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aperrywilliams · 5 months

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Douchebag Falls Short in This Case (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Part 1: If Anything I Find it Educative

Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer and Reader can’t have their scheduled lunch, but they keep talking by phone and texts. After Spencer returns from a case, they can see each other again. If Spencer hadn’t been mesmerized with Reader, now he is, and maybe is more than that.

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Some strong words. Description of Road Rage Disorder. Talking about bad experiences at high school (nothing explicit). Emily is the best older sister to Spencer.

A/N: The prospect of them having a date was too tempting not to do it. This one is part 3 of “If Anything I Find It Educative” (Part 2 of “It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t”). Let me know your thoughts!!! I’m here to read you guys.

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Spencer's POV

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Me: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. S.R.

Heimlich Master: Yeah. Lunch sounds great. Let's talk about the details later. Good night :)

My face hurts from the big smile I sport right now. Smile that doesn't fade once I get to my apartment.

How did I manage to text her right away? I would never know, but I thank that moment of confidence.

Now I can't wait to see her again on Saturday.

---

I should have known making plans wouldn't work for me. It's Friday afternoon, and I'm on the jet about to take off for a case in Los Angeles.

There goes my lunch with (Y/N).

I grab my phone to type a text to let her know.

Between last night and today, we have been texting back and forth about what time on Saturday works for us and whether I had a place in mind. I did, but I told her it was a surprise.

Now I must cancel, and I can't stress enough my disappointment.

Me: Hey. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving for a case in L.A. Can we reschedule our lunch? Please don't hate me.

Heimlich Master: Oh, it's okay. Don't worry; of course, we can reschedule.

Heimlich Master: Let me know when you come back. And don't be silly; I don't hate you.

Heimlich Master: Can I ask you for something, though?

Me: Sure. Anything.

Heimlich Master: Can you prevent Morgan from kick-down doors this time? The bureau budget would appreciate it.

I can't contain the snort that leaves my lips, gaining Emily's attention. Bad luck of mine; she is in a seat just in front of me.

Me: I'll do my best. Promise.

Heimlich Master: Thank you. Have a safe flight :)

Me: Thanks :)

Look at me! Even using emojis.

Penelope would be proud of me.

I set my phone on the table to exchange it for the book I chose for this flight. Emily's voice stops me before I can do that.

"So, are you going to tell me why you are so smiling?"

And here we go.

"Me?" I lift my eyes to Emily, who has a smirk on her face. I hate that she already knows what's happening, not even knowing what's happening.

"Sure, genius. I don't see anyone else here so amused and focused on his texts. Not to mention the grin that could illuminate the whole D.C."

"No, I'm not!" I defend—a poor attempt to keep the transparency of my face at bay. Emily scoffs, and that's all it takes to know she doesn't believe me.

"I understand you don't like to talk about your personal life. I get it. And I won't bug you as Morgan would, yet knowing it is related to your love life. But don't try to fool me. It's insulting," she says, the last part faking hurt. That makes me chuckle.

"That being said, I just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk. It's not always good to keep things to yourself."

Not waiting for my response, she picks up the folder with the current case details to read.

I have known Emily for a few years now, and even if we didn't start on the right foot - entirely my fault - she's proven very supportive. Gosh, once she endured a whole beating from an unsub only to keep me safe.

Beyond that, she knows how to talk to me without treating me like a kid. Sometimes, I can't say the same about the rest. Of course, I don't blame them; they've always seen me as the team's baby, but I appreciate Emily doesn't.

"That's the thing. This," I point my gaze where my phone is. "I don't know what it is," I sigh. Emily's eyes are back to me. She sees how confused I am.

"What do you think it is then?"

I don't want to betray (Y/N) 's trust by spilling details about her life, so the specifics of our talks are out of the table.

"I can't deny there is a connection between us. We only met twice—both by chance. But they led us to talk for hours. And I ask myself, am I reading this wrong, and she only sees me like a, I don't know, potential friend?"

"Why would she? She told you she was only looking for a friend?" Emily asks, her hands resting lightly over the folder on her lap.

"No, she didn't. It's a deduction of mine, though. I mean, she recently ended a relationship —a very serious one."

Just remembering the reason that led to that breakup makes me sick.

"Okay. That could be a thing, but not necessarily. Maybe things ended precisely because she wanted something different. That's not bad," Emily hypothesizes. I shake my head.

"I'm not so sure. Let's say she wouldn't have ended the relationship until something big happened. Big enough for her to realize the guy was a total -"I trail off. What would be the right word?

"A douchebag?" Emily offers.

"I think douchebag falls short in this case," I point out. Emily's eyes widen.

"That bad, uh?" I nod.

"She is vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. But at the same time, I want a chance with her. Am I a bad person?"

"What? No! Spencer, don't say that," Emily rushes to stop my spiral. "Far from that. You are considerate enough to see she's in a complicated situation. Most of the men don't even care about that. Cut her some slack, though. She is a grown-up woman, and if she wants to get to know you, why not let her? If she hasn't already, I bet she will see the great man you are. And not only as a friend."

My eyebrows furrow.

"Do you think so?"

"Sure. And for how you describe her, I don't think she is the type to play with people's feelings. Although, I strongly recommend being honest with her. That will prevent false expectations."

I take in Emily's words, and they make perfect sense.

"Thank you, Emily. I didn't think about it like that," I

muse. "Can you do me a favor, though?"

She nods, anticipating what I'm going to say.

"I know. Not a word to anyone. Got it," Emily confirms with a reassuring smile.

---

The heat in Los Angeles for the last three days has been overpowering. Just as catching this unsub has become extremely frustrating.

I'm in the meeting room they lent us to work in, reviewing the details of the case over and over again. The rest of the team is outside the precinct following our latest leads.

My head started to hurt, and I had to close my eyes for a moment.

As I focus on breathing, my phone pings. I open my eyes and see a text from (Y/N).

Heimlich Master: How are you? I read that L.A. has a heat wave; I hope it's not hitting you too hard.

I can't help the smile that pushes the corners of my lips upward.

Me: I'd like to say it's not affecting me, but I don't want to lie. I will survive, though. Please tell me how nice the weather is in D.C., and I'll aim to finish this case as soon as possible.

Heimlich Master: I thought our lunch was enough incentive for you to do that. Now I feel bad.

Oh, fuck. What did I do? Of course, it's an incentive for me. It is THE incentive, actually. I have been thinking about that since Friday when I came here. Now she's assuming I don't care.

How can you be such an idiot, Spencer?

I must fix this immediately, so I hit the call button—a confused (Y/N) answers on the other end.

"Spencer?"

"Hey. I - uh. I decided to call because I needed to explain myself. Please, don't feel bad. Of course, I want our lunch to happen. I wasn't saying it like if I don't. I mean, the heat is fucking insane here, but it's not-"

"Spencer, hey, don't-" she tries to make me stop. Still, I am so determined to say everything necessary to explain myself that I continue my rant.

"What I'm trying to say is-"

"Spencer, wait!" (Y/N)’s firmer voice halts me in my failed attempt at an apology. It's sufficient enough for me to shut up.

"Sorry. What were you about to say?"

"I'm sorry for stopping you, but it sounded like you would run out of air and pass out. Now I feel awful because the last thing I wrote was only to mess with you. I didn't want you to feel like I was accusing you of something, much less that you owed me an apology."

"Oh," I mumble, now making sense of the whole exchange. My cheeks heat up realizing I went from 0 to 100 in seconds. (Y/N)'s voice sounds anxious now.

"Please, forgive me if I worried you that way. That's why I hate texts; I can't control my teasing tone as I do when I talk to someone."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't want (Y/N) to think she did anything wrong, though.

"No, don't say that. I'm not good at - literally - reading social cues. I should have noticed. I just need some practice," I chuckle. I can hear a chuckle on the other end, too.

"Well, since we already cleared up our first miscommunication problem. How are you?"

That sentence shouldn't make my heart skip a beat, but it does.

Get your shit together, Spencer.

"With the heat and the lack of progress in the case, it is a bit frustrating. But we'll make it. How about you?"

"Good, actually. Not the load of paperwork I had last week, and my boss just asked me to prepare a lecture for the trainees in forensic accounting."

"Wow, that's amazing!" I chirp, excited.

"I'm a bit nervous, though. But I'll live," (Y/N) sighs.

"You'll do it great. I didn't know you were into teaching," I muse, remembering our prior conversations.

"I didn't, either. But I've had some previous experiences, and they have been okay. So, the case? That bad, uh?"

That brings me back to L.A. and the case. I was very comfy with my mind in (Y/N).

"He's taunting us. I mean, the police force. But we have a strong profile. One more piece, and we have him," I assure, trying to be convincing enough.

"You guys know what you're doing. You'll catch him, Spencer." (Y/N) sounds like she has no doubt. It fills my heart with warmth because although she doesn't have to put that amount of trust in me, she does it anyway.

"Reid?" I turn to see Morgan and J.J. walking into the room. She hears it, too.

"They need you. You have to return to work," (Y/N) concludes. I let out a sigh.

"Yeah. I have to go," I mumble apologeticly.

"Of course, you're working. It’s okay," she affirms with understanding.

"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Take care, okay?" I whisper into the receiver.

"I will. You too, be safe. Bye."

I can see Morgan's smirk and JJ’s curious look when I hang up.

I know they're dying to ask me questions, but now is not the time, and I don't want to either. So before any words come from their mouths, I hasten to speak.

"Did you find anything? I was examining what we have so far, and I think we are missing something. Look at this," I tell them, pointing to the scattered photos on the table. They look at each other and hesitate to interrupt me or play along. Thank goodness they opt for the latter.

---

Me: Did you know L.A. has an abandoned underground tunnel network? If they are put together, it will stretch out 17 kilometers. They exist due to the Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in L.A. in early 1920, 35,000 gallons of wine were poured into its sewers. But, far from eradicating booze, prohibition pushed its use underground, literally.

Heimlich Master: Wow. I didn't know that. But I'm afraid to ask why are you telling me this. Are you trapped in one of those tunnels, and this is a call for help? [see attached photo]

Me: Ha Ha Ha. Let's say I've been studying those tunnels all day. Good thing we have Morgan and Prentiss to do the dirty job, though.

It's my fifth night in Los Angeles, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The only things that have kept me at least in a decent mood are the texts and short calls I have shared with (Y/N). I've never been very fond of using technology, including my cell phone, but thanks to (Y/N), I haven't even questioned it.

We've been sharing fun facts and memes. If you had asked me a week ago what a meme was, I wouldn't have known what to answer. The word was familiar to me thanks to Garcia, who often mentions them, but now I can say that I know more about them than I would have expected to. (Y/N) is a regular, and I can understand more of her sense of humor because of that. She especially loves the ones with a philosopher dinosaur and those where a woman yells at a cat.

Heimlich Master: How is the case going?

I'm about to reply when hard knocks shake my hotel room door. I hear Morgan's voice on the other side. "Reid! There is a break in the case! Move your ass right now!" Before leaving the room, I texted (Y/N).

Me: Hoping to wrap it up tonight.

Two hours later, we have the unsub in custody, not before running into a frantic chase for L.A. streets. Now, completely wasted, we are packing our things to return home. Usually, when we wrap cases at this hour, we stay until the next morning and then take off. But everyone is so drained that Hotch called to the tarmac saying we’re flying back tonight.

Being already on the jet, I feel like writing to (Y/N), but it doesn't seem appropriate, considering it's 2 in the morning. I refrain and try to catch some sleep, knowing exactly what I want to do first when we touch down in Virginia.

---

It’s the first time I've put foot on the third floor of the Quantico Headquarters. It doesn’t look too different from the others I do know. A bunch of people walking in and out, agents perched at their desks, deep in folders or computers. Phones are ringing, and the sound of copy machines is unmistakable.

But none of that matters right now. I have a mission to accomplish.

After navigating between several desks, I find the one I’m looking for.

“Good morning, agent (Y/L/N).”

At the sound of my voice, (Y/N)’s head whips up.

“Hey! When did you come back?” she asks, seeming confused. The last time we spoke was last night before the unsub takedown, so for her, I still could be in LA.

I check my watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes ago.”

“I hope you slept on the jet.”

“I did. A bit.”

I won’t tell her how I barely closed my eyes, excited about returning to Virginia.

“So, to what do I owe the honor of having you here, Dr. Reid?”

“A crucial matter that can’t wait.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-hu. I have an announcement and a question for you.”

“Oh yeah? Okay, shoot.”

“Morgan didn't kick down any doors during this case.”

(Y/N) snort a laugh. What a beautiful view it is to see her laugh.

“It's what I needed to start my day with the right foot.”

“You're welcome.”

“Okay, that was the announcement. And the question?”

“Yeah, about that. What do you say if we switch our failed lunch last Saturday for having dinner tonight?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Tonight? Are you sure? You just came back.”

She’s inspecting my face, looking for certainty. I nod solemnly.

“Yeah, tonight. Unless you already have plans. If that’s the case, it’s okay. We can do something another day.”

After pondering my offer for a second, a smile creeps in (Y/N)’s face.

“You’re a lucky guy. Did you know that?”

Is it too much to say I’m feeling a lucky guy since I met her?

“I’m realizing now. Pick you up at seven, then. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you my full address.”

After saying our goodbyes, I take the elevator back to BAU. As the doors open at the sixth, I go face-to-face with Garcia.

“Oh, there you are! Everyone was looking for you to start the debriefing. Where were you anyways?” Penelope says, worried about my whereabouts.

Shit. I forgot Hotch wanted to do that quickly so we could finally get over this case.

“Uh. I had to use the bathroom.” I try to sound normal to avoid making a big deal.

“On another floor?” She asks, visibly confused.

Sometimes, my IQ gets lost in my odd way of doing synapses.

What the fuck I was thinking when I said that?

“Did you know the men’s bathroom paper toilet in the seventh is better quality than here?”

Oh, Spencer Reid, please stop.

“Really? I always knew they had more privileges than us. But the paper toilet? It’s infuriating,” Garcia huffs. And I know doing this is not very kind of me, but I promise to explain to her. Not now, though.

“Uh. I’m going to the conference room now. The others are waiting,” I announce, and Garcia nods, ushering me there.

“Yes. Go, go!”

Aside from the looks of 'Where the hell were you?' no one commented on me being late. Once we debrief, Hotch officially closes the case, instructing us to finish the paperwork and head home at lunchtime, which is perfect for my plans. It gives me enough time to prepare for dinner with (Y/N).

I know I look like a teenager, but I don't care.

Around three in the afternoon, I am already in my apartment and have made a restaurant reservation.

I decided to take a quick nap, although I didn't know how much sleep I would get given my nerves. It's not that being with (Y/N) makes me anxious per se; It's the anticipation of being with her.

Maybe I'm expecting too much from this date.

Shit. 'This date' Is this actually a date?

I feel like it is, but for (Y/N), will it be the same?

I invited her to dinner but never told her it was a date. Derek would tell me it is, but I don't want to assume.

Now is when Emily's words ring in my ears: 'Be honest with her to avoid false expectations.'

With her words in mind and the tiredness from the last days catching up with me, slumber finds me after a while.

---

It’s seven pm sharp, and I’m knocking on (Y/N)’s door. I can hear some rustling from inside before the doors open, revealing her frame greeting me with a smile.

“Hey! Just in time!”

“H- hi,” I say, almost breathless after taking in her appearance.

It's true that the first time I saw (Y/N), she was dressed to the nines. It's also true that when I saw her on the terrace that night, I couldn't help but think how beautiful and captivating she was.

The next time was at Quantico. She wore a classic and elegant office outfit, with black formal trousers, a white silk blouse, and a fitted maroon jacket. The image of all the confidence and resolve I bet she has at the job.

But now? My jaw shamelessly drops.

She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves and black heels that elongate her legs. A beautiful cardigan wraps elegantly in her upper half. Her hair is styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and she's accessorized with long silver earrings and the same necklace with the compass I saw on her the first time. She looks sophisticated, alluring, and just perfect.

“Let me get my purse, and we can go, okay?” (Y/N) says, jutting her thumb to the inside.

“Su- yeah, sure.”

Great. I’m a stuttering mess.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I talked about the last heatwave in Los Angeles, and she annoyed me by telling me about the rain in Virginia last week.

Now I ask (Y/N) if she has a car. It happens that she owns a car but doesn't like to drive.

“I just discovered years ago I don't like it. But I kept the car only for emergencies, which is stupid if I think of it,” she prefaces.

“Why?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.

“Because now all emergencies I can think of entail myself incapable of driving.”

Her laugh fills the car now, and I can’t help but join her.

“Okay, okay. But really, why you don’t like it?” I ask when our laughing fades. (Y/N) clears her throat.

“Uh - are you familiar with the term road rage?”

I nod, not peeling my gaze from the streets ahead.

“Yes, I do. Colloquially known as ‘angry driver disorder,’ it is aggressive or angry behavior exhibited by motorists. These behaviors include rude and verbal insults, yelling, physical threats, or dangerous driving methods targeted at other drivers, pedestrians, or cyclists to intimidate or release frustration.”

A sigh escapes (Y/N)’s lips. “Yeah. That.”

Using the chance a red light gives me, I look at her with an eyebrow furrowed.

“So, do you have RRD?”

She averts my gaze, focusing on the windshield instead.

“I thought I had it. At first, I didn’t give it any importance. I said it was just me trying to adjust to the jungle. Who hasn’t yelled as driving? But there were times when I freaked out of myself and feared doing something more than screeching or honking like crazy. So, I stopped driving for a while. I did my research and learned techniques to get it under control. But since then, I never enjoyed it again.”

A nervous giggle escapes from (Y/N)’s lips.

“Jesus, you are going to think I’m a society threat.”

I shake my head without a second thought.

“Of course, you are not. Furthermore, I find it admirable that you realized it was unhealthy and took action before living a worse experience.”

I see a blush creeping (Y/N)’s cheeks from the corner of my eye.

Not five minutes later, we are at the restaurant parking lot.

Descending from the vehicle, I hurry to (Y/N)’s door and open it for her. Once she is out of the car, I offer my arm so she can lace hers with it.

The hostess greets us at the entrance, and once he checks our reservation, he leads us to our table.

It's the first time I’m here. I chose it because Rossi once said it was perfect for a date.

Again. A date. Something I still don't know if apply here.

A waitress approaches us as soon as we sit, handing us two menus.

“Miss, sir. I’m Emma, and I’ll be at your service this evening. Can I offer something to drink?”

After Emma leaves us with our orders, (Y/N) turns to me.

“Spencer, this place is amazing.”

And she is right. The soft lighting from the small lamps creates a warm atmosphere. The decor includes cozy tables spaced apart for privacy, with comfortable seating and plush cushions. Soft and muted deep reds and browns fill the interior, with classy artwork on the walls. It's really nice.

But above all, the company makes it even better.

Our conversation flows as easily as in the car. It's so comfortable as we have known each other for a long time. And we just met less than two weeks ago.

“Okay, let me get this straight. So you are from Vegas and couldn't bear the L.A. heatwave?”

“I have lived in DC for almost eight years, so I adapted better to this climate.” I shrug and (Y/N) hums.

“You don't get to go there that much? I mean, do you have family there?”

“Just my mom. And no, I don’t see her very often,” I confess—a tint of guilt in my voice.

I see (Y/N)’s face, and I know she wants to ask, but she is respectful enough not to. Not everyone is.

“I’m an only child. And my dad left us when after my tenth birthday. With no siblings, it is only my mom and me. But even if I don't see her often, I write her letter daily.”

I look at her again, expecting the same face everyone gives me when I talk about my family, the one that screams pity. But no, if (Y/N)’s face screams anything, it’s understanding.

“Old school, uh? I’m sure your mom loves your letters,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I nod,

telling (Y/N) more about my letters to my mom and how detailed she likes me to write them.

“And I think it helped us not to break the bond.” I shrug, taking a bit from the fork. “What about you? Did you say you are not from DC?”

“No. I’m not. I’m from Minneapolis. My parents settled there at a very young age. They were born in the South. I have two siblings: an older sister and a younger brother. My parents are still in Minneapolis, and my brother is, but he lives with his boyfriend now. My sister left for Chicago when she married her fiancee years ago.”

“Do you see them often?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Not quite. Just in holidays or major events. But we call each other often. I always know what happens there, and they know what happens to me here.”

(Y/N) tells me she is not that close with her sister, though. Since she started dating his current husband, they distanced. And that only worsened when (Y/N) moved to DC.

“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.” I don’t know what having a sibling is, but I see in her eyes that she is not okay with how things turned between them.

“Yeah. But neither of us has done something about it. And here is where I need to clarify that stubbornness runs in my family,” she chuckles.

I pull a face, faking surprise. “Yeah, that’s so you can realize who you're dealing with,” she says, pointing her fork at me.

Our conversation bounces from topic to topic until we land on the school phase.

I tell her about what it's like to be a child prodigy in a public school in Las Vegas. The bad things and the not-so-bad ones, because believe it or not, I can see something positive from that time at this point in my life.

“Clearly, I didn't have it as difficult as you, but I am sure we all felt out of place at some point during that time,” she muses, cutting a piece of her dessert with the spoon.

