without warning he stops and you slam face first into his back, the two of you are standing behind a couple of bushes next to a bridge where dozens of monsters are crossing. "You need to take a deep breath and hold it until we cross over, it's very important that you don't exhale while we are crossing." 

"But why?" 

"When a human holds their breath on a crossway in our world they are invisible, if they see you they'll eat you. We have to go now, hurry, take your breath and stay close to me."

You take a huge gulp of air and grab his large sleeve and huddle close to him. The two of you make your way across the bridge to the massive, brightly light building ahead of you. Monsters of all shapes and sizes were flooding into the building. You pass one monster whose body was still a shadow but you could see that he was one of the more humanoid ones. His blonde hair was the only defined feature of his as his face was covered by a white and purple mask. Despite you still holding your breath you felt like he could see you, making you grip on your dark haired savior tighter. 

Your lungs and throat start to burn and your eyes water but you were nearly there, peeking up you see that at the entrance stands dozens of women whose heads were at least three times the size of a normal head. Their waving stops as they spot the man you are with and run over to him, they reach out to grab at his arms but he takes a step back shielding you from their accidental touches. "Master, you're back! We are so pleased to have you home, come in, come in!" They continue to crowd around you two stopping your journey and even though you try you can't stop yourself from taking a breath. The moment you do the women start to shriek as you start to materialize in front of their eyes, your savior lifts his hand and casts a spell on the women freezing them in place before taking your hand in his again and quickly leads you away. 

This time the two of you stop in a secluded garden area where he allows you to catch your breath before saying anything. "Those damn women, always clawing at me. You'd think by now they'd learn I'm not interested." From the inside of the building you hear people run around and start calling for the man, he looks up at the door and gives a tired sigh. "They're looking for me now, I need to go or else they'll find you too." Having finally caught your breath you apologize to him, "I'm sorry for causing you trouble like this, I just couldn't hold it anymore."

Turning back to you he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear with a gentle smile on his face, "You did wonderful, I'm just sorry I couldn't have been more help. Now listen carefully, once things have calmed down go out that door and down the stairs to the boiler room. In there you'll find Hank the boiler man, you must get a job from him. He will try to send you away, trick you, but you can not leave until you get a job from him. That is the only way Elijah can't harm you." 

"Elijah? Who is he?" 

"He's the witch who runs the bathhouse, you'll meet him soon enough. I have to go now, be safe until we see each other again." Taking your hand in his for a final time he brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss, he turns to leave only for you to grip his sleeve again. "Wait, you never told me your name."

He smiles softly at you, "It's Connor."

[juniorgman187]

Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today 

Grant: don’t need to. 

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 

“Who keeps texting you?” 

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!” 

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 

“No one.” 

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 

“No, sir.” 

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 

“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 

This war was far from over. 

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied. 

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 

What you feel. 

I clung onto those words. 

What was I really feeling? 

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _ 

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

“A dating app, actually.” 

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.” 

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 

He felt sorry for me. 

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 

But I should’ve. 

_ _ _ 

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.” 

_  _ _ 

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 

You deserve more than that. Much more. 

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 

“I asked you first.” 

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 

“What? What is it?” I urged. 

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 

That never came. 

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 

“Always, trouble.” 

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 

_ _ _ 

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 

She was my priority. 

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 

She was so cold. 

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 

I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _ 

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?” 

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that. 

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

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[nalu4emily]

To Love and To Cherish

A short of how Natsu and Lucy welcome their first baby into the world.

"I-I can't... I can't do this!" She panted, her breaths short but heavy as yet another wave of pain tore through her middle.

A cry escaped her lips; the pressure too much to bare. Her mind no longer capable of rational thought as the contraction reached its peak, "I-it hurts..."

She whimpered as the intensity settled once again, her heart beating right out of her chest at the anticipation and dread of the next looming shock wave that was sure to send her over the edge. She couldn't take any more; she didn't want this any more. For the pain to stop was her only thought, the fear and panic cut deep within her chocolate irises.

He felt helpless, like a spare part that no longer had any use, just sat there watching his love and best friend go through a hell he would never be able to experience. It was gut wrenching, his heart ached for her, wishing that this part would be over already, to give her the rest she so desperately needed after hours and hours with little respite.

She gripped his hand, feeling another, stronger wave about to take hold and there was nothing she could do but ride it out. Gritting her teeth, she felt it come hard and fast, taking her breath away. Unable to hold back, a blood curdling scream shattered the room, the glass of the open windows threatening to break.

He held her, her grip so tight he was losing circulation but it didn't matter, he was her anchor, the one that'd been with her every step of the way and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to see this through. To give her the strength she needed to carry on was his only goal.

As she began to calm once more, she rolled to her side, her dripping wet face and rosy red cheeks came into full view. He swept her hair back away from her sticky skin and stroked down her clammy cheek, leaning forward to kiss her forehead and whisper his will of encouragement, the only thing he could offer right now.