“Did you?”

She lets out a chuckle. “Let's say I haven't been very ‘typical’ in my life, especially in high school. I mean, if following a stereotype was required, mine was quite different from the other girls my age.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “How is so?”

“Well, while my friends dreamed about having a Mr. Darcy-Elizabeth kind of love, I found Heathcliff and Kathy's relationship more appealing,” she stops from her explanation with a snort escaping her lips. “Ha! I should have known it would be a problem later.”

Why do I think other people would know what she is talking about while I don't?

Of course, she sees the confusion written all over my face.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” I pull a face, shaking my head.

“At risk of being disrespectful, uh, no. I don't.”

“Don’t worry. You don't have to, I guess. But if you read Wuthering Heights someday, you will know.”

I will—first thing in the morning.

“But the main idea is that I never expected life would be something close to a fairy tale, you know? I just didn't believe it, and my friends hated that of me.”

Jerks.

It's fair to say that we are so caught up in chatting that we don’t realize we are the only ones left in the restaurant. We do when Emma approaches to ask if we need anything.

After paying the check, we left the restaurant and headed to my car. The ride is mainly silent this time. I don’t want this night to end, and I think (Y/N) doesn't either because of how she bites her lower lip with her eyes trained on the road ahead.

We begin a light conversation for a few minutes after arriving at her building. With the car in parking, I reach her side of the vehicle to open the door for her. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, giving me a warm smile.

“I'll walk you to the door.” She nods softly, “Okay.”

The three floors to her apartment are pure agony in my head. I want to be honest with her, but I also don't want to scare her into thinking I'm a creep or whatever. If she notices my internal dilemma, she doesn't mention it. We reach her door, and (Y/N) takes her keys from her purse. I don't trust my hands and keep them in my pockets as she opens the door. She turns to face me now.

“Thank you, Spencer. I had a great time tonight.”

I see it in her eyes. She is genuine. And my heart skips a bit.

“Me too. Thanks for accepting my invitation.”

My hands feel clammy, so I take them out of my pocket and dry them discreetly on my clothes.

“Of course.”

We remain silent without taking our eyes off each other. Emily's words reverberate, and I know what I must do.

Okay. Here we go.

“Can I - can I ask you something?”

I wish I could speak without stumbling over my words.

“Sure.”

“Would you say that tonight, that is, our dinner - would you say it was a date? I mean, would you classify this as a date?”

(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on me as if trying to follow my train of thought.

“A date? Why wouldn’t I?”

She is still careful but curious about where I’m going with all of this.

“It's just that I never said it was a date when I talked about dinner.”

“So, you didn’t want it as a date?” (Y/N) asks for clarification, and I feel like the stupidest human being on earth.

“No! I did. I do. It's just - I thought you maybe thought of it like something different?”

She narrows her eyes at me. This is not working. I take a deep breath before starting over.

“The thing is, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. From the times we have seen each other and what we have talked about in these two weeks, I feel that there is something that feels so good between us, and I wonder if maybe you don't feel it or if you see it as something similar to a friendship. I know things in that part of your life have been messy lately, and I would understand if you wouldn't want anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking-“

My rant is halted when I notice (Y/N)’s palm caressing my cheek. There is a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stop.

“Spencer. You are not reading this wrong. I feel the same way you described it as ‘right,’ even if I’m unsure what it is exactly.”

I let out a dramatic sigh I didn't know I was holding. That makes (Y/N) giggle. I join her with a chuckle myself.

As the giggle subsides, I hold her hand and place it over my chest near my heart. My other hand softly tilts her chin so I can look into her eyes.

“You are amazing; did you know that?” I whisper, and her breath hitched. I flick my gaze between her eyes and her lips. She does the same. And that's what I needed to get the courage and lean in. Slowly, the distance between us gets short, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I can feel her breath fanning my face as her eyes flutter close.

And then, our lips met for the first time.

It's slow, and I can taste the sweetness of her lips.

I've never felt something like this kissing someone before, but now that I know what it's like, I never want to stop feeling it.

Her hands go up my shoulders, seeking a grip on the hair at the back of my neck. My hands fly to her hips to pull her closer to me as our kiss deepens. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, and she parts them to grant me access. One of my hands leaves her hip to cup her face to get a better angle for continuing our kiss. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.

I don’t want it to end, but the need for air is too much. After breaking the kiss, we are both panting with our faces flushed and lips swollen.

“Wow.”

“Jesus.”

We breathe out at the same time, followed by a fit of giggles.

Her laugh is definitely my new favorite sound on Earth.

I cup her cheeks and lean again to steal a quick kiss from her lips, and when I’m about to part again, she tightens her grip on my suit jacket lapels and brings me to her lips again.

After two or three more kisses, we lose the hold of our hands off each other, with a wide grin spread on our faces.

“I think we already give my neighbors enough of a show for tonight,” (Y/N) points out, biting her lower lip and peeking at both sides of the hall behind me.

“Yeah,” I mumble as I stroke her cheek, gaze focused on her eyes. “I should get going.” (Y/N) nods. “Text me when you are home?”

“I will.”

After another quick kiss, I muster the will to say goodbye. Wishing me goodnight, (Y/N) enters the apartment and closes the door. I linger there for a few seconds, excited like a child after the best day of his life.

I feel like it is.

Right now? I'm beyond grateful to Hotch for making me attend that stupid gala.

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams #doctor spencer reid

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alphajocklover · 10 days

Text

InstaJock: Double Friend Request

(Based on the ask I accidentally deleted.)

So, your japanese friend sent you a request for InstaJock, but when you accepted it your phone froze, and now all it shows is you is a picture of a Japanese bodybuilder who seems to be growing. I can see you’re disoriented right now, so I’m going to start by clarifying a couple things.

The Japanese bodybuilder you’re looking at? He isn’t growing. He’s flexing! It makes sense you made that mistake though, sense with muscles that big flexing can make it look like that's happening.

You’re not looking at a picture. You’re looking at yourself. Your phone is in selfie mode.

Yeah. The Japanese stud currently flexing at you from your phone is you. As I’ve mentioned before, InstaJock allows someone to change what type of jock they turn into through the settings and details page when they set up their account. It’s incredibly hard to navigate though, so most people don’t bother. But if the user can figure it out before they give into the urge to join the app, they can become whatever kind of jock they want. The thing is, they aren’t the only people that can change what kind of jock the user becomes. The person who sends you the friend request can also affect what type of jock the next user becomes. It’s part of the friend request feature. If a jock is still smart enough to figure out how to use the app's settings, they can ‘suggest’ a type of jock to become. You don’t have to accept the suggestion, but it seems like you did, at least by accident. So now, just like your friend, you’re a buff, cocky, japanese jock.

But I don’t think that's the only thing that has changed about you. See, if this was a normal case of InstaJock, you’d have changed mentally just as quickly as you changed physically. It’s possible your friend pressed the ‘multiple personality’ option. It’s pretty much what it sounds like, though I should say for clarity's sake that it's nothing like the actual mental disorder that used to be called multiple personality disorder. It’s more like the cliche version you see on tv shows. Your personality wasn’t overwritten with a jocks personality like most people who use InstaJock, in fact you were able to keep your original personality… it’s just that now you also have a jock personality in your head too. He seems to be in control of your body at the moment too, from all the flexing and the way you keep saying ‘bro.’ I wouldn’t worry though, from what I’ve seen situations like this you and him will be swapping control pretty often. You’ll usually be you… unless something draws him out. Like a hot girl, or a hot guy, or the sight of a gym, or the sounds of a football game, or just seeing your own beefy muscles… Yeah, you might actually be spending a lot of time as your other self. My only advice is to make your peace with him. You guys are going to have to get used to each other.

At least you got a great body out of the deal, even if you have to share it.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf

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amirasainz · 5 months

Note

okay okay i love the jealous alexandra!! but what about a continuation where it’s bff kika and amira vs alexandra and miss kika throws some hands!! maybe they were out on a girls day like they have kika and amira days and alexandra was there with her bff an iv and they got to shit talking and kika threw some punches, and amira was yelling in spanish like two very jumpy bffs, and pierre and charles are very much like it’d be painful if we hurt them, cause they may just kill us!! love the better girlfriend fic! this series is so so fun ❤️❤️ ( oml and kelly being very proud of her 2 younger wags when she find out )

I'm so sorry but at the end I had to laugh so bad. Please be aware that this is just a fic and not hate towards any persons mentioned.

I hope you enjoy reading and send me some requests.

-XoXo

The better girlfriend (Part 2)

Amira and Kika, inseparable as ever, embarked on another girls’ day in Monaco. Their bond was more than friendship—it was sisterhood. Kika played the role of confidante, makeup lender, and partner-in-crime during hungover mornings. Sweet “girl-dates” were their specialty, and Kika’s shoulder was always there for Amira to lean on.

But Kika wasn’t just a soft touch. Like any true best friend, she’d throw a punch or two if needed to defend Amira. Loyalty ran deep between them.

On this particular day, they indulged in a four-hour shopping spree, treating themselves to manicures and a relaxing spa session. To cap it off, they settled into a cozy restaurant for lunch, sipping delicious mimosas.

Seated at the back, they paid little attention to the other patrons—until a familiar voice reached their ears. It was one of those moments when fate intervened, weaving their lives together with unexpected threads.

"I honestly don't know what he sees in her." the annoying voice of Alex reached their ears. Amira and Kika shared a look, both of their faces looking unimpressed. "Yeah" was the weak reply from Alexandras best friend, Sarah. To be honest, Sarah wasn't Alex biggest fan at the moment. The whole stunt she did with kissing a man that was not her boyfriend wasn't ok. But going to said ex-boyfriends job and offend his new girlfriend publicly was just borderline crazy. In her opinion Amira is a sweet girl and a good girlfriend to Charles. No wonder that they are Sarah's favourite celebrity couple, but don't tell Alex.

"You should have seen her, she stood there like an idiot. She dresses like a whore. Hell, I bet she even behaves like one" Alexandra continued. "And of course little perfect Amira Sainz had to play the angel again and tell the media that she didn't take my words to heart. Does this bitch even know who I am? My word is law." For gods sake why couldn't she stop talking, thought Sarah.

Meanwhile, Kika and Amira listend to the one-sided conversation. Both girls started getting angrier the more they heard. While Amiras rage was the "I can destroy your life with one sentence" rage, Kika's blood was boiling. "Who does this stupid bitch think she is" muttered Kika.

But when Alexandra confessed she started the internet rumor of Amira having an eating disorder, all rational thoughts left her head. During those horrible rumours, Amira started really struggling. Anti-Ferrari fans and Anti-Charles fans took the presented possibility to write her online hate. Besides, starting rumours about serious topics like that is never alright, no matter who it is about. It was a very dark time for Amira.

Before Amira could even comprehend what was happening, Kika stood up and went to the neighbour table. "Hey, girlie" she said to Alex sweetly, before taking her hair and dragging her out of the chair. Alex screeched like an wounded animal, which gained the attention of the other guest and staff. One young waitress recognised the girls and started filming.

Kika pushed her to the floor and started ripping of her fake nails. "Who the fuck do you think you are talking about my best friend like that?" Alex and Kika started ringing on the floor. Obviously Kika had the upper hand. Amira, who was still angry, decided to encourage her besties behaviour. "Vamos, Kika. Acaba con esta estúpida zorra." she yelled. Kika shot her a little smile while Alex looked at her in horror. "Eso es, zorra. Toma tu puta opinión y a ver a quién le importa. " Amira said straight to her face, raising an eyebrow.

Kika slapped her one last time across the face, stood up and said loudly: "Can we get our sandwiches to-go, please?" Amira and Kika turned to the filming waitress who answered excitedly: "Girls, it's on the house for you." After paying their mimosas and taking their food, the two left.

Inside the car, Amira hugged Kika tight. "Thank you" she whispered tearfully. Kika didn't say anything back, just hugged her tighter. What the two girl's weren't aware of, was, that at this exact moment, their little video fight went viral. And boy, did the fans stand on Kikas and Amiras side.

Bonus (+):

Max and Kelly stood in front of the girls, the video on in the background. They knew Charles and Pierre wouldn't say anything against their behaviour, so they took it upon themselves to be that bad cops.

"I am very disappointed in you two. Instead of talking it out like an adult, you hit her, Kika. And you shouldn't have encouraged her, Amira. As a punishment you both are not allowed to have any girl-days for two weeks." explained Max tiredly. Instead of arguing, both girls silently nodded their heads.

After a moment of silence Max spoke again: "Kelly, don't you want to say anything as well?" "….Bad girls." was her only reply. While Max held his head in his hands, Kelly shot the two of them a secret wink.

#formula 1 #baby!sainz!sister #charles leclerc x reader #pierre gasly x kika gomez x reader #kika gomez x reader #no hate #max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader

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innuendostudios · 10 months

Text

youtube

New Alt-Right Playbook, regarding the minimization of power imbalances with "enh, it's not SO bad."

If you like this and my other work, do please back me on Patreon and/or watch me on Nebula.

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you and some other folks have gotten embroiled in a debate about the use of content warnings. One side has put forth the usual case: some people have trauma or anxiety disorders, and giving them a heads up about common triggers lets them make informed decisions about how to engage with a piece of media. They aren’t always looking to walk out, even, just to avoid a panic attack by having a few moments to prepare themselves. And this is often better for everyone as more people can appreciate the work itself and the discourse doesn’t derail into another discussion about whether it should’ve had a content warning.

And then someone from the other side of the debate says, in all seriousness (and I remind you this is about whether or not people should put a single sentence at the beginning of a video, the start of a game, outside the door of a theatre), “Can’t you just, like, have your panic attack? I mean, this isn’t life and death.”

The discussion quickly and predictably devolves from there into people who have panic attacks trying to explain how miserable they are, and how comparatively simple putting up a content warning is, and you realize far too late that this whole conversation is missing the point. Because the “it’s not life and death” crowd? They never claimed they are more inconvenienced than the person having panic attack! Content warnings ain’t life and death either! They made no attempt to frame this tradeoff as fair or justified. Only that, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not so bad.

I call this Didoing.

(Relationship Discourse would call it The Tolerable Level of Permanent Unhappiness, which is a really powerful phrase, but I came up with Didoing and I’m keeping it.)

You see Didoing everywhere. Be as gay as you want, just don’t tell your commanding officer. Be trans if you must, but pee at home. Kink is fine, but keep it out of Pride. Drag is whatever, just not in front of children. Being a woman on the internet isn’t hard if you’re willing to block seventy thousand people and just use this service to scrub all your private information from the internet so men have a harder finding your home address. It’s eleven bucks a month! What, you can’t afford eleven bucks a month??!

And, yes, all these are minimizations, and, if you want, you can point that out. You can tell them what it’s like to get a Twitter DM threatening to murder your entire family using a quote from Mission: Impossible 3. Yeah, he’s probably not gonna do it! But it can still fuck up your day; the goal is to fuck up your day. But the “it’s not life and death” crowd won’t understand, not because they don’t care, but because they don’t care enough.

But even that is letting them control the conversation. You’re trying to stress the pain of a panic attack, the anxiety of a death threat, to emphasize a gulf of iniquity between their experience, as a person who does not deal with these things, and that of someone who does. As if, were the gulf smaller, it would be not so bad. In this, you have accepted their premise. Did you even catch what the premise was? That it’s okay for things to be unfair within a certain tolerance. That some people do and should take extra precaution just to exist in the world alongside the rest of us. That it’s okay for others to suffer for the convenience of the normals. Because it’s not so bad.

This is a bit different from how privilege usually works. The issue with content warnings - really, most things people Dido over - is that, if you are a person with triggers, it means other people can provoke a panic response in you against your will. The severity of that response is, frankly, immaterial: the point is, they have power over you, and, if you’re going to operate in this world as equals, you need their word that this power will not be invoked.

The usual move for people on the privileged end of a power imbalance is to deny the imbalance exists: “white privilege is a myth,” “there is no gender wage gap,” etc. etc. You would think, the greater the imbalance, the harder it is to deny, but it’s just the opposite: people Dido when the imbalance is small (or, at least, appears small in the eyes of the Didoer). It happens with content warnings, microaggressions; “no, I don’t get followed around Macy’s like I’m gonna steal something, but is that really so important? is this life and death? don’t you have bigger problems?” (Which is a funny thing to say, because, according to white privilege: no! The bigger problems don’t exist!)

Didoing is foundational to the privileged mindset, because it’s one scenario where they will admit to the Didoee, “yes, I do have power over you… and you should just let me have it.”

#video essay #alt right playbook

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jolenes-doppelganger · 7 months

Note

uuhhhhmm hi!! i was wondering if you’d be up to write a (smutty?) story about rose the hat!!! nothing specific but (i assume) you kind of know how rose is… and maybe incorporate that in the fic? and the whole steam thingy? yeah…

anyway! have a great day!!

[Hi! Thank you for the request! I really leaned into her more sinister qualities that were explored in the book, specifically her fascination with blood. She is a dark character, so this fic is reasonably dark. ]

The Debt

Rose the Hat x f!Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: Returning to the windy city was always a trip Rose dreaded. Not for the drab blocks of concrete, but for the memories that lingered. A child she’d let get away, a meal that had escaped her. The cost of that lapse. What happens when the familiarity of the city converges with the familiarity of a touch?

Warnings: Dark themes (threat of bodily harm, threat of murder, depictions of post-murder situations, etc), graphic sex (oral R receiving and giving, 69, penetration via fingers R receiving, breast worship giving, near smothering of R, light spanking receiving, blood kink, brief bondage, biting), !! Dub-con/coercion !! [Moments of straight M/F interaction between Rose and Crow, allude to nudity, brief touching, but not any more graphic than the novel itself described these interactions.]

A/N: Once again, this fic is not indicative of my moral code, I would NEVER condone someone pursuing a similar relationship, especially if the themes of dub-con/coercion are in any ways similar or amplified. *To be reasonably true to the characterization of Rose is to understand that she is an evil person and wouldn't show up to your door with a bouquet of flowers and a home-cooked meal.*

Word Count: 3.669k (hehe 69)

Rose hated Chicago. Chicago meant traffic, smog, disorder and weird looks. Traditional caravans sailed right by the town, so driving through it with the True Knot's troop of motorhomes would be both a nightmare coordination-wise, most certainly drawing unnecessary attention. The Knot camped out in a trailer park, using cars to drive into the city while a few stayed back to ensure the safety of their caravan; prime members slept in hotels in the city. Rose and Crow were assigned to a suite, sharing a King bed and a bathroom. Sleeping in a hotel meant access to a shower and larger amenities, but the wide open spaces bothered Rose. She preferred the coziness of her Earth Cruiser over the opportunity to shower at any given moment.

"Rosie, whatcha got on your mind?" Crow asked, chest bare, lounging in the bed after their coital affair.

Rose snorted, tits out and unashamed. Her hat was set off to the side, hair tousled from their passion.

"I hate Chicago, that's what's on my mind."

Her lover nodded, trying to remain considerate, but he was really focusing on the curve of her breasts.

"It's temporary. We'll get the kid by the end of the week. And in the meantime..." he smirked, reaching to bring her in closer.

Rose rolled her eyes, playfully swatting away his advances.

"As if you were hard again." she protested.

"What if I was?"

Rose reached down. He was flaccid, predictably so. They hadn't fed in a while. He was like any man in his mid-50s, capable of lasting one round, needing a little blue pill to sustain an erection for longer than a few minutes.

"We need to eat." Rose grimaced.

She got up from the bed, walking into the large shower. She was tired. One look at herself in the mirror and Rose saw just how weak she was getting. They needed that kid. Her crow's feet were growing more pronounced, her belly sagged, so did her breasts. Cellulite littered her thighs, and her upper chest had that ugly scaly look that developed in older people exposed to the sun. It was unbearable. She turned the light off and showered in the dark.

<------------->

It was done. The little girl with the braided pig tails was limp in front of Rose; the child's body had given up. Normally she'd be feeling extra frisky right now, leaning into Crow's advances as he felt her up under her bloody shirt, but she just felt hollow. Giving out cleanup duty was easy. Crow pressed on the child's chest, pushing the last bit of steam into the metal cannister. Rose cut off the friendship bracelet the child had on, tying it around the cannister. Crow sensed something was off, and he followed her into the Earth Cruiser. She put the cannister away, looking up at him with vacant eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Rose walked into the bathroom, using the reserve water to fill the sink, stripping her clothes off as she washed away the blood.

"The kid. The one we lost ten years ago."

Crow sighed.

"The one that disappeared after we followed her into Joliet?"

Rose nodded, lost in her own thoughts.

"I want to borrow your truck, head into the town. I need a night for myself."

Crow frowned. Rose only ever went out alone in dire circumstances. She was upset, and it perturbed him.

"That can wait 'till morning, let's spend tonight-"

"No." she cut him off. "You have a hallway pass, go fuck someone else tonight."

Now Crow knew something was off. Rose was possessive, unreasonably so. If he so much as looked at another woman, he'd hear about it eventually. But offering a hallway pass unprompted? Something was up.

"Rosie, stop. We're going to talk about this." Crow planted his hands on his hips.

"No, we're not."

Rose pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, jeans and a sweater. The topper came with her, obviously. Crow attempted to block her as she left, but he was only a few inches taller than her. With the top hat she had the odd ability of appearing a head taller than everyone atop of her 6' frame.

"Move."

Rose exited the cruiser, Crow's keys in hand. She jumped into the vehicle, speeding out of the campsite. She had one destination in mind, one person in mind.

"Alright you little snot." Rose fumed, focusing her attention on an energy signal she'd been trying to pinpoint for the last decade. "You want to play games? Don't you know what you cost me?"

For the first time in decades, Rose was speeding. The True Knot never violated traffic laws. It drew attention, but in Rose's current state of mind, pushing 80 on the highway was the only reasonable balm to her anxiety. Through the midst of her anger-fueled aggression, she felt it. A little sensation, a prick of energy so damn familiar it made her stomach flop. She slowed down, pulling into the far right lane, focusing her energy on that little bubble of energy.

"Oh honey, you're still here, huh?" Rose whispered. "(Reader) was your name, wasn't it? But that's not what we called you, little minx. You're a Pandora's box."

Rose drove through the suburbs of Joliet, drawing closer and closer, running Crow's gas tank down to the last quarter. It didn't matter, she was close. The little buzzing in her head continued, until finally it was unbearable. Rose grinned, pulling off to the side of the road in front of a cute little red brick house. She didn't do anything, not yet at least. Instead, Rose adjusted the rings and bangles on her left hand. Left for receiving, various 'lucky' charms she'd collected. The right hand she kept bare. It was her dominant hand, she liked it bare. That and it was the 'giving' hand. She didn't need any sort of energetic enhancements, more likely hindrances upon her.

"You're alone in that little house, Pandora." she smirked.

Creeping toward that house like a wanted visitor, Rose waved to a few neighbors who were walking about. The only malicious element that could even tickle the minds of observers was that hat. Tipped at that weird angle, barely hanging onto the crown of her head, like a poorly perched bird. Rose reached for the knocker; she didn't need to try the doorbell to know it was broken. A soft click as the door opened.

"Well, hi there." Rose smiled.

You didn't have time to fasten the dead bolt before she'd forced herself in, towering over you and pinning you against the nearest flat surface.

<------------->

She'd tied you up. The deranged woman with the most certainly semi-cognizant hat had tied you up on your childhood bed.

"Who the fuck do you-"

"Shut up." Rose demanded, slapping her hand over your mouth. "You're gonna listen, you're gonna stay quiet, and if you scream I will sew your mouth shut."

She moved around the room, closing the curtains, locking and barricading the door. Nothing was going to interrupt this, no one was going to stop her from getting that revenge she'd been dreaming of for a little over a decade.

"Three True died because of you." Rose sighed, settling on the bed in front of you. "They starved. We were all starving, but they couldn't hold off. And you? Look at you." she snorted. "What are you, a teenager? No, you might even be in your twenties. I've forgotten how old you were when we were tracking you."

The heinous monologue ended there. Rose pulled out a pocket knife, focusing on digging out the dried blood she hadn't gotten out underneath her nails.

"Are you a cannibal?" you asked, quiet.

Rose snorted.

"I mean, sort of. We don't eat flesh, but we eat. And you... God, you would have been tasty. Now you're grown up. Age ruins all the goodness of steam, it spoils, tastes rotten."

You swallowed, staring up at the woman with the knife.

"So by not being able to find and eat some part of me... People died."

"Not people, dear. True Knot, my family. The most important people alive."

Rose's personal fable was inherently narcissistic, unyieldingly ignorant of the world around her.

"So you're better than me because you eat... Kids?"

Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing your face.

"I'm better than you because I'll live for centuries. The oldest of us have seen empires rise and fall, we've seen society advance, society crumble, all of it." she whispered. "We are the chosen few, the best. You're... A rube. A stupid, forgettable little tick."

She seemed awfully presumptuous, you thought. But your small judgements were out of place with the extreme fear that clouded most of your higher processing abilities. The animal brain was clawing out from it's cage, and you knew that this meant the odd things would start happening. Ever since you were a kid, it had been the same. You were normal, happy, unbothered, and then once someone put you in a corner, it was like something out of a paranormal movie. The ropes at your wrists got loose. Then the ropes at your feet. They were spinning out, moving with every rapid beat of your heart. But your telepathy was no match for Rose's abilities.

Blinding white pain filled your head as Rose pressed two of her fingers into your left temple. Hands reaching up inside your head, hands clawing and tugging at the animal bit of your brain, shoving it down, pinning it into a corner. It was brutal, and it left you groaning from pain.

"Naughty little thing. But talented, so talented. Telepathy? At your age? God you would have been tasty. Maybe you still are..."

In your state of wooziness caused from Rose's rape-like invasion of your head, you hadn't noticed her reaching for the pin off of her hat. And then that pin was being pressed through the flesh of your clavicle, hitting the hollow skin there. It stung, badly. With a horrid scream, vapor sprung from your lungs. The woman inhaled it readily, her eyes flashing bright blue. And then she sputtered. She removed the pin, coughing and hacking violently.

"You taste... Disgusting." she winced, her face screwed up in disgust.

Blood trickled down from the wound on your collarbone.

"God I need to get that taste out of my mouth, it's like spoiled milk." Rose complained, looking around the room for something to rinse out her mouth with.

Her choices were scarce. Half-stale soda, water, (which wouldn't do a damn thing), or... Now that would do.

"Mnm." Rose smiled, licking the blood from your clavicle away.

Her tongue was revoltingly wet, and it stung where she licked you. Rose's face was screwed up in a light smirk, watching with interest as your body reacted against your ever-rational mind. Her tongue was soothing, and there was a degree of sensuality to her movements, the way she leaned down, rolling her tongue slowly over the wound. She was straddling you, a hand on your shoulder, the other behind your neck. And the tongue continued to work, the papillae of her tongue drawing a light friction over the wound. It was... Arousing.

"Did I tell you that you could touch me?" Rose smirked.

Your hands were resting on her back, drawing unconscious patterns.

"... No."

Rose chuckled at this, nipping lightly at your neck.

"You're enjoying this... Twisted little girl."

The bite went straight downwards, causing your pelvic floor to clench involuntarily.

"I'm not. Well, I am, not because I want to-"

Rose's lips crashed against yours, tongue immediately pressing through your lips as you gasped. Claiming, tasting, exploring. She coaxed your tongue out slowly, her hand cradling your head, massaging gently.

"Give me your tongue." a voice sounded in your head.

It was feminine. You obeyed, sticking it out. Rose's lips enveloped the muscle, sucking wetly. The result was immediate. Your hips twitched, your core clenched, and you let out a desperate moan into her mouth. Rose let out a low hum of approval, continuing to suck your tongue in and out of her lips, imitating oral sex. The suggestion was arousing, and when you pulled away, the look on her face said it all. Rose was pleased. She knew she was sexy, she knew what she was doing was hot, and the fact that you were confused, horny and scared, all against your will, it only served to pad her ego.

"Poor thing... Are you worked up?" Rose crooned, stroking your sides. "Tell you what... I'll make it better, but then afterward you and I are going to brainstorm a way to work off your debt."

Your words caught in your throat. You didn't want to owe her anything, that would be very bad, but you had a feeling that it wouldn't matter what you decided. She'd laugh if you told her you didn't want to fuck her, and probably fuck you anyways. But then again, to make the best out of a bad situation... Who would blame you?

"Mhm, you'll come around." Rose hummed, licking a stripe up your neck. "And it will be reaaaaal good."

Your hands were resting on her back again. She didn't scold you this time. She took the topper off, setting it to the side. Her hair was a little frizzy, but it really didn't matter. She looked like a fallen goddess either way. Her hands reached for the hem of her sweater, pulling it off. Pert, large breasts jiggled with the movement, unencumbered by a bra or other garment. You wondered why you hadn't noticed it before. Rose wondered why she was wasting her best window of performance on a rube.

"You like what you see? Oh I know you do." Rose smiled, resting her elbows on either side of her face. "Kiss them. Give them the attention they deserve."

You obliged, angling your head up to kiss one of her nipples. Tentatively at first, and then a little surer. Rose pulled down your bottom lip, silently beckoning you to open your mouth. She pressed her nipple into your mouth, sighing in delight as you obediently swirled your tongue around the areola.

"Beautiful. A little suction, not too much, I'm not a cow." Rose sighed.

Adding increasing levels of suction, you stopped when Rose let out a low moan, her hips bucking against your stomach. You alternated swirling your tongue and sucking, drawing the sweet noises from Rose's mouth.

"The other side now, my other girl is feeling left out." Rose breathily gasped.

As you swirled and sucked the other nipple, she reached up to pinch the previously worshipped breast. Her hips twitched erratically, and judging by the increasing frequency of her little gasps and moans, she was getting more aroused. Finally she pulled back, her nipple sliding out of your mouth with a wet plop. Rose pulled at her jeans, sliding them down her knees and onto the floor in one swift motion. Whether she took off her panties at the same time or was never wearing any, you couldn't be sure.

"Stay put." Rose ordered.

You leaned back against the bed. She put a knee on either side of your face, lowering herself as she spread her labia open. The sight was both daunting and arousing, her inflamed clit pulsing angrily amidst the pink strip of her inner labia. You opened your mouth as she lowered her entrance over your mouth.

"Lick." she breathily moaned.

You licked a stripe up from entrance to clit, tasting her for the first time. It wasn't anything pungent or otherwise remarkable, but it was good. She fisted her hands in your hair as she rocked against your tongue, pushing her clit into your nose.

"Stick your tongue in, fuck me with your tongue." Rose rasped.

Obeying, you punched your tongue in and out of her hole, catching her secretions with your tongue. Rose moaned emphatically, continuing to grind her clit over your nose.

"That's it, just like that..." Rose praised. "Pull me against you."

Grabbing her thighs for support, you pressed her down into your mouth, alternating between licking stripes up her labia and fucking her with your tongue. Her moans grew louder and more emphatic, pressing her clit into your nose until your nostrils closed, preventing your ability to breathe. She worked faster against you, riding your face with reckless abandon, either unaware or unconcerned with your lack of air. In a last ditch effort to prevent suffocation, you pistoned your tongue in and out of her earnestly until she let out a howl of pleasure, squeezing her thighs over your face.

...

"Hey, wake up!" a voice echoed, muffled and unclear.

A sharp sensation, someone shaking you. Things came into clarity, bit by bit. Rose was over you, shaking you and slapping your face. She came into focus slowly, her face flushed.

"Fucking finally." she swore.

Arms pulled you up, stripping you of the sweaty shirt that clung to your breasts. You weren't wearing a bra, who could blame you? It was midnight on a fucking Tuesday. Or Wednesday, you guessed.

"Are you awake now? I'm not done with you."

You frowned, still adjusting to being awake after nearly suffocating to death between the woman's thighs.

"Naughty thing. Lay over my lap, I'll get you awake again."

You groggily obeyed, breathing steadily. Rose's hands caressed your back gently, pulling your pajama bottoms down. You were still uncomfortable, although your arousal had significantly dulled following you passing out. Her hand caressed your panty clad bottom, squeezing and pulling the flesh expertly. You let out a soft hum of contentment.

"Wouldn't have been a bad way to go, you know." Rose teased, continuing to knead your buttcheeks.

You gave an unconvinced hum in response. Rose let out a low chuckle, giving you a playful smack on the rear.

"Let's try this again. This time you can be on top, huh?"

Rose helped you up, after taking off your panties of course. She laid upon the bed, and you moved to straddle her face.

"Nuh uh. Turn around, the other way."

You obeyed, facing her legs.

"Now lean down. Hold my legs open, that's right, princess."

Princess. The name felt more intimate than the other titles she had given you, most were insulting. You found yourself looking forward to tasting her again. Her clit still remained engorged, and you busied yourself with licking at it as Rose drew her hands back and forth over your thighs.

"Pretty pussy you've got." she crooned.

A sharp bite to your inner thigh. It shocked and aroused you, and your core clenched involuntarily. Rose gave a low chuckle at the sight.

"Is she this wet for me?" Rose cooed. "Might need to have a taste."

Her tongue parted your labia, circling your entrance. Your hips bucked into her mouth, and she smacked your butt in jest.

"Naughty."

To make up for your unintentional disobedience, you leaned down, spreading her labia and exposing her engorged clit to your tongue. You circled it a few times before pulling the hood back, sucking softly. Rose's reaction was immediate. She groaned, kneading your thighs tenderly.

"Mhm. Good girl."

Her tongue returned to your entrance, licking lazily, occasionally rolling over your clit. Enough to stimulate, not enough to really please. It was infuriating, but you doubled your attentions in the hopes she would reward you. Taking her clit in your mouth, you sucked it, drawing it back and forth between your lips like she had done earlier with your tongue. Rose moaned, letting out a few words that you didn't understand, a foreign tongue. Then her mouth was at your clit, her tongue drawing steady circles over the nerve. You felt her thighs clenching, and you held them open as she reacted accordingly. Her mouth abandoned your clit, and she moaned out, her hips thrusting against your mouth. Then her mouth was sucking violently against you, two fingers roughly penetrating you. But just as her orgasm subsided, just as a familiar clenching began in your abdomen, she pulled away.

"No!" you whined.

A harsh smack cracked over your ass.

"Shut it."

She pushed you to the side, sitting up. She used your shirt to wipe the mess off her face.

"If you want to come, you'll crawl over here and ride my fingers."

Much to your utter dismay, (and deep humiliation), you saw the truth in her eyes. Crawling into her lap like a discarded puppy, you winced as the pushed two of her fingers into you once more. But that was were her roughness ended. A hand encircled her waist while her thumb rolled gentle circles over your clit.

"Put your arms around my shoulders, princess."

The soft praise and gentler look returned to her eyes. She smiled softly at your obedience, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.

"You've been good... I suppose I should reward you."

Her fingers moved gently in and out of you while her thumb moved in that soft pattern. It was good, a gentle stimulation to push you up to a gentle climax. You had the feeling that if she wanted you to squeal in pleasure, she'd do so, but this was an allotment, not a reward. Her kisses on your neck turned into soft, tender bites, matching her tone. A slow build up to climax began, and you wrapped your arms tighter around her.

"I.. I'm gonna-"

"-I know you are. Now moan my name, 'Rose'."

You felt your lower muscles slowly starting to clench, and you let out a soft whimper.

"Rose!" you obeyed, feeling your pelvic floor clench and unclench erratically.

It was fulfilling, but not by much. In truth, you'd been most stimulated when you were pleasing her, a truth that made you aware of a darker truth. Rose was toying with you. She wiped her hand off nonchalantly, putting her hat back on. With that one action, she went from uncommitted lover to sinister debt-collector.

"Now. About that debt."

<------------>

A/N: This is really just a one-shot, I don't see a part two or continuation, but I would be more than happy to write a similar story or use a similar template to create a series. Feedback is always welcome. :)

#rose the hat x reader #rose the hat x you #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson x you #rose the hat smut #rose the hat x reader smut #rose the hat x you smut #lesbian #lesbian smut #doctor sleep #rose the hat #flanaverse

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lokisprettygirl · 4 months

Text

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 5 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Summary: Your anger gets Daemon in a bit of a trouble. Something really awful is going on at the king's landing wellness center.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, boring chapter, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

You found yourself idly picking at your cuticles as you waited for Dr. Vis to enter his office. You had been called in for a discussion and your gut told you that it was about Daemon. Despite working at the center for two years now, you couldn't even remember the last time the two of you had shared a full sentence but since Daemon had arrived you were on his radar for some reason.

As you heard him entering the office, you stood up to greet him. However, Dr. Vis gestured for you to sit back down,

"You are Y/m/n's daughter, correct?" Dr. Vis asked you as you sat down. You nodded, feeling a rush of emotions at the mention of your mother “She was a lovely lady, always so polite and warm” he commented but you couldn't really tell whether he was genuine with his compliment or not. You didn't think of him as a person who'd remember a custodian of all people.

“Yeah” you smiled as you didn't really know what else to say.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you about Daemon" Dr. Vis said, and your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name.

“Daemon-?” You questioned, much to your surprise your voice came out really firm.

“He's been under my care for years now, but I have never seen him so violent as he was with those guards” you gulped as he said that “I visited them and they confessed to me why Daemon attacked them” he continued,

“Why?” You asked him, pretending as if you didn't know the reason already.

“Because of you” he paused for a moment before continuing “those men perhaps said something nasty about you, which i assure that there will be repercussions for such a behavior but that is the reason Daemon attacked them, now if there's one thing i am certain of is that Daemon doesn't do anything that would not serve him in return” he continued

“I'm sorry i don't understand what you mean” you responded as you tried to keep your voice neutral.

“I'll be plain with you y/n, are you offering him services beyond your duty as a custodian?” Your eyes widened in shock as he questioned you plainly. The implication of the question left you feeling embarrassed and angry at the same time.

“Absolutely not, I take my work seriously and always treat patients as such” you mumbled confidently, the confidence came from the anger you felt at his insinuation, even though he wasn't completely wrong.

There have been touching and inappropriate conversations between you and Daemon but it was all over last night, you didn't want to get involved with him again especially if he was entertaining the likes of Shyla as well.

“Daemon is a borderline psychopath y/n, you must know what that means right? He's charming and highly manipulative but everything he does is for his own gain” Dr. Vis said with utmost conviction. Daemon might have been an arse but a part of you knew he was far from being a psychopath with no empathy for others.

“Why does he call himself a dragon?” You asked him so Vis let out a laugh but it wasn't the sort of laughter that could bring anyone any comfort or understanding, on the contrary it chilled you to the bone.

“Because he's sick, why did you ask?” he mumbled, his tone was dismissive.

“It's just I found feathers in his room and when I questioned him he told me that they belonged to him”

The smile on Viserys's face disappeared as you mentioned that, a part of you knew you shouldn't have said anything to him, what if he hurts Daemon more? You felt the sinking feeling in your gut for letting the words slip out of you in nervousness.

“Feathers you said?” He looked at you confused so you nodded “He must have hidden those in his belongings when he came here," Vis repeated, watching you closely. “Guards must not have checked his bag properly. It's just a part of the act, y/n.”

You gave him a nod as he said that.

“Is there anything else you want from me?” he smiled and looked at you intensely as you said that

“Keep me informed if you find other suspicious things in there”

“Sure” you stepped out of his office, rolling your eyes throughout the way. What did he think of himself? And Why did you tell him about the feathers? The guilt was only going to get worse as the day goes on.

As you made your way to room 393, you found the guards doing the thorough search of his belongings. Great job y/n.

Daemon was already tied up to a chair and handcuffed in the corner of the room.

“Ummm can I proceed?” You asked John so he nodded.

“We are almost done, do you want us to leave him like that? For the sake of your safety?” John asked you so you looked at Daemon, there was a definite smirk on his face that most instantly vanished at your response.

“I'd like that, thank you” you glared at Daemon and you could tell he was confused by the sudden change in your demeanor.

As the guards left you quickly went on to do your work, ignoring Daemon altogether. You were acting like a scorned ex-girlfriend and it took you a minute to realize that.

You heard him sniffing as he looked at you up and down before he spoke to you.

“You're upset..why?” He asked you but you ignored him again and that was enough to rile him up.

“Heyy talk to me alright?” He raised his voice a little bit so you glared at him

“i don't want to talk to you, I don't want to look at you and i don't want anything to do with you” Your words were harsh and your tone was cold, making it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him and that was your plan but then his eyes flickered and you could see that he was hurt by your response.

“Why? I apologized yesterday, you forgave me-” you cut him off mid sentence before he could go on,

“And then you decided to fuck Shyla”

As your words sunk in he snickered at first, went quite for a moment, and then cracked his neck in disbelief.

“Bravo..I was wondering why I was being raided first thing in the morning. What did you say to Vis , hmm?” he asked, voice full of hurt and confusion. You knew he felt betrayed about you going behind his back.

“It was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean it” you defended yourself and though it was true that you didn't share the information just to hurt him, you knew he'd feel hurt anyways.

“Oh why don't you accept it that you did it on purpose?” he asked you, his tone remained loud and snarky.

“Perhaps I did, now we are even” you retorted so he chuckled again.

“Oh are we? You can't hurt me because you're hurting, isn't that what you said yesterday”

“Don't turn this around on me alright? You don't get to be upset with me” your eyes welled up as you felt the surge of emotions coursing through you.

“I share those things with youuu, I choose to do so, because I believe in you or I did at least”

You didn't answer him as he said that. What were you supposed to say? You shouldn't have told Dr Vis about the feathers, you regretted doing it as soon as you had opened your mouth but you felt on the spot in that moment, what you had seen last night coupled with the nervousness you felt under Dr Vis’s suspicion made you feel so angry and you took it out on him. These days you were doing things you never thought you'd do. He really was driving you insane.

“You know what your problem is?” He asked as he suddenly rose up from the chair, breaking the rope and the handcuffs in one quick motion as if it didn't take a single ounce of strength.

He stepped closer, until you felt like he was practically looming over you so you crossed your arms defensively,

“Tell me, what do you think my problem is?” you challenged him

“Your problem is that you don't listen or ask for explanations, you just assume things.. you're so fucking judgemental..you saw her visiting me and just assumed that we were fucking in here” He spoke angrily, his jaw clenching, teeth gritting, face contorted with rage.

“I don't care if you're fucking her”

Now that was purely a lie which even you couldn't deny.

“Huh then why are you acting as if I have broken your heart?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I am-” you didn't even know how to justify your behavior. What was it to you if he was sleeping with other women? He wasn't your boyfriend.

“I don't want to be a part of this ..i can't..I can't.. feel this way that I am feeling, I don't like it ..it's hurting me and I don't like it” you trailed off, barely able to form a sentence that would actually make sense to him.

“I didn't ask you to come to me, to tend to me, to steal for me, i didn't ask for those things” his eyes welled up as he spoke, he felt as if he was losing you forever and it didn't feel right at all but if he was hurting you so badly then he didn't want to add to your misery either. If he was becoming too much to deal with he would not force you to be his friend or more.

“Right”

You looked at the shredded ropes and the broken handcuffs as you reached for them to clean it up. How did he have such marvelous strength? A part of you really wanted to believe that he was something extraordinary, but then he was also not well, he was a patient.

“We didn't fuck..i didn't touch her like that” he mumbled suddenly and your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't tell whether he was lying or not but then he really didn't have any reason to lie to you.

“Why else would she come to see a man who had supposedly harmed her?” You asked him as you grabbed your cart so he chuckled.

“She wanted to confirm a rumor she had heard at the hospital and she told me why she had lied that day”

“Why did she lie?”

“Why do you care? You didn't want to be a part of this right?” he mumbled sarcastically so you bit on your cheek and nodded.

“Right”

With a heavy heart, you silently turned around and left his room. You had made such a big fuss, and for what? You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for how you had behaved. Not only had you made the entire situation worse by telling Dr. Vis about the feathers, but you had also acted like a terrible friend and betrayed Daemon's trust in the process.

During Lunch hour he caught you staring at him, he knew you wanted to talk to him, it's not as if you had many friends here, he was starting to think that he was the only person you had genuinely befriended in a long time, your aversion to men wasn't just limited to sex but the whole idea of intimacy in general.

Later that night when you went to bed you felt extremely upset about the whole situation and you really missed him, perhaps you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so easily, eyes can be deceiving and a part of you trusted him when he said that he didn't sleep with her..

As you heard the knock on the door, you quickly leaped out of your bed and ran towards the door but composed yourself before opening the door.

“You know if you apologize I will forgive you” he mumbled as he walked past you and pulled down his hood. You knew you owed him a genuine apology for how you had acted this morning.

"Daemon, what are you doing?" you asked, shocked as you watched him frantically open every drawer in your room, rummaging through your possessions. You didn't see what he had taken, but you knew he had taken something and tucked it away in his pocket.

“Apologize darling” he mumbled as he turned around to look at you so you crossed your arms.

“Im sorry, I didn't mean to rat you out..that's not the kind of person I am .. usually” you looked down as you spoke, your heart felt heavy and he could sense your discomfort so he walked towards you.

“Why did you go into his office?” he asked, his tone now gentle.

“He called me in, Darryl and Jacob had told him that you attacked them because they had made a joke about me” Daemon was silent for a moment as he processed your words.

“You know about that?”

“I heard last night, that's why I wanted to see you, and then I saw Shyla and assumed -”

“That I was fucking her.. and that made you upset” he was smiling as he finished his sentence so you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah whatever, he asked me if I was offering you uhhh bed services or something for you to get so upset about a stupid joke-”

“Joke? They were insulting you..these people that you work with and trust so blindly”

“I don't trust them..I don't trust men ..i know how ugly they can be..but you can't attack people-” you responded as you felt a sense of frustration.

“I can and I will again if I hear anyone talking filth about you”

His words were bold and confident, and they didn't fail to have an impact on your already budding feelings. As he spoke, you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. Despite everything that had happened this morning, there was still a connection between the two of you that you couldn't ignore.

“And why is that?” you asked him so he grabbed you by the shoulders as he pulled you even closer.

“Because you're my friend sweetheart..I care about you, is that enough?”

“You can't attack people Daemon” as he attempted to pull away from you you reached for the collar of his hoodie and for a moment he was taken aback,

“I appreciate that you did..that you care enough about me but I don't want you to get hurt again, okay?” he couldn't help but smile as you said that. You worried about him, that much he knew.

“Alright, next time I'd hurt them less enough that they're not hospitalized” he said as a matter of fact so you let go of him, not knowing whether to reprimand him for being so stubborn or kiss his stupid face for being so protective of you.

“What did you steal from my drawer?” you asked to cut the tension so he stepped away from you.

“I'll show you woman..calm your gorgeous tits” he mumbled with a grin evident on his face, his words making you feel flushed instantly.

“Other men can't make a joke but you can talk to me this way?” you mumbled to hide your giddiness.

“I only do it because you allow me to, the day you'd ask me to keep my mouth shut for real, I'd never go against your words”

He always knew how to warm his way into your heart again, didn't he?

“If it's a scissor or a knife you better give it to me right now” you mumbled to steer the conversation again so he smiled and pulled out the scissors from his pocket, his hand wrapped around the handle, a part of you feared for his safety, he definitely was unpredictable and unstable at times.

“Daemon give me that please?” You mumbled softly as you stepped closer to him so he chuckled lightly.

“Ohh you beg so sweetly darling..but don't bother I'm not going to hurt myself i promise or you for that matter” he assured you and it did make you feel better but you still wanted to snatch that scissor away from him.

“Then why do you have it?” you questioned him softly so he smiled again.

“Trying to prove a point”

You couldn't even understand what he was trying to do so the shock and fear you felt was unimaginable when he started to chop away those beautiful locks of hair on his head.

“Daemon– “

“Calm down darling I can hear your heartbeat it's so loud…it's just hair …they grow back”

“Why are you doing this Daemon?” your eyes teared up as you questioned, a part of you felt awful seeing him chop those silver locks so carelessly.

“Just told you, I'm trying to prove a point”

“What point?”

“You wanted me to show you, that night you asked me to open your eyes so that's what I'm going to do”

“Cutting your hair is going to accomplish what?”

“You'll see”

Once he was done cutting his hair in a haphazard manner he walked towards you and grabbed your hand as he went down on his knees.

“Touch them” he spoke firmly but his tone was demanding and soothing at the same time.

“Why?”

“So you'd know they're real, that I'm not fooling you with a wig”

You hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped your fingers around his scalp. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his locks, and you heard him purr softly when you pulled on the roots lightly to confirm that they were indeed real.

“What now?”

You asked him softly so he chuckled, as his eyes raked over your inflamed cuticles he brought each finger to his lips and kissed on them one by one as if his kisses would soothe the burning sensation.

“Now you wait” you sighed deeply as he said that.

“Why don't you just come and see me when you're turned into a dragon?” you asked him softly so he sighed.

“It doesn't work that way, sometimes I can only grow my wings, the other times my hair is the only thing to transform, at times I'm able to build fire with my fingers but I lack the control, it comes and goes instantly, the reason why I have been so confused all my life is because everyone around me made me believe that I was losing my mind and at times i thought so too but not anymore” he mumbled, his voice laced with frustration but you could tell that he was choosing to trust you again with his secrets and mysteries. Or his delusions.

“You can..build fire?” you asked him so he nodded again as if it wasn't the craziest thing in the world.

Could that be the reason why he was burning like a furnace all the time?

“Okay, then I wait” you mumbled softly so he rose up slowly and hugged you tightly before he left that night.

However two days passed and his hair still looked the same, it looked really awful and you could tell that he was getting antsy about it as well. He clearly felt embarrassed and frustrated but dragon baby or not, you were going to help him get through this thing. Perhaps this was a coping mechanism for him , something he had developed as a child to cope with the loneliness he had surrounding him..

Three days later you finally dragged him out of his room and took him to the groomer in the facility to get his hair fixed. You liked how the longer hair looked on him, it made him stand out and if you were being honest with yourself it gave him a distinct aura but as he said it was just hair and it would grow back, at least he wasn't hurting himself.

As you assisted him back to his room he seemed a bit gloomy so you stepped inside and closed the door to offer him some comfort.

“Why are you sad?” You asked him so he sighed.

“Now you think I'm full of crap” he muttered, as if he was expecting you to judge him and call him a lunatic.

“I don't think that way” you responded.

“You certainly don't think very highly of me” he mumbled, his eyes seeming as if he was close to tearing up.

“That's not for you to decide” you told him confidently so he snickered at first but as you walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist to embrace him, you could see his defenses breaking down. “Besides, I don't care whether you're a dragon or not, I don't care whether or not you can turn into an otherworldly creature. I just care about you and I don't want you to get hurt” you mumbled as you looked up at him and you could tell he wasn't really expecting that, he was expecting you to make fun of his delusions and not be such an angel about it.

“So it's not a problem for you if I am lying about it?” he asked curiously so you gave him a smile.

“I'm sure you think you're not lying, it's real in your head and i believe that”

As you laid down in your bed that night, your mind was filled with mixed emotions. You couldn't stop thinking about the situation, and you found yourself feeling guilty about what you had done by telling Vis about Daemon's supposed feathers. You knew that you had made a huge mistake, and you really wished that you were capable of taking it back somehow but it wasn't possible.

The next morning as you dragged your cart into his room, you quickly beelined towards the bedside lamp, it was dark in his room and you heard the shower running already, which was a surprise as he often slept until late..

As he came out of the bathroom you had your back turned towards him so he smiled,

“I want to show you something” he mumbled in his “I'm sexy first thing in the morning voice” so you shrugged in response.

“Put your clothes on first..or just a cloth would do” you requested him so he grabbed a trousers from the closet and put it on.

As you turned around, you were greeted by a shocking sight - there he stood with a long, wet, silver mane cascading down his shoulders, almost reaching his waist.

As he approached, you took involuntary steps behind but there wasn't much room for you to hide. Was that a wig? How did he find it if it was? It can't be real right? What would you do if it was real? What would that even mean? You found yourself going through an existential crisis at the moment.

As you hit the wall, he placed his arms around you to entrap you between him and the wall, and he smelled divine, which wasn't really fair to you, you must smell like cleaning chemical products all the time, you thought..

You finally dared yourself to look up at his head, particularly at those long luscious thick hair.

“Touch it” he asked you as he let out a whispering voice so you shook your head, your eyes already teary so he grabbed your hand and brought it closer to his head before he leaned down and pressed his nose into your neck like always.

“Touch them please” your fingers eventually clutched around the roots of his hair and you sighed, from the relief but also the weirdness of the situation.

“Pull” he whispered in your ear so you closed your eyes and pulled on his strands slightly to confirm that his hair was actually real. It was all real.

“How?” You asked him a stupid question so he pressed his head up and looked at you intently.

“You know how, you just don't want to believe it”

“You turned into a dragon last night?”

“For a moment, it was enough”’

“What if I'm crazy.. and this is a hallucination? Just my mind playing tricks on me? What if this is not even real? What if you're not real” you looked up at him with your teary eyes and trembling lips so he tilted his head. He didn't expect you to understand this, not yet, nobody did, but at least you didn't run away from him at the first sign of trouble, last night you were in here telling him that you'd care for him no matter what, even if he was crazy and delusional you showed him that you'd stand by him.

His hands dragged up from the side of your waist and your breaths picked up immediately, his fingers then trailed the side of your curves, making your knees feel weak at the touch.

“Would this feel so hot if you were hallucinating darling?” he asked you as he opened the buttons of your cardigan, your fingers clutched around the waistband of his trousers.

“Daemon-” you whispered his name as his fingers glided over your chest, your nipples became erect quickly, the thin bra you had on did nothing to hide your shame. As he finally touched the aroused clothed nubs you almost combusted.

“It's all real, I'm real and I'm trying to show you who I am” he whispered in your ear as he cupped your breasts in his palms and rubbed his fingers over your bosom.

“How? Why? It can't be real Daemon” you asked him, not in the sense of judgment but disbelief. You found yourself annoyed by your own questions but he smiled instead.

“I don't really know, i wish to know why I am this way and I'll figure it out, that's why I'm here” he told you as he brought his palms up to cup your cheeks, thumb grazing over your lips tenderly.

“I'm sorry I am trying to make sense of it, I don't want to hurt you, I'm sorry if I still seem doubtful but I'm trying” you mumbled almost quietly so he nuzzled his nose against yours to calm you down.

“I know, i know sweet girl, thank you, nobody has tried before, nobody cared enough, just you being here is important for me”

You got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him, the scent of your hair calmed him for a moment but then he heard something and he immediately had you pressed against the wall with his hand wrapped around your throat, a moment later the door flung open.

“What's going on over here?” Dr. Vis asked so and you felt Daemon's grip around your neck tighten for a moment before he let you go.

“Your stupid fucking maid can't even do her job properly” he stormed towards Vis so he glared at him, a moment later two guards entered and handcuffed Daemon, you knew if he wanted to get out of their clutches he could have done so easily but he didn't even try.

“Are you alright dear?” Vis asked so you nodded, you knew Daemon pretended to attack you in order to protect your job and your image in front of Vis but you didn't think Dr. Vis was a man fooled so easily.

“Yes, I just need a moment” you mumbled as you caressed your neck and fixed your cardigan as you moved towards your cart to get the fuck out of there.

“What is this hmm?” Vis asked Daemon as he flicked his long hair to mock him.

“For a doctor you surely are dense”

The remark earned Daemon a slap on the cheek and then he was dragged out of the room for his therapy session.

The possibility of Daemon being an otherworldly creature was becoming more probable day by day and you didn't know how to accept it. How was it even possible? Did his mother sleep with a dragon? Or she was a dragon? Dragons existed? There were other human dragon hybrids in the world or he was the only one? Your brain was running a mile per second with all those thoughts in there.

Later that night you somehow were able to sneak into his room, there was a mark on his cheek and it made your heart clench for him,

“This is not right daemon..he can't treat you like this all the time, you're a patient here, not a prisoner” you mumbled softly as you caressed his cheek so he sighed,

“We need to stop seeing each other like this” he mumbled suddenly but it didn't really surprise you, you knew it was becoming dangerous for you both.

“Mmmm I'll stop tomorrow..did he not question the hair?” You asked him so he shook his head.

“He blames it on generalized hypertrichosis, claims that i have had it since birth”

“Even with the condition you can't grow 12 inches in a night-” you said to him and you could see the grin forming over his face “Shut up”

“I didn't say anything”

“You're doing it in your head”

“Head is definitely involved darling”

“Shut uppppp ..” you mumbled again so he grabbed your chin and leaned into you to kiss your forehead.

“They're beautiful” you mumbled softly as you grabbed a lock of his hair between your fingers, they were silky and so shiny as if he had just returned from a hair salon.

“Would you cut them a little bit shorter for me?” he asked you so you hummed in response before you spoke.

“Mmmm I definitely can but you should keep them for a night, I can braid them for you”

He was definitely happier about the prospect of getting his hair tended to so he excitedly sat down on the floor after passing you the brush. You carefully brushed the tangles and braided it from the sides before you tied those ends together in the center, he looked beautiful, you couldn't really take your eyes off him.

For some reason you just knew that this particular memory was going to stick with you for a long time to come.

The next morning, as you went about your morning routine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity wash over you. When you saw two policemen in the corridor with Viserys, it piqued your curiosity more than ever before. The police had been around the center quite a few times, usually when a patient would run away. You decided to investigate, and made your way towards the cafeteria, hoping to find answers. As you entered the room, you saw Shyla crying, and Dina trying to comfort her so you approached them as well.

“What's wrong?” You asked her so Dina sighed, her response wasn't what you could have expected even in your worst nightmare.

“That previous patient Tanya from 393? Her body was found in the woods nearby last night”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #non canon au #modern day au #modern daemon targaryen

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kittydragondraws · 2 months

Text

This Fandom is Weirdly Misogynistic and Ableist

Yeah great title there bud.

So originally this was going to be a half-baked rant about how people disrespect V, but the more I brainstormed that I came to realize. This fandom in general has a problem with misogyny and even ableism towards not just V, but Uzi as well. Heck, I would almost say Uzi moreso.

When it comes to personality butchering, I'd say V gets it worse. The number of times I've seen people make her sound like some petty, vengeful ex makes me want to rip my laptop screen off its hinges.

And most of the reason they do this, episode 4.

When Uzi and V are together in the cabin, V tells Uzi that it's better to stay distant because she'll have to kill Uzi next. Afterwards saying that N's made friends with rocks before, and that he'd move on from her death just fine.

Now, I honestly love this scene. It's a moment where Uzi and V get to be together and V gets to show her true colors without having to hide them from N. She expresses her desire to kill Uzi, because she believes it'll keep N safe, and tells her about the rock friends to make her feel like she's just some cheap novelty to N. This scene is great.

Yet apparently, some people looked at this scene and saw it as V being jealous of Uzi's relationship with N and wanting to kill her over it.

Now I just have to ask... why. This scene is so easy to understand when you just sit and think about it, so why did so many people default to it being a ship thing?

Maybe because she's just a pantless whore who exists just for people to thirst over. At least, that's what Reddit bros and Discord trolls would have you believe.

Now, I do feel it's a bit stupid to look at an unpopular female character and say "well you'd like her if they were a guy", but with V I have a feeling that's exactly the case.

V's not fan service, she's not a hoe or some crazy ex. She's just trying to keep herself from losing one of the few sane constants in her crazy, messed-up life.

But of course, she can't be an intelligent or deep character, she's just a petty woman upset at Uzi for stealing her man and who needs to put on some pants.

Now Uzi, I'd have to say her treatment is worse. Not just because it's the same sexist bullshit V has to put up with, but because she's neurodivergent.

Okay, that was a lie, she's not canonically neurodivergent. But she does have a lot of traits of a neurodivergent person. Being a social outcast, thought of as weird because of her interests and behavior.

Most people who headcanon Uzi as neurodivergent seem to agree that she could have autism, ADHD, or BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder), and I just wanna talk a bit more about her unofficial BPD diagnosis because I think that's the most fascinating out of the three.

In this image I highlighted some symptoms that feel very similar to personality traits Uzi has. Like, it's so similar it almost feels weird to say Uzi having BPD isn't canon.

Now I know what you're going to say, "But Kitty this is just people's headcanons."

And you know what? Fair honestly. But even if Uzi doesn't have autism, ADHD, or BPD, she almost definitely has some form of trauma and you'd be hard-pressed to try to argue with me she's neurotypical.

Uzi's not a pick me, she's a traumatized, possibly neurodivergent, girl trying to hold onto the first friend she's ever made.

Or hey? Maybe she should just suck it up and learn to take care of herself.

Honestly, this post is just a TLDR version of this.

#kitty's kooky insane ramblings #murder drones #kitty's deep thoughts #uzi doorman #murder drones uzi #uzi murder drones #uzi md #md uzi #serial designation v #sd v #murder drones v #v murder drones #n md #md v #fandom ableism #fandom sexism

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alovesongtheywrote · 11 months

Note

can we pleaseeee have a pt.2 to nightmare academia bc THOSE TWO HAVE SO MUCH TENSION???!!!!!

♥ Summary: abso-fucking-lutely you can. here's reid's proper response to the typewriter incident(s) [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: discussions of sex, but no actual smut. arguing. spencer's a little mean, but shit, so's the reader. crim and psych facts. this is another 1000 words of the reader being a brat and reid losing his cool over it

♥ A/N: i still don't know when this is. if you have ideas, lmk, but again, im thinking it's right after s9.

♥ Word Count: 1646

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Yeah, so, about three weeks later, your students started breaking down again. You had to wonder if Dr. Reid was actually some sort of closet sadist who enjoyed watching his students break down. You tried to shake that thought from your head. He had been an FBI agent, after all!

If he was a sadist, he wouldn’t have left the FBI.

You reached your sobbing student quota of seven faster this time- though in at least one instance, the student apologized for Reid.

“He’s a good professor,” they said, curling up in a hard plastic chair that was not meant to be curled up in, “He’s just really bad at technology.”

You couldn’t help but agree. The students you had in common with Reid were incredibly insightful when they spoke in class- specifically on topics that the doctor would have touched on. Despite that, you could only have so many students come to you on the brink of collapse without doing something about it.

So. You brought the typewriter out again.

Spencer had tried to do the whole laptop thing. He really had. However, when the time came for one of his classes to submit an assignment, half of that class presented him with links to Google Documents that he couldn’t access. And this was after he requested PDFs!

After a weekend of writing emails, making repeated calls to Penelope Garcia, and lying facedown on the couch trying to fight off a migraine, Reid gave up on the technology thing. He banished laptops from his classroom once more. He told himself he just wouldn’t let the typewriter bother him. He wouldn’t let you bother him. At least, you wouldn’t bother him as much as emails did.

Then he got to class.

“So, when we look at externalizing disorders-”