"You can do this, Lucy. You're already doing it and look how far you've come." Feeling her grab a hold of his neck, she drew him in firmly, giving him the chance to embrace her too, his hands cradling her head and shoulders, "That's it, Luce. You've got this! You're doing amazingly, and soon we'll have our baby here."

Listening to the calming tone of his voice, she bore down, using the rest of her strength to push as hard as she could, even if it felt like her insides were on fire. With each pain staking minute, she fought with all she had, with one hard push after another—she’d finally exhausted herself.

"Baby's head is born. One more good push, Lucy, and you'll have your baby." Porlyusica said, feeling sympathy for the young girl who’d reached her limit many hours ago, but had no choice but to keep going—Such was the way of childbirth.

"You hear that, Lucy? I told ya; I knew you could do this!" He reiterated, trying to keep positive for Lucy’s sake. She looked completely wiped out and would need all the love and care he could give to her after this. “Just one more big push, Luce, and it’ll all be over.”

"Please, just get this baby out of me!" The celestial mage cried, another wave making her shiver and convulse, but she pushed through with all her might, "Natsu!" She screamed, almost pulling him into the bed with her.

With one last almighty push, he felt her body finally collapse under him and let go, panting heavily as the sudden feeling of pure relief entered her system. He barely had enough time to move, before a squirming, bloody baby was brought up and placed upon Lucy’s heaving chest. It’s lungs filling with air for the first time and letting out the sweetest little cry as it adjusted to its new world.

“You have a baby girl.” Both new parents heard in the distance, too enraptured by the little life that’d been given to them to truly acknowledge what’d been said. Porlyusica reached up to towel the baby down, and placed a blanket around her wriggling body, “You still have the placenta to birth and the umbilical cord needs to be cut, but as soon as that’s done, Wendy can get to work on healing you.”

The young mother had zoned out, to her the only people present at that moment was her and her baby. Her body ached and felt more sore than it ever had done, her eyes burned with exhaustion and the area between her legs felt unimaginably bruised and swollen. Yet, her mind focused solely on the infant that was snuggled up on her chest, looking just as beaten and swollen as she did.

Natsu watched from the side, giving him a front row seat to a mother meeting her baby for the first time and by god, did she look good like it. In fact, Lucy had never looked more stunning in his eyes, after everything she’d been through, the ability to now seem so calm as she stroked her new baby’s cheek was deserving of admiration in itself. She’d been so brave and so strong, having pushed through the excruciating pain that came with birthing a baby, along with the exhaustion that’d left her feeling weak and fragile.

He moved closer, coming to sit next to her and lean himself against her still sweaty forehead and smiled down at the little creation him and Lucy had created together. An overwhelming sense of pride and joy came over him and tears entered his eyes as he bent to place a kiss atop her head.

“Look what you’ve done, Lucy, you were incredible!” She heard him say, bringing her somewhat out of her trance and back into the room again. Tearing her gaze away from the little one enjoying the warmth of her skin and glanced up at the dragon slayer, smiling brightly at him.

“You mean what we did, Natsu. I couldn’t have got through that without you.” She admitted, her voice airy and teeming with sleep as she reached up to his cheek to caress it softly.

Entwining his fingers with hers, he leaned in to her palm, an enormous grin taking over his features, causing a few tears to spill over down his cheeks. He knew Lucy would be resilient, full of determination even when she felt like giving up and in the end, she’d brought their baby safely into the world, something he’d be forever grateful for.

“Do you want to hold her?” She asked him and he looked startled for a moment, but quickly overcome it and jumped at the chance to hold his baby daughter. Gently taking her from her mothers arms, he sat back in his seat next to the bed, holding the baby girl with his strong arms, totally mesmerised by how beautiful she was.

She had puffy cheeks and was still covered in strange fluids and blood, but that didn’t take away from the happiness he felt as he stared at the only other girl in his life that he could ever love as much as he loved Lucy. When she opened her eyes to take a look at her new surroundings, she stared deeply into her fathers enamoured features, seeming entranced by the man that could do nothing but smile down at her familiar tuft of pink hair and large, twinkling brown eyes, bringing her up to kiss her soft cheek.

“Thank you, Lucy.” He squeezed their still tangled fingers and looked up to her, noticing the glow of Wendy’s magic as she began to heal the weary celestial mage, making her more comfortable and ready for sleep. “I love you, so much.”

Managing a small smile back, the girl finally succumbed to the tiredness, “I love you too… Natsu.” She drifted off at the end, her body spent.

The last image to go through her mind was the sight of her beloved dragon slayer sat next to her, holding her hand whilst cradling their newborn in his arms, the look of pure elation as he became acquainted with the little girl.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :)