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skittlesfics · 2 years

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name: company ink pairing: Argyle x Reader word count: 3010 summary: During a bad shift at the pizza shop, Argyle offers to smoke you out. contents/warnings: tits, weed usage, vague descriptions of being high, tagged smut for sexual content but no actual sex, mostly fluff author's note: okay I was going to post the request, and then I remembered this idea kicking around and I had to get it out. Something the tiniest bit spicier, may be potential for a part two read part 2 here

- You huffed as you hung up the phone, yet another irate customer yelling about prices that you had zero control over. Some days you had a lot of fun at this job, and others you were this close to throwing in your thematic Hawaiian shirt and visor for something less soul-sucking.

“That’s not the happy face I’m looking for.” Argyle popped into view from around the corner as if to remind you of why you stayed at this place, his empty delivery bag dangling from one shoulder as he returned from the most recent round of deliveries. He was lucky; another driver had just taken the newest stack, leaving him an actual break from driving for once. You wrinkled your nose at him and leaned back against the wall, your head hitting the shitty bulletin board with more force than you had intended.

“Don’t give me that ‘smile’ bullshit today, Argyle, I’ll scream.” You said, closing your eyes against the impending stress headache. The regret set in immediately. You felt gross, snapping at your one work friend like that, but you were just about at your limit, and you didn’t need anyone prodding at you further. Not even your cute coworker who occasionally sold you weed.

“Whoa, man.” You heard Argyle’s footsteps and thought he was leaving, but just as quickly as they receded, they returned, coming towards you behind the counter now.

“Need a smoke? I’m out of purple palm tree delight, but I scored some black triangle kush that’ll get you real mellow.” He sounded about as concerned as Argyle was capable of, which only made you feel more guilty for snapping at him. You pressed your lips together, opening your eyes to see the dark-haired boy looking at you with genuine concern. Fuck.

“It’s just been a rough day, I’m sorry. I’ll be okay. I honestly don’t have the spare cash for weed right now.” You normally used your tips to get enough weed from Argyle to make it through the rough days, but your last few shifts had been pretty stingy and you had your half of an electric bill to worry about this week.

Argyle’s brow knitted together thoughtfully, and you swallowed a thought about how adorable he was when he tried to think, especially when he was already toasted.

“I could smoke you out, if you wanna take your break now. We’re friends, you don’t always have to pay.” He offered. He shifted his delivery bag off his shoulder and dumped it onto the counter like it was a done deal. You chewed your bottom lip, glancing between him and the phone.

“I don’t want to put you out. You can’t give away weed every time a girl is in crisis. I can pay you later, or make it up to you somehow?” You offered guiltily. Argyle simply shrugged and gestured for you to follow him outside.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You hesitated only long enough to yell that someone in the kitchen would have to grab the phone and scurried behind him, eager for any sort of stress relief.

You shifted awkwardly in your seat as Argyle rolled a joint in front of you. He was explaining the differences between this strain and his usual one, but you were only half listening, your eyes following the expert movements of his fingers.

“… hybrid, so it might make you a little sleepy, but you’ll definitely be more relaxed. I always get cotton mouth, but I didn’t give the last house their pepsi since they yelled at you on the phone, so you can drink that if you need it.”

You nodded along as if you were listening. He twisted the end of the joint and admired his own rolling job before holding it up to his mouth to light. You had always been attracted to your coworker, but “don’t shit where you eat” had been heavily ingrained in your mind from the drama at your first job. You were doing your best to respect that, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t look. He held the joint between his lips, using one hand to shield it from non-existent wind and the other to light the end with his lighter. He let the twisted paper burn down, taking a few puffs to draw the flame into the weed, and then offered it to you.

You tried not to think about the slight dampness from where he had kept the filter in his mouth for too long as you took a long pull, holding the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before exhaling.

He still hadn't given you a way to repay him, but you didn't bring it up yet as you returned the joint carefully pinched between pointer finger and thumb. He took it with ease, eyes trained on your face as he leaned back to take a hit. He inhaled deeply, holding for a beat before exhaling through his mouth and nose, smoke pouring from him like some sort of fancy incense holder.

You couldn't help but laugh, grinning as he broke into a smile.

"That's it. There's my smile. Consider your debt paid in full." He said cheerfully, reaching out to gently pat your cheek. His touch shouldn't have burned the way it did, but then, none of the way you felt around Argyle made any sense. You shouldn't get jealous when he told you stories of customers flirting with him. You shouldn't hang on to his every word. You shouldn't mope around the pizza parlor until he comes in from each delivery with some story or snippet of something that he thought might cheer you up. You really, really shouldn't shit where you eat.

You let him place the joint between your lips, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed gently against your lips as he pulled away. You were sure you imagined the slight intake of breath on his part, the way his eyes lingered on your lips, the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before tearing his eyes away.

Fuck, the weed was hitting quick if you were already this horny. You took another hit, inhaling slowly and holding the smoke in your mouth for a second before breathing it into your lungs. You exhaled, feeling yourself start to melt into the floor of the van. Argyle took the joint as carefully as he had placed it, dropping it into the ashtray he kept on hand.

"I don't think a smile is enough to pay you for weed, Argyle." You slurred lazily, flicking your eyes up to gaze at him through thick lashes. You didn't remember when you laid down fully, but there he was, sitting upright and towering over you.

"No?" He asked, still smiling. Argyle was always smiling. That was one of the things you liked so much about him. You reached up and poked his cheek, grinning when it made his smile widen.

"No." You repeated, shaking your head slightly. He shifted closer, his leg bumping up against yours as he made himself comfortable. There was a brief silence as your brain processed the new input and he just watched you, waiting. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him.

"What would be enough to pay me for weed?" He asked, finally. You hummed. The logical part of your brain was telling you to stop now, that he might reject you and that would be awkward and you couldn't get a new job quickly if this went sour because you got frisky after a little weed.

The less logical side of your brain was telling you that you knew the way he looked at you. How his eyes lingered when you stretched to get the boxes from the top shelf, your shirt slipping up to reveal the slightest bit of skin. How he always looked your way when he made a joke to be sure that you were laughing. How he undercharged you for weed, or slipped extra in the bag when you weren't looking. You liked that side much better.

You played with the collar of your shirt as you considered the best way to answer, not missing the way his eyes followed your hand and then drifted down before deliberately, dutifully returning to your face.

"Remember that delivery to the apartments down Oakside last Tuesday, 3A?" You asked. You watched his face as he thought back, trying to count the days backwards to remember what you meant. His lips moved silently as he thought, mouthing the pizza orders of the places he remembered. You couldn't help but smile at his moment of realization, the tips of his ears growing a deep red at the memory. Large white pie, extra sausage.

"You mean the one with the..." he mimed opening a robe, his eyes slightly wide as the implications of your words slammed into him all at once. "No way, dude, you don't have to..." He trailed off. His eyes were already drifting back down, Adam's apple bobbing with the force of his nervous swallowing.

You smiled and gave him a slight nod, fingers already fiddling with the first button on your work shirt.

"That's the one. I think you said something about a pizza costing more than just a look." You teased, moving on to the next button when the first finally popped open. "Does that apply to weed, too?"

Argyle's lips parted like he was about to say something, eyebrows knitted together as he grappled over what to say, but no words came out. He blinked hard, shaking his head slightly like he was making sure you were really there, then he looked down at the joint, inspecting it for anything he hadn't added.

"Argyle?"

"If it's for the weed, you don't have to." He repeated, his voice high with nervousness. You had one button left, and you made quick work of it, letting your shirt rest, partially open, on your chest. You felt incredible. High, powerful, sexy, bold... You could take on the world, if the world were the cute boy sitting with his mouth slightly open across from you. The world around him was hazy, tilting slowly, but that didn't matter when you felt like this.

"I want to." This was stupid. This was brilliant. This was ridiculous. This was... everything. You couldn't decide as he shifted next to you, moving closer like he was waiting for you to take it back. "Aren't you curious?"

You could tell from the way he looked at you that he was more than curious. Maybe he was hoping for this, or something like this. Maybe this hadn't been the first time he thought about you in the back of his delivery van. Maybe he wanted more than you were even offering him right now. He said none of that out loud, his fingers gingerly finding the edges of your shirt and pushing them apart, inch by inch.

The fabric was silky against your bare chest, the whisper of friction sending chills across your skin. You wondered if, this close, he could tell your heart was pounding in your chest, leaping at his careful touch. The places his fingers grazed against you were impossibly warm and the sensation of his skin on yours was nearly enough to send you spiraling. His eyes flickered between your face and your chest, searching for any sign of reluctance. Finding none, he finally just pulled your shirt open, a small groan falling from his lips at the sight of your bare tits beneath him.

"You are, like, unreal." He mumbled, his eyes devouring the sight of you like you were going to disappear. You flushed under the intensity of his gaze, fighting the urge to cover yourself or pull your shirt closed again. Your head was spinning in an entirely different way now, the weed paling in comparison to what Argyle was making you feel right now. You watched as he wet his lips with his tongue, goosebumps forming across your skin at the thought of what he might do with that.

You took a breath, watching him as he watched the rise and fall of your chest, memorizing the curves of your torso as you just existed. Argyle had always been cute, but the way he looked at you made you ache for him. The world was hazy and soft, the weed having filed off all the hard edges, and yet Argyle was the only thing in sharp focus. You smiled, reaching for his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he took yours just as easily. You pulled it towards you, dropping it only inches away from the swell of your breast.

"More than a look, right?" You breathed and the look he gave you would have melted you if you weren't already there. You were playing coy, but you were practically begging for his touch, laid out all pretty beneath him like you belonged there. Even just sitting there, not moving, his touch sent flames across your skin, quickening your breath and making you desperate.

"You're sure?" Argyle was in just as much of a state, his face a dark red, breath coming heavy and deliberate. He shifted uncomfortably, cock straining against the rough denim of his jeans in a way that neither of you could ignore. If you'd had doubts before they were gone now, replaced only with the desire for him to just touch you already.

"Don't make me beg." That was enough to get him moving, shifting to his knees like he had only been waiting for you to say the word. His hands were rough, calloused, awkward, but they felt so fucking good as he finally cupped your breasts, fingers pressing in slightly as he experimented with a gentle squeeze. You inhaled sharply, your back arching slightly into his touch and he took the encouragement for what it was.

He touched you carefully, experimenting to find the things that made you gasp, that made you look at him like you wanted more. It was when he leaned in, lips parted, pupils blown wide with desire that you knew you were a fucking goner. "Can I?"

You almost cursed at him for asking, reaching up to thread your fingers into the thick curtain of his hair and pull him closer to your chest. He smoothed one steadying hand across your abdomen and leaned in, his breath fanning across your nipple in a way that already had you shivering. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to press a hot, warm, kiss to the side of your breast. You moaned, the sound floaty and distant to your high mind. If his fingers were warm, his mouth was searing, leaving you needy and breathless as he decorated your chest with open-mouthed kisses, lips and teeth and tongue seeking out all the sensitive places his fingers had mapped out before.

Your grip on his hair tightened, your body arching into him as he came tantalizingly close to one of your nipples and then kissed around it, sucking at the skin just under where you wanted his mouth most. If it were anyone but Argyle, you would've thought it was a deliberate ploy to make you needy, pliant under him. It worked anyway, your brain swimming with want for him, his mouth, his fingers, his everything.

When he pulled away, he was enraptured, dark eyes trained on your body, lips slightly swollen from kissing your chest. Neither of you spoke for a moment, eyes trading questions about intentions rather than risking words.

You were ready to speak, to ask when it happened. BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three sharp raps on the side of the van that sent you scrambling away from each other, nearly colliding in your haste.

"Come on, Argyle, I can smell you in there." It was the other delivery driver, no doubt irate that he had been left to do back to back runs.

"Uhhh," Argyle's voice came out thick and raspy, and he had to clear his throat before trying again. "Dude, my bad, lost track of time. New strain." He called out, eyes not leaving you as the excuse fell easily from his lips. You envied his composure, still struggling to rebutton your shirt under his scrutiny.

"Whatever, just go pick up your pies, dude." The annoyance was clear even when muffled and tinny through the doors of the trunk. You bit your lip, casting Argyle a guilty look as you considered what chaos you might be returning to. He was all smiles, though, as he reached over to his ashtray and picked up the blunt, plucking it to place between his lips as if he hadn't missed a beat. He relit it and took a hit before replying.

"Alright. My bad, man. Won't happen again." He assured, passing you the blunt. You took a small hit and passed it back, exhaling for longer than needed in an attempt to calm yourself. Your body still felt like it was on fire with want for him, but you couldn't just say that when he seemed to bounce back to his normal, unbothered self. "Guess we have to get back." he intoned, just for you.

"Guess so." You responded breathlessly. He smiled guiltily and reached out to help you fix the button you had messed up, leaving a gape right at your cleavage. Somehow that's what made you squeeze your thighs together, shifting uncomfortably as he helped fix your clothes.

"Maybe we could hang out later?" He offered, his eyes promising all the things he wasn't saying out loud. Or maybe that was just the weed and desire talking because right now all the bullshit warnings about getting involved with coworkers were far from thought, lost somewhere on the tip of Argyle's tongue, or perhaps in the palms of his hands, or in the gaze that darkened ever so slightly when his eyes fell on you again, contrasting his easy smile.

"Yeah, maybe."

#Argyle x Reader #Argyle Imagine #Stranger Things Reader Insert #Stranger Things x Reader #Stranger Things Imagine #Argyle Fluff #Argyle Smut #3000 - 3500 #x reader #fluff

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immrbrightsideeee · 2 years

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Hiiiii!

Are you open for a tiny request, Love? It's cool if you're not but in case you are (and that's entirely too many words there lol), could you do something fluffy with Remington? Like a movie night with lots of cuddles and fun and comfort? I need a hug lol

I also wouldn't say no to some smut but that's your decision

Anyway, you're amazing <3

Love you

OK I'm sorry it took so long!!! Anyway there might be a fluffy smutty part 2 idk :)

Movie Night

Remington Leith x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Summary: Remington and Y/N have a fun movie night

It had been a week. A long week. The kind of long, endless week that had you lying face down on the couch groaning the moment you got home. You wanted your snuggliest PJs, your best friends, boyfriend, movies and some pizza. But people were busy. And there was work to do. And cleaning. And a tonne of other responsibilities falling down onto your shoulders, and you were exhausted.

When your cat came up to give you an affectionate headbutt, you couldn't help but think why couldn't life for humans be as simple as a house cat? You get fed, loved, you play all day and night and do what you want? It was while you were pondering philosophies and cats that you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You frowned. Please don't be anyone important, please don't be stressful, please don't...

Oh. It was your boyfriend, Remington. You shuffled yourself around on the couch, rolling over and barely avoiding tumbling off as you answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, how are you doing?” Remington's voice was a comforting sound on the other end of the phone.

“I'm good, you??” You shot back immediately, so quick that Remington got suspicious.

“..Riiight, I don't believe that but I'm not gonna push you right now. I'm actually not doing so good,” he said, slowly, “Today has just been shitty, and anyway I was wondering if you're free?”

“Ah, yeah, when?”

“Um, now? It's OK if not, I get that there's a lot going on it's just that, I dunno, I miss you.” His voice was so soft and sweet and you could almost picture him scrunching up his face a little and rubbing the back of his neck. The image melted your heart. How was he so impossibly cute all the time?

“I'm free, and I miss you too, trust me.”

It had been a few weeks since the two of you had seen each other, Remington was busy writing and recording his and his brother's new album, and you were busy with work and family responsibilities. There wasn't much time to see each other, and it was breaking both of your hearts. But you tried not to think about it, you talked every day anyway. But seeing him tonight would definitely revive you.

“So, got any ideas?” you asked, changing the mood to something lighter.

“Would it be OK if I come over? I just feel like staying in, but I also can't stand being away from you any longer, and I really can't handle another hour alone with my brothers.” Remington laughed a little and you smiled without meaning to, only able to imagine the nonsense the boys had gotten up to that day, let alone week.

“'Course! Just, um, give me a few, OK? I'm a bit of a mess at the moment.” You thought of the pile of clothes all around your room and the stack of dishes.

“Aw baby, you know I don't care about any of that, but if it makes you feel better would half an hour be good?”

“Yeah, it should be.” There was silence as the conversation started to end, then you spoke. “Oh! Wait, would it be annoying if I ask you to bring some dinner? I don't have it in me to cook.”

“Sure! What do you feel like?”

“Ah, surprise me, I trust you.” You smiled into the phone and could just about feel him smiling back. He let out a slight laugh of delight and you both said your good byes and got ready.

You had just managed to change into something comfier than your work clothes (after the quick semi-cleaning) when you heard a knock on the door. You smiled, and practically ran to get the door.

“Hey!” A grinning Remington greeted you, with a plastic bag of take-away in one hand, and some flowers in the other. He held out the flowers with a cute little blush.

“Hi- aw! Baby, you didn't have to,” you said, cooing and taking the flowers, a little flustered by how considerate your boyfriend was.

“I don't have to, but I love to,” he said, stepping in the door and towards you with arms open for a hug. “Plus,” he said, arms around your waist “you deserve all the flowers in the world.” There was no time for you to swoon as his lips were already on your for a brief, honey-sweet kiss. When the kiss was over, Remington didn't move, he merely held his forehead against yours, eyes closed, and sighed, drinking in the moment that he had missed for so long. You couldn't help but watch him in awe, biting your lip, then rubbing your nose against his til he opened his eyes to see his favourite smile.

“Come on,” he said, brushing a hand against your cheek but pulling away, “or we'll never make it inside.”

After a few minutes, you both had a plate, stacked high with a few different types of Thai food. You were sitting on the floor in front of the couch, using the coffee table like a dinner table, purely because you could. You were adults, who was gonna say you couldn't? You snuggled up tight next to each other, as you both ate quickly, hungry from a hard week.

When Remington finished his plate he looked over at you. You looked at him. He looked at your plate, then back up to your eyes. And before you could say 'Rem, no' he had already taken the biggest piece of chicken from your plate. You playful whacked his arm and he laughed so hard he nearly choked. The smiles radiated from both of you, even though neither of you were talking.

Eventually, when the silence got too much for you, you turned the TV on and tried to pick a movie. You were browsing Netflix and Remington was browsing your DVD collection when his eyes fell upon “Mamma Mia”. Without saying a word, he started to quietly hum the tune. Then he opened his mouth to keep singing the tune.

“neh neh neh nEEEEH, NE NE NE NE NE,” he sang, now he was facing away from you, one hand holding the DVD as his hands rose to the sides, shaking his hips and doing jazz hands. By the time he finished the intro, he turned around and started full on performing.

“I'VE been cheated by YOU since I don't know when, de de de de da da, de de de de da,” he sang the lyrics as he walked towards you, one leg crossing in front of the other, pointing when he said 'you' and waving his hand. He then gestured to you to sing the next part. You shook your head, so he continued himself. But it was too much for you and you joined him, and in a matter of seconds, the two of you were jumping around the living room, singing to the song that was playing in both your heads, and above all, being absolute idiots. Your cat watched you both, unamused, but you and Remington were having the time of your lives. When you both finished singing you collapsed laughed so hard even though you were trying to catch your breaths.

“So,” Remington said, after calming down a little, “I think I know what we're watching tonight.”

“I think so too,” you said with a cheeking grin, before giving you boyfriend a peck and putting the DVD in the player.

By the time the movie was done, you were curled up into Remington's chest, his arms around you, both of you smiling with slightly sore throats from singing so much. As the credits rolled, he gave you a little peck on the top of your head.

“Thanks for letting me come over, Y/N.” Remington said, grateful for even a moment with you. The comment worried you though, did he want to leave so soon? It's only... Oh. Eleven thirty.

“Do you think you can stay the night?” you asked.

“For you? I'd do pretty much anything.” the smile he gave you warmed your heart, and you lent in for a soft kiss. But the kiss only proved how much you had missed each other, and the soft love turned into a passionate gesture.

The kiss was broken for only a few breaths and the two of you shuffled closer together, entangling your arms around each other as your lips met once more. Remington gently bit your lower lip, causing you to moan and he took this opportunity to explore your mouth while his hands ran through your hair. The heated kiss stopped after a minute to slow gentle kisses while the two of you got your breaths back again. When you opened your eyes Remington had his forehead pressed against yours, looking into your eyes with such adoration and a passionate fire that would never go out. Wordlessly, you stood up, took his hand and walked to your bedroom.

Taglist: @sab-falco @fedorable-killjoys @levyasakura @smiling-girl (again thanks for the request!)

#asks #fanfic #remington leith #remington leith x reader #remington x reader #fluff #palaye royale #palaye royale fanfiction

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meat-wentz · 2 years

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i had the most fucked up mcr-induced stress dream that i had to attend one of my concerts at this amusement park and i’d bought this like really cumbersome squishmallow-esque plush toy and like while waiting for mcr to start, i noticed a man in like, a child’s costume obviously bought from the park and i froze because i was like motherfucker that’s frank and he waved at me by wagging his foot at me and i was like nononononononooo and he came over and started talking to me and i literally could not do anything except double over my large and super inconvenient squishmallow (which happened to be the same amusement park character that he was dressed as, it was like, an aqua and orange colored dog robot idk) and like bury my face in it until he left and like had to stay very still because i was just speechless like you motherfucker why would you say hi to me i hate you i know it’s you despite your dog robot costume i could tell you anywhere any day of the week. so with my face filled with shame it was then announced that i was the winner of an exclusive fan vip contest where i could go meet the rest of mcr and I was like okay yeah let’s double, no, triple the shame here because wow i really handled meeting frank super well why not meet the rest of them and then go fucking bury myself and my stupid soft toy in a 10 ft grave bc i really can’t be buried deep enough after this. anyways i hiked like a mile outside of the venue to go meet them and when i met them it was in the middle of a fucking river??? like i had to wade out to the middle of a river and awkwardly hug mikey and gerard and ray in freezing cold water and i was like huh this must be why you guys are always wet???? and well i got invited to view the concert with kristin in a private box and the thing is that she kept eating these little candies, like she was so nice, but she kept eating individually wrapped candies and the show was about to start and i was like oh my god all i can hear is crinkling so i was like okay im devoting my attention away from you kristin, but first do you want me to throw away your pile of little plastic wrapping bits for you? and she was like omg yes, and well my hands are full of these stupid little wrappers and im looking for a trash can but they all have flip lids and THE TOPS ARE FUCKING STACKED WITH LIKE OLD PIZZA BOXES AND STUFF SO EVERY TIME I TRY TO FLIP A LID THE PIZZA BOXES FALL TO THE GROUND. and like there’s three trash cans this happens with and i am so distressed because im going to fucking miss the show because i was trying to be polite but now im making so much fucking noise with these damn pizza boxes, embarrassing the fuck out of myself in front of mikey’s wife, and also she’s now eating loose popcorn off a table like it’s like a bag of popcorn spread out on a table instead of in a bowl and im like what the fuck is happening here and i finally find like an open storage bin that has what looks to be trash in there and i throw all the wrappings in and that’s when i wake up. btw that whole time im lugging around my ill-purchased fucking squishmallow dog who is now so soaking wet and heavy with water and gross because i had to meet mcr in the middle of a river.

#text #the stress dreams intensify #remember when they were just like ‘frank tweets a thing and i die’#well now they’re like ‘what if you met all of them and you didn’t die by boy howdy do you want to’

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish.

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything.

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge.

“Yes, darling?”

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.”

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected.

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself.

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?”

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day.

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them. “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment.

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive.

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands.

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him.

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.” He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.”

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting.

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too.

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his.

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured.

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin.

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly.

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste.

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him.

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed.

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?”

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind.

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place.

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers.

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully.

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage.

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.”

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him.

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty.

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer.

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.”

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw.

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips.

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach. Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation.

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you.

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep.

NextChapter

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #reader insert #smut #hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal x reader

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andysbubba · 3 years

Text

Loving you

Andy Barber x Gender neutral (?) reader

-> the one where you’re tired of andy’s igorance towards himself

Note: Angst diffusing into fluff, the typical andy-kitchen scene i used in my candlelight loving fic— except there’s no smut, ++ feedbacks welcomed as always! and reblogs and likes are more than appreciated <33

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Andy, baby. Will you please take a break?” You exasperatedly sigh when you see Andy still hovering over his desk in his study after the fifth time you told him to take some time to rest.

“I know, I know. Just a little more, honey. I’ll join you in bed in a bit, okay?” He only looked up at you for barely a second to reply before his eyes were back on the stacks of case studies and folders on his desk.

Truth be told, you were completely done with his bullshit.

You huff in frustration, rolling your eyes the slightest bit and muttering to yourself as you distanced yourself from Andy’s home office with full annoyance. “Fucking lawyers.”

Andy’s been fully hung up on work ever since one of his co-workers took a vacation off work just last week. Meaning that his already-extensive workload just got an upgrade. Also meaning that he’d drag his workload home and continue working his ass off in his study. Which really- there’s nothing wrong with your boyfriend being all diligent and assiduous.

But it really doesn’t seem all that glorifying when you’re the one having to deal with all his crap. You could’ve probably list down all the times he put fucking paperwork above you, and the list would probably have been as long as Article 1.

Unbeknownst to you, Andy caught onto what you said right before you left his study. He felt guilty, alright. All he’s done is to be a complete work-addict while you’re out there being the best lover one can ever ask for. And all he wants to do is to chase after you and apologize and stay in bed and order in pizza with you. But the never ending workload on his desk was the one thing keeping him away from having you all snug in his chest.

He shakes his head, eyes glancing back down at his work. He was beyond exhausted, the pot of coffee you made him and the hope that the earlier he wraps his work up, the earlier he can shower you with all the love you deserved, was his only motivation to keep reading though the files and trying to get as much work done.

You groggily rubbed your eyes as you tried to feel around the sheets for Andy. And honestly? You weren’t even surprised that he wasn’t there. It was 7 in the morning, and it was too early for Andy to be up if he actually went to sleep last night. You could only assume that he never even went to bed, no matter how much you wished otherwise.

You head out to his study, the door’s still opened as it was yesterday and the faint noise of keyboard clicking tells you that Andy’s still working inside.

“Babe?” You knocked on the wooden door, trying to get his attention.

Andy’s hunched in his seat, eyes switching between his laptop and the files from time to time as he typed. He glances up at you, just a little surprised.

“Did you get some sleep, honey?” You asked, even though you knew you’d only receive the answer you dreaded so much.

He glances at the digital clock on the wall, only realising that it’s been 6 hours since you last came in to check on him. He scratches the back of his neck as he shook his head and mentally cursed himself. “I—”

He considered lying, but he already felt as bad for leaving you to sleep alone the whole night and breaking his promise on joining you in bed. And knowing you, you’d probably see right through his lies anyway.

You sigh, shaking your head and disappointedly rubbing your face. “I swear to god, Andrew—” You turned away before you could allow yourself to get even more pissed at him. Which most probably would’ve been impossible.

Caffeine. God— caffeine sounds fucking amazing right now.

Andy’s beyond guilty. So much more than what he felt yesterday. And his heart burns when he sees you so disappointed and pissed at him. The kind of pain where it feels like it’s being crushed and squashed.

He didn’t even realise that he went a whole night of work without sleep. Nor did he realise the time. Or that he forgot to keep his promise to join you in bed. Or the fact that he never paid attention to you for more than 5 minutes in the last 10 hours. Or that he didn’t join you for dinner. Or— okay, the list is long alright. And Andy knows he’s hurt you- the one person who’s patient enough to deal with him and the one person he loves above anything else in the goddamn world.

He ditched his laptop and stood up. Stretching his legs and working out the kinks in his muscles.

Andy trailed behind your footsteps, leaving his study for the first time in almost a day. It really took you to be angry at him just to get him out of the study. Andy knows his sorry isn’t enough. And you truly deserved every right to be pissed at him.

You were sorting your morning tea out when he came into the kitchen. Andy couldn’t help but smile fondly at you- or rather, your back really. For goodness sake, Andy’s head over heels in love with you. With every inch of you from head to toe. It is truly indescribable.

He steps up behind you, arms wrapping around your shoulders, and his chin resting on the tiny area joining your shoulder and your neck.

“Hi, baby,” He pressed a soft kiss on where his chin was before.

He wasn’t surprised that you stayed silent and continued doing your own thing. He knows damn well he deserves the silent treatment, alright.

“Honey,” He trails off as his thumbs rubbed circles on both sides of your shoulder. “Talk to me please, baby.”

You let out a heavy sigh, unwilling to turn and look at him, but you knew stirring tea wasn’t enough to occupy the next 3 minutes of your life, let alone the next few hours.

Andy turns you around by your shoulders, one hand shifting your mug to the side so he doesn’t accidentally mess up more and end up spilling hot tea all over you. He picks you up by your sides and sets you down softly on the counter.

His head was around your chest level now. As much as Andy wanted to bury his head in your chest and stay there forever, he knows he has to say something because you definitely won’t say it first. He takes your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing your knuckles, his pretty blue eyes staring up at you the whole time.

One look and you know he’s sorry. His watery eyes bring you to that conclusion.

“I’m sorry, honey.” He sighs, guiltily holding your palm up to the side of his face. “I know I hurt you. I was just so focused on the case that I didn’t even realise I hurt you, baby. You deserve all the right to be mad at me and ignore me and- fuck. I really messed up, Y/n.”

Andy shakes his head, “I just thought that if I wrapped up all my work, I’d have more time with you.” He chuckles humourlessly. “I know what I did was wrong, baby. You gave me more than enough chances yesterday but I messed up every one and I left you.”

He glances into your eyes desperately, his hand gripping onto your palm on his cheek tightly. You know it’s a silent plea for you to respond and do that thing he loves about your touch.

You find yourself surrendering to his silent plea, and your thumb brushed the side of his face. Soft and repeatedly. The comfort it brought Andy was beyond words. He leaned into your palm, seeking more of your touch.

“You’ve been nothing but understanding and caring and I just kept on taking advantage of that.” Andy was grateful he had someone as amazing as you. “ I’m so sorry I hurt you, honey. I know I j- just completely left you alone— and shit, you don’t deserve that, my love.” The crack in his voice broke your resolve.

You breathed deeply, bringing your other palm up to the other side of his face. “Baby, you really don’t get it, do you?” You paused, searching his eyes before realising that Andy didn’t truly understand why you were upset in the first place. “Andy, everytime I came up to check on you— that was for you. I wanted you to get some rest, honey. You looked exhausted every single time I came in, and I hated that you just ignored your own health.”

“You skipped dinner, bub.” Your hands shifts down to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. “All this overworking and sleepless nights— I just wish you’d take care of yourself more, Andy.”

Andy sighs, hands shifting down to your hips and he leans in, burying his head in the middle of your chest.

You felt his lips moving against your his shirt as he murmured. “I know, ‘m sorry.” Andy inhaled deeply, your natural, comforting scent piercing through his nose. “I missed you, bubba,”

You run a hand through his hair. “I missed you too, love.” You lean down and kissed the top of his head. “You wanna go wash up or get some rest while I heat up yesterday’s dinner?”

“Wanna stay just like this.” He mumbled into the fabric of your his shirt.

You laughed heartily, “Go nap on the couch, Barbie.” He pulls away from your chest. “Or at least, please go brush your teeth. I’ll fix up somethin’ for you.”

“And sleep with me after?” He arched a brow, and you took the time to scan over Andy’s face. He looks so fucking exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes and the barely noticeable strands of gray hair among the luscious black is a simple message that he was stressed. And god, you wanted nothing more than to take care of him and make sure he’s all healthy and— lord.

“Anything you want, baby. As long as you don’t step foot in the study till tomorrow afternoon.” You pressed your forehead against his, lips touching into an easy kiss.

You were both exhausted— Andy with his lack of sleep and you having to worry over him almost every 45 minutes. You both needed the rest. And some time together where it’s just the two of you and no one else exists.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #cevans #cevans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #andy barber #andy barber angst #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader #andy barber x male reader #chris evans x male reader #gay andy barber

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

(I love all of your writings) one of Scout's voice lines literally broke my heart. The one in the Birthday mode which said that no one came to his birthday :"((( the fact that he called everyone his best friends make it sadder. Can you write about that a little bit. I know that you have written about his birthday before but can you do one more pleaseeeeeee

birthday boy time

(warnings for alcohol mention, mention of violence, and injury)

“Happy birthday, lad,” Demo greeted, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. Scout lit up, calling back a greeting in return.

Call him a sap, but he hadn’t quite given up on having fun birthdays yet. He’d heard it a hundred times from most of the rest of the team, that you stop focusing so much on your birthday when you get older, but not this guy. Scout was determined to actually have a nice birthday.

That being said, he knew by then, after those first few years working with the team, that they had a bit of a history of not necessarily being 100% on board with doing a whole thing purely because someone was a year older, and he mostly settled for bugging some of the team into going out for drinks or ordering a bunch of pizza and playing board games, stuff like that. A hundred times more low-key than what he’d do if they were in Boston, but hey, he took what he could get, and it usually ruled anyways.

To be honest, he didn’t even really have plans that year. He’d said as much when he was asked earlier that week. It was the middle of the week, not all that close to the weekend, so going out with everyone was pretty much off the table, as was getting drunk considering they all had work the day after. He was gonna head into town and get himself a gift, that was most of his plan, maybe hang out with everyone later on too. He’d been saving his money for a while, a just-in-case fund that he’d been working on for a few years, a luxury he didn’t have growing up, and didn’t tend to spend much money on himself outside of snack food and Bonk and sometimes comic books or little things like that. It would be nice to get himself something he really liked. That alone was plenty of excitement. Not an adrenaline kind, just a regular, nice sort of thing.

Overall, he was honestly just thrilled that apparently everyone actually remembered this year, greeted all morning by similar casual “hey, happy birthday”s, including a particularly excited one from Pyro, who hugged him and spun him in a few circles outright. He had plenty of time next year to do some really sick birthday stuff, but overall, he was just gonna chill out, treat himself for once, and relax.

“Alright everyone,” the Engineer said grimly, half an hour previously, casting a look around the room. “Here’s the plan.”

The team minus their fastest member were all gathered around the debriefing table, and this time, rather than Miss Pauling with official orders or Soldier with the latest new strategy, it was the Engineer standing up front holding a piece of chalk.

“We’ve been over this, Toymaker, twice weekly all month,” Demo drawled, rolling his eye.

“I know that, but this is important,” he stressed.

“It is true,” Heavy rumbled, nodding solemnly. “This is big deal.”

“We can’t afford to let this one get mucked up considering our history,” the Engineer said firmly. “Every year it’s somethin’. This year we aren’t taking any chances, especially after that catastrophe last year.”

A groan from the team as they collectively remembered. A nod from the Engineer.

“We’re lucky Firebug was the one to ask why Scout was in the kitchen combing the cabinets and not one of us, otherwise he would’ve found out for sure. If he knew we all forgot his birthday, it would crush him,” he said emphatically. The team looked embarrassed as a whole, while Pyro looked particularly mortified. “And we can’t just buy the damn kid a few pizzas and hand him alcohol like that was the plan again this year.”

“Fortunately for all of you, I’ve been so generous as to look into a few things,” Spy piped in, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette.

“As if you won’t take any excuse to snoop,” Sniper mumbled, and was glared at.

“I resent that remark,” Spy scoffed. “Regardless. I happen to know that we’re in luck, and that Scout is planning to go into town for a short period of time this afternoon. For what purpose, I’m not sure. But it should mean we have plenty of time to set everything up.”

“I trust you all have gifts ready?” Medic asked, and received a general murmur of agreement, and made a check on the paper he had attached to a clipboard. “Ja, ja, that is good. Herr Demoman, Pyro, you are done with your baking?”

“Cake is baked, iced, and decorated,” Demo nodded, Pyro giving a thumbs up of agreement.

“Soldier, how are decorations?”

“Acquired and prepared for deployment!” Soldier barked, holding up a hand in salute.

“Doc, Heavy, you two were meant to run interference,” the Engineer said, and the two nodded. “With that not a worry, how about you help with the cooking and decorating?”

“Heavy can do this,” Heavy agreed, and Medic nodded as well, jotting down a few notes on his clipboard.

“And the snake was gonna help with anything that went wrong, and Sniper, you were gonna help with headed into town for anything we needed last minute,” the Engineer said, and received nods from the two of them.

“Do we need anything so far?” Sniper asked.

“No, we’re fine for now. And I’ve got my own setup handled,” the Engineer said, and nodded a few times to himself. “Alright. Sounds like we’re golden.”

“Ja, very good. Herr Spy, would you keep an eye on Scout and let the rest of us know when we can begin getting ready?” Medic asked.

“Obviously,” Spy said.

“Alright. Now go on, get, he’ll be wondering why we’re all running late, act natural,” the Engineer said, shooing them all from the conference room.

Later that day after battle was over, Spy dispersed news not long later that Scout had gotten changed into civvie clothes and gone into town on his bike, and they all leapt into action. Within half an hour, the decorations were ready, streamers and balloons in every direction, the table unfolded from their storage (only used when they needed to seat the entire team, which wasn’t often) and was set up with the cake, ready to have candles lit, the presents were stacked neatly, the Engineer had set up the new sound system he’d been working on (put into crunch time to have ready for the occasion), everything was set up and perfect. The only thing they still needed was Scout.

They settled in to wait, knowing town was a good twenty minutes away, thirty if he was headed to the better one. By the time he found everyone, Spy said that it had been about ten minutes, and they took around thirty to set everything up, meaning that Scout would probably be at least another ten minutes, maybe as much as half an hour. Spy would keep his eyes open and warn them when he came back, but in the meantime, they could relax while they waited.

In the meantime, Soldier and Demo attempted a few ‘finishing touches’ (putting party hats on his more docile raccoons and setting out some firecrackers and sparklers, respectively), and some of the other members of the team sat to play cards for a bit. Pyro, easily the most antsy, burned their way through the box of matches that sat waiting next to the cake one by one and started idly playing with their lighter when they ran out, occasionally lighting some of the extra candles.

Half an hour came and went. Forty minutes. Fifty. An hour.

They asked Spy if he had any word yet. The answer was no, and the visual of a few cigarette butts littered around Spy’s feet and a scowl.

The Engineer played a few song requests on the sound system. Soldier switched around party hats on the raccoons to better suit their personalities. Demo lit a sparkler and let it burn out. They switched card games.

At the two hour mark, the concern was starting to build in all of them. Maybe Scout went even further than any of them had expected. He hadn’t told any of them to wait up for him, to be fair. But he always told them outright if he wouldn’t be back for supper, and he hadn’t said anything, and should’ve been back by then. It was getting well into sundown.

“I am preparing to declare Scout as officially AWOL,” Soldier mumbled somewhere near the two/and-a-half hour mark, just a bit angrily, adjusting the party hat on Corporal Munch where it was crooked. Demo patted him on the shoulder to console him.

“He’ll get here when he gets here,” he assured, going back to fiddling with a party popper.

“Don’t waste those,” the Engineer warned. “And no queens, Go Fish.”

A groan from Medic. Demo shrugged. “We have some extra. Here, just to liven her up.”

He tugged the string on the popper, setting it off and sending a short shower of confetti onto Soldier, and that was where it all went wrong.

Corporal Munch, startled, made a little yelp-like noise and quickly clawed up Soldier’s chest, startled and attempting to escape. Soldier tried to grab on harder, but that just made the raccoon even more alarmed, and it rushed to clamor faster, digging claws in hard. Heads turned in time to see Soldier losing his grip and the animal rushing away towards the nearest enclosed, dim space, which just so happened to be the table Pyro was sitting at with the cake.

Pyro leapt up from their seat, battle instincts kicking in for a moment, and the movement startled the Corporal, who veered suddenly and crashed directly into one of the chairs, toppling it and the one directly next to it and making the entire table jerk.

Pyro, panicked, quickly grabbed the cake stand before it could fall over, dropping their lighter and the candle in their hand. The two things landed on the tablecloth, and by the time Pyro realized their mistake, they’d already lit the thin paper tablecloth on fire.

Shouting around the room as teammates attempted to leap into action, Pyro trying to save the cake from the fire first and foremost, Soldier attempting to catch the Corporal, who was only becoming more freaked out over time. Heavy moved to snatch up some of the other flammable items off of the table, but misjudged where Pyro was moving, and Pyro collided with him, the cake tumbling from the stand and directly across the both of them. The Corporal, entirely confused on the commotion, attempted to claw into the space under the cards table, making Medic yelp as his legs were torn into, Sniper rushing to try and catch the animal as well. Demo, having found the fire extinguisher, realized he was a bit late as he tried to put out the table, most of the tablecloth gone and the fire having spread across the streamers, and he tried to put out what he could, and it was only with the Engineer’s cry of dismay that he remembered, oh, right, those streamers were on top of that shiny new sound system, weren’t they. With a final puff, the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign went up in flames and was gone, and the team was left there in the wreckage.

Spy rounded the corner into the room, eyebrows furrowed from the commotion he’d heard. When he saw the smoking, foamy, cake-y remains, all he could do was sigh, kneading at the bridge of his nose. “Something new every year, is it?” he drawled.

It took them the better part of forty minutes to clean up the mess, and even then, the room had a weird smell to it. By the end of everything, all they had was one of the undecorated practice cakes Pyro had baked, some party hats, and some poppers. And by the time they were done cleaning up, Scout still hadn’t returned.

“At least he doesn’t have to see what a damn mess we made of things,” the Engineer sighed, and that seemed to be the consensus.

It was much later that Spy finally let them know that he’d seen the headlights of a motorcycle coming up the road, and the team just sighed, too tired to work up much energy. Some of them at least planned to call out a ‘happy birthday’ at him, but all they could do was stare when he walked into the room.

“Hey, guys,” Scout croaked, attempting a smile through a bruised lip.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sniper demanded, taking in the sight.

Scout was busted up in a number of different ways. What looked like a former bloody nose and a swollen lip seemed to be the worst of it, an amount of blood all down Scout’s front, staining what looked like one of his nicer civvie shirts beyond repair. There was also a dampness to his shirt and hair and a stain that implied he’d been splashed with something, practically drenched by the look of it, and he carried himself just slightly off-balance and held a bag in the arm not cradled to his abdomen.

Despite that, he managed a laugh, a lopsided grin. “Man, what the hell didn’t happen to me is more like it,” he said, shrugging. “Had a weird one.”

“Are you alright?” Medic demanded, already standing up, from his chair, and Scout shrugged again.

“Just bruises and all, it’s not an emergency or whatever, but I’d appreciate a heal or somethin’,” he admitted, and Medic left the room, hurrying towards the infirmary. “Forreal, though, what a fuckin’ night.”

“What’s on your shirt?” Spy asked, entirely deadpan, looking vaguely disgusted.

“Uh, I think it’s a margarita?” Scout said, glancing down at it and picking at his shirt vaguely. “I, uh, I should start from the top. Okay, so I went into town, right? I was just gonna buy some stuff real quick, and I got, uh… I got a little lost.”

“A little? Scooter, you’ve been gone all day!” the Engineer admonished.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. There was construction on the usual road, I think they’re fixin’ a bridge or somethin’. Anyways, I got pretty far off track, but I got to town eventually. Just took a while. Anyways, I do my shopping, but because I was all rattled from havin’ to take a hundred detours I totally forget that there’s this one guy at the store that hates my guts, and I’ve gotta split pretty fast before he knocks some teeth out, y’know?”

“Do we want to know why he hates you?” Demo asked, a bit of humor in his tone.

“Nope,” Scout said simply, grinning right back. “So, yeah, but on my way into town I saw at the bar they have some kinda thing goin’ on, right, some kinda weird drink special. So I figure, hey, I’ll walk in, get the new drink, then I’ll leave, y’know? I don’t wanna have to drive home after dark and drunk. So I order, and as soon as I order some guy who’s been at the bar too long already starts tryin’ to pick a fight with me, right? And it’s a whole thing, and I finally get my drink but now there’s a whole thing, and I kinda make this offhanded comment at this gal nearby, y’know, tryin’ to make sure he knows we’re in a public place, all ‘hey, you’re really gonna embarrass yourself by pick in’ fights right in front of this real pretty girl?’, right?”

“Oh no,” Sniper sighed, already seeing where this was going.

“Well, yeah, bad luck, turns out that’s his girlfriend, and he shoves me into some guy, and I get a whole drink all over me, and mine is all over some third gut, and this whole brawl breaks out—anyways, busted lip and no drink and I’m probably not allowed in that bar anymore, but whatever, I finally start headed home.”

“Right,” Spy said, suspicious.

“And, uh, I never wanna drive at night because there’s all these animals out here, right? And the roads are shitty. And I’m headed back, and it’s dark as dicks, and I think I see this rock and I try and go around it, but then the rock moves back in my way because it’s a lizard or whatever and I hit the breaks and swerve straight into a pothole and just barely manage to keep on my bike, but I donk myself on the handlebars and totally throw my leg out of wack and all that. And, uh, and now I’m here.”

“Christ alive,” the Engineer marvelled.

“Bad day to have,” Heavy said, also stunned.

“Hey, it’ll be a funny story to tell later,” Scout shrugged, still grinning. “Got those new shoes at least, though.”

He pulled a shoebox out of the paper bag, and the box was dented into some kind of new parallelogram, barely resembling its past shape. Scout, meanwhile, was still smiling.

Silence in the room. “Well. While it is unlikely you need any more excitement today,” Spy trailed hesitantly. Pyro, understanding the cue, leapt up and hurried off into the kitchen, coming back with the cake.

“Woah, seriously?” Scout asked, eyes lighting up. “You made me a cake? Mumbles, you’re the best!”

“We, uh… we had more planned, but, some things went a little wrong,” the Engineer admitted, and trailed off as well as he looked at Scout.

“Not that we get to complain,” Demo laughed, seeming to come to the same realization as the Engineer.

“Are you joking? This rules!” Scout said, and lit up further when Medic returned with his Medigun, shaking off his injuries within a few moments. “Hey, thanks guys, seriously, no idea what I did to get such cool teammates. You guys are awesome, I mean it.”

“Dunno how we got a bloke like you, either,” Sniper shrugged, voice quiet compared to the rest of them. “Not many people can laugh after a day like yours and still have the energy to be pleased with anyone.”

“Aw, hey, I mean… y’know, it’s nothing,” Scout shrugged sheepishly, glancing away for a second. “Hey, you guys are playin’ cards? Deal me in! Oh yeah, hold on, we need plates and stuff for cake—“

He dropped his bag near the door and hurried into the kitchen. The room was quiet behind him. Demo held up a party popper, glancing around the room. The Engineer took it from him, shaking his head.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #que?#my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks

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whiskery-louis · 3 years

Text

Game Night

** Hi everyone here is my first imagine in a while and it is pretty long and there will be a part 2!

Synopsis: Luke and you broke up 6 months ago. Ashton invites you over for game night.

Luke Hemmings x reader

Warnings: None

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!!

*not my photo*

“Come on Y/N you have to come see us! We’re traveling across the country just to see you!” Ashton whined through the phone.

“Well I didn’t ask you too Ash. I can’t risk seeing him-”

“He’s not coming, he’s staying here with her. Hell I don’t even think he knows we left.”

You sighed, “Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Me and Mikey,” you could hear the smile in his voice. You had always been the closest to him and Michael. Not that you and Calum weren’t close, it was just different.

“What about Cal?” you asked.

“He’s staying back so you know who doesn’t get suspicious about the three of us all leaving for a weekend.”

“I don’t know Ash,” you sighed again. “I have work and stuff. Plus I was supposed to see the twins this weekend, and I wanted to go to Target…” you trailed off as you rattled on with excuses.

“Oh please, you know you miss us just as much as we miss you. It’s been six months Y/N, just come hangout for the night. I promise it’s not gonna be anything big. Just you, me, Mike and Crystal. We’ll just do pizza and play some games. Please Y/N, we’re already at the airport and if you don’t come willingly we got your new address from Lacey.”

You mentally cursed your best friend, she knew you specifically didn’t give any of them your new address for this very reason. You were out of excuses and you could hear Ashton’s smirk through the phone. He had you cornered and he knew it.

“Fine. Text me your Airbnb info and I’ll come over tomorrow when I’m done work. But you better be getting the good pizza, and there better be drinks.”

“Yes she’s in!” you heard Mikey yell in the background. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face.

“Bye boys, safe flight.”

You hung up the phone and put your head in your hands. While part of you was very excited to see Ashton and Michael again there was still a part of you that was worried. There was too much history between you and him so of course they all knew about it. They tried not to take sides during the break up but everyone knew he had Calum and you had the other two. It was part of the reason that you had moved back home instead of trying to find a place to stay in L.A.. You could feel the tension that was building between the four of them and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin their friendships or their band. It was all way more important than you.

You hadn’t really spoken to any of them much other than the casual ‘how are you’ texts here and there. But from him it had been radio silence for six months. Now here you were, five minute after speaking with Ashton and you were already more stressed than you’d be in week. What did you get yourself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearing 6:15 and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull up to the house, you had been circling the block for almost 20 minutes and every time you were about to stop you told yourself one more lap. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you, you knew it was only Ash, Mike and Crystal and yet just the thought of being around his friends was enough to make you sick.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, finally pulling into the drive. You grabbed your bag, and although you hated to admit it, you were excited to see your old friends.

You walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood you could hear yelling and footsteps running up to the door.

“Y/N!!!” Ashton yelled engulfing you in a massive hug.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oi sorry, I’ve just missed you lots.”

“I missed you too.” you grinned at him, wondering what you had been worried about all day. It felt like no time had passed.

“Well let her in the door man,” Michael spoke up from behind.

You smiled as you entered the house and walked over to Mikey hugging him hard.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered as he let you back.

“Well yeah, that kinda happens when there’s a global pandemic and I move across the county.”

You could tell Michael was going to tell you off for moving but Crystal came in the room then and thankfully saved you from talking about him.

She wrapped her arms around you giving you a quick hug, “It’s so good to see you, I’m glad you made it!”

“Me too, though if I didn’t come willingly I knew you’d show up on my doorstep.”

“You got that right,” she laughed, “It took all my energy to keep them in the house all day.”

“Well I appreciate it, I had a lot of work to get through today figuring I’ll still be hungover on Monday from this weekend.”

It was fitting that as soon as I mentioned being hungover we walked into the kitchen to a full stocked bar.

“Man I forgot you guys really go all out for game nights,” you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the fond memories.

“Okay so what game are we playing first?” Ashton asked as he handed you a drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later and you really didn’t understand why you were so nervous to come. It was one of the best feelings catching up with your old friends and thankfully they didn’t bring him up once. You were in the middle of an intense game of charades, Crystal and you were kicking the boys asses.

“Alright do you guys want to give up yet? You’re never going to beat us so why not save yourselves the embarrassment.”

They both looked annoyed at how the game was progressing, “Well maybe if Mike could draw anything other than stick figures we would’ve stood a chance.” Ashton grumbled.

“And now you see why I always make sure someone else gets stuck with him,” Crystal laughed as she dodged the pen Michael threw at her.

You all laughed as you cleaned up and you went over to the stack of games, contemplating what you wanted to play next. You guys had made your way through a few different games and a few rounds of drinks and honestly you were exhausted. Since moving back home you didn’t hang out with many people other than Lacey and you forgot how much energy it took to be around people. You were tired but it was the best kind of tired.

“Can we just watch a movie now? I’m tired of losing,” MIchael whined from the couch.

“That’s exactly what a sore loser would say,” you shot back.

Michael just smiled and shrugged his shoulders looking at you, “At least I know it, but I so call picking the movie.” He picked up the remote and started searching through Netflix looking for a good comedy that everyone would watch.

“Anyone up for another round?” Ashton asked and you nodded following him into the kitchen to help. It was silent as he rummaged through the alcohol looking for something new to drink. You hopped up on the counter waiting to see what he would make.

“So how have you really been?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, startly by his question and you could see him looking at you intently and knew exactly what he was talking about, or more so who he was talking about.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated what to tell him. “I’ve been fine.” you answered shortly.

He scoffed at your answer, “Come on Y/N, I know you better than that and as relaxed as you seem, there is still a part of you that is on edge. You ghosted us all when you left and it was like we lost a member of our family. So tell me the truth, how are you really?”

His answer startled you, and you blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Ash I really don’t wanna ruin the night and talk about him. Can we just table it for now and go back in there with Mike and Crystal. I really don't wanna bring the mood down.” You stared back at him and there must’ve been something in your eyes because he dropped it. He handed you a drink and the two of you went back into the other room.

“Hey what were you two talking about?” Crystal asked as you sat next to her on the couch, a knowing look in her eye.

You elbowed her subtly, “Debating if Mikey was gonna pick a shitty movie or not,” you laughed.

“Don’t hate until you see it, it’s a good one you all like.” He pointed to the TV and you saw Shrek was on. “Also you could say thank you I ordered a pizza and it should be here in about 30 minutes.”

“Didn’t you just eat a plate of buffalo chicken dip and mac’n’cheese?”

He shrugged, “If it’s a problem Y/N then you can’t have any.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

You held your hands up in defense “No, no. Just asking, I’m for sure eating that pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael replied smugly.

You just rolled your eyes at him and sat back to begin the movie. Not even 10 minutes later and there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N since you were so judgy you can go answer the door.”

“Fine, fine. Though you suck at telling time Mikey, this was way less than 30 minutes.”

You got up from the couch and made your way to the door excited that the pizza was here much earlier than anticipated. There was another knock on the door as you were opening it. You froze when you saw who was there.

Luke.

He must not have been expecting you either because he had a dumbfounded look on his face, and his fist was frozen in mid knock.

“Y/N?” he breathed, his eyes boring into yours.

It was silent and you both just stood there and stared at each other. It had been six months since you had seen him and although there were some noticeable changes he was still the same Luke who broke your heart all those months ago. His arms were larger and his shoulders slightly broader. His hair was longer, his roots growing out which somehow suited him more. He had shaved his quarantine beard but the stubble was growing back. His eyes were the same blue that you fell in love with, but they were missing the usual mischievous glint.

“Luke why are you just-” Calum was caught off walking up behind Luke, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? It’s so good to see you!” He squeezed past Luke and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You had no words as you hugged Cal back, you were still in shock at them being here and you couldn’t take your eyes off Luke,

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ashton came around the corner and froze when he saw the new additions to the party. “Oh you guys are early…” he trailed off.

At his statement you felt the rage building in your veins, you pushed Calum off of you turning to Ashton the anger seeping out of you. “I’m sorry what? They’re what Ashton?”

He looked sheepishly at you, “Surprise?” he shrugged his shoulders, with a slight smile on his face.

You couldn’t believe this. It was all a setup. The whole night was a trick for you to see him again when Ashton knew more than anything that it was the last thing you wanted. You were at a loss for words, as much as you wanted to yell, you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Look we can explain…”

You held your hand up cutting him off, “Don’t Ashton, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I’m leaving.”

You stormed into the other room, to get you things. MIchael was trying to look busy but the guilt was written all over his face. Crystal was sitting next to him with her arms crossed glaring at her fiance, she looked up when you walked in.

“I am so sorry Y/N, I had no idea or I would’ve never let them pull this stunt.”

You gave her a weak smile, “I’m just going to get my things and go.”

Michael turned and looked like he was going to say something, but one look from Crystal silenced him.

“Thanks for the fun while it lasted, but please don’t reach out again,” you heard footsteps behind you and knew the others had followed you into the room. “I thought maybe I could be friends with some of you,” you pointedly looked at Luke, “But if this is the shit you are going to pull them I am out. I’m sorry but I cannot go through this again. I just can’t.”

With that you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the house. As you sat in your car you were thankful that you didn’t have too much to drink and were able to drive yourself home. The thirty minute drive seemed to take forever. All you wanted was your bed and to be distracted by Netflix. After what felt like an eternity you pulled into your driveway and walked into your house. You threw your bag on the table and couldn't believe the night you had. You knew Ashton and Michael had wanted you to talk to Luke when you first broke up, but that was six months ago. You never thought that they would pull this shit tonight. It was almost more painful this time as you realized you had to cut all of them out of your life and not just Luke.

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight and it really messed you up. You had spent the last six month erasing him from your life, as much as you could. You put everything he gave you into a box that was hidden in your basement. You tried to throw it away but it felt wrong somehow. He was too big a part of your life to completely get rid of. Lacey once asked you why you didn’t get rid of it all and you knew she thought it meant you still loved him but that wasn’t it. You just couldn’t bear to part with everything that had once brought you so much happiness. You hadn’t opened the box since you moved back home, as you went downstairs to bring it to the kitchen, you knew it was going to hurt more after seeing him tonight, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You spent over an hour looking through all the memories the two of you had made during your time together and you were a mess sitting on the floor with tears rolling down your face. Maybe it was from the exhaustion that raked your body or the alcohol that was still in your system but you left the contents of the box sprawled over the island and slipped on his old Nirvana shirt before going to your bed and finally falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing you knew you were being jolted awake by a banging on your door. You looked at the clock and groaned when you saw it was only 8:00am. Who the hell would be here so early. Hoping it was just a package you rolled back over and tried to fall back asleep, when the person knocked again.

You signed as you rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs in nothing but the old shirt you fell asleep in. Rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, you opened the door and had to squint to see who was there.

“Y/N, you uh forgot your phone and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

You hated that your heart skipped a beat as your name rolled off his lips, your eyes focused on him and the events of last night came back to you instantly.

“Luke.”

#luke imagine #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5sos #5sos imagine #ashton imagine #michael imagine #mikey #cal #calum imagine #luke hemmings preference

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doublekrecs · 4 years

Text

More Than Physics

Spencer Reid x reader

Synopsis: you notice your ta in the library and ask him for a lesson in physics to which you pay him back with pizza and a lesson in sex

Warnings: smut (no p in v action), oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation

a/n: sorry this took so long, it’s been quite a week. but i'm thinking of making this a series depending on if you like it. anyways, i hope enjoy my angels! -🧞‍♀️

also thank you guys for 400 followers!! the love means everything to us:)

part 2

They always say life just blows right past you. Which you used to think was a load of bullshit, but now on your last year of college you’re sitting in the library on the verge of tears over your physics class, reminiscing on a time long ago when freshman year you was most likely at some frat party grinding up on some beefy blond named Steve.

You let out a loud sigh, looking around to make sure you weren’t disrupting anyone. You weren’t. The library was almost completely empty, besides just you there was a small group of people actively note taking with highlighters scattered around the table and the biggest cups of what you assumed to be coffee. Looking over to your left you saw an oddly familiar mop of curly brown hair nose deep in a thick book. Wait it was Spencer.

He was the TA for your physics class, always enthusiastic and ready to help anyone. You honestly thought he was just happy anyone was willing to listen to his rambles. From what you’ve seen he was humble for being such a genius and seemed like a really sweet guy. Always flashing you a kind smile and opening doors for anyone around him.

Which is why you felt a sense of relief wash over you when you saw him. You had been struggling with this unit in class and no method of studying had been helping you retain knowledge. So what better way to get help than from the resident genius himself.

You packed your stuff and made your way over to the table he set camp at. Loads of novels you couldn’t imagine yourself reading sat in stacks next to him. You tapped him on the shoulder to which he flinched after being taken out of the fantasy world he was immersed in. Looking up he offered you the same kind smile as always before whispering, “Oh hi y/n.”

“Hey Spencer” you smiled back.

He moved a stack of books off of the chair next to his offering you a place to sit. You set your stuff down and his eyes went to the physics book in front of you.

“How's the studying going?” he asked, putting his full attention on you. One thing about him you always admired was the way he really listened to people. No matter who it was he always made people feel heard.

“Not so good” he frowned at the sad tone in your voice, “But I was hoping that a certain TA would be able to spare a fellow peer some help” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Of course, what do you need?”

You guys had spent the better part of two hours with him helping you set up notes and explaining certain topics to the best of his ability. You noticed him yawn and check his watch. “What time is it,” you asked, trying to suppress a yawn of your own.

“Just hit 11, the library closes in 30 minutes if you wanna stay and finish up,” he said, stretching his back out from sitting for so long.

“No, I think we’ve done enough work for today.” You both started to pack your stuff up, making small talk as you walked out of the building.

“Hey Spence,” he stopped walking and turned to look at you, “I really wanna thank you for all your help today. Is there any way I can repay you for this? OH! I can take you to dinner, we can go to the little pizza place around the corner. It's on me,” you offered nodding with a wide smile.

He smiled back at your enthusiasm, “You really don’t have to thank me, I'm glad I was able to help. But I won’t say no to a slice of pizza.”

You led him to the little spot off campus, which he of course opened the door for you. The waiter took you to a little booth where you both ordered a soda before skimming the menu. The place was cute, very homey with warm lights and oldies playing softly in the back. There was a comfortable silence before the waiter came back and took your orders.

Spencer was very easy to talk to as he had knowledge on all topics. However you wanted to know more about him personally. So you suggested a game. Never have I ever. Yes it was childish but hey, all good friendships have to start somewhere.

“Ok I’ll start with an example and you put a finger down if you’ve done it.” he nodded taking a bite of his pizza. You took a second to think of where to begin, “Alright never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you stated and his eyes widened a little bit.

He shook his head no as you encouraged him to ask a question. “Um never have I ever failed a class.”

“Spence no,” he frowned. “This is supposed to be fun, ask risky questions c’mon don’t be shy,” you looked at him encouragingly, “what happens at the booth stays in the booth,” you said tapping on the table for emphasis.

He took your words to heart as he waited a while trying to come up with a question. “Alright, never have I ever had more than 4 partners.” you put a finger down and looked at him confused. “How many people have you dated?” he took a sip of his coke before replying, “just one.”

“Huh,” “What?”

“C’mon Spence you’re telling me a genius like you doesn’t have girls lined up around the corner” you said raising a suggestive eyebrow. He giggled and shook his head no looking down.

The game continued but keeping track of fingers was forgotten. Pizza was long gone and the bill was paid, now it was just you guys enjoying each others company. It was obvious Spencer was breaking out of his comfort zone as the questions kept on getting riskier. Which is how you got into the topic of sex. You had found out that apparently he had almost no experience in any of it.

“Y/n I just don’t see what the big deal is. I mean I do ya know.. get off, so what's the point,” he said playing with his napkin. You could tell he was a little embarrassed at the admission by the tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“The point is that sex is normal and fun and something you should be experiencing.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t wanna have one night with a stranger then be laughed at for being inexperienced.”

Suddenly a lightbulb appeared above your head.

“Spencer I have an idea. And please just hear me out,” he looked at you wearily before you continued, “let me tutor you in sex stuff.”

You swear he was gonna explode at how red he was, mouth gaping like a fish out of water trying to find words to respond.

“Listen, you spent the night helping me with something I struggle in. Let me help you with something you’re struggling in. And it could be fun, ya know just some stress relief and you get to learn some new skills.”

Spencer was taken back by your offer. He really wanted to accept, I mean come on it's not everyday a pretty girl just offers you to have sex with her. Let alone buy you pizza beforehand.

You might have looked collected on the outside, sipping on your dr.pepper, giving Spencer time to answer but on the inside you were a mess. What if you had pushed him too far. Why did you think it was a good idea to just offer up something like that. Your thoughts were cut off by a voice in front of you speaking up.

“Yeah.. Let's do it.” Now you were the one gaping like s fish. But you quickly recomposed yourself.

You looked at him with a devilish smile, reaching over the table to grab his hand. “Well then Spence, let’s go shall we?” He laced your fingers together as you got up, matching your smile.

In no time you were in your dorm after the brisk walk. Little conversation was made and you were starting to think maybe he was starting to regret agreeing. Unlocking the door you looked over at him nervously biting his pink lip, something you’d like to do. “You can just come in and we can watch a movie if you want. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.”

He looked over at you, big brown eyes gazing softly into yours, “I really wanna do this. Please.”

“Alright pretty boy make yourself comfortable we’ll start off easy.”

You guided him to sit on your couch as you sat next to him. There was a moment of silence where you both just looked from each other's eyes to lips longingly. Neither were sure who leaned in first but your lips met in the middle, calm at first before the storm. His hands went to grasp the sides of your face, pulling you further into him. You took the time to adjust and settle on his lap, one hand on his shoulder while the other nested in his hair, causing him to let a groan in your mouth when you tugged it slightly. You’d save that for another time.

The time came for you both to pull away for air. His forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath.

“As great as that was,” you said punctuating with a kiss. He tried to chase your lips as you pulled away to continue talking. “You can move your hands, I won’t break. Nowhere is out of bounds,” you said nodding encouragingly.

His hands were warm, moving down slowly to your hips. You leaned back in, this time the kisses were slower but held the same desire. Again his hands stayed in the same place so you put yours over his and guided them up and down. He gained some confidence after you let go, his hands now straying to your ass giving it a squeeze. You could feel the smile on his lips at the gasp you let out.

Making out soon led to desperate whimpers and a steady grind of trying to gain more friction. The feel of him hardening beneath you made you moan as the thin fabric of the leggings you were wearing did little to nothing to conceal it. You pulled away to start pressing wet kisses to his neck. You knew you had found his sweet spot under his ear when he shuddered. Your hand went down to palm him over his pants. Spencer jolted at the touch.

“Fuck y/n,” he let out as a soft sigh. You took the opportunity to unzip his pants. Looking into his auburn eyes for confirmation to keep going he gave a silent nod, prompting you to take him out of his pants. It was pretty and pink, already weeping with precum you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on. Wasting no time you used your thumb to swipe some off to use as lubricant to start pumping his shaft.

You went down to a spot between his knees, taking his hand in yours to set in your hair. He seemed to catch on quick as he pushed some out of your face to see your pretty eyes looking up at him while you sucked him off. Under his soft exterior, shockingly Spencer swore like a sailor. Letting out constant “shit you’re so good” or a long “fuck” under his breath.

You could tell he was getting close by the way you felt his cock throbbing. You stopped sucking, instead using your hand to keep stimulating him as you said, “It’s alright Spence you’re doing so good for me. Where do you wanna cum?” His eyes shifting down to your low cut v-neck said it all. You motioned for him to replace your hand with his own, quickly discarding the shirt leaving you in a pretty lacy bra. He was confused as to what you were doing when you started to pull off your leggings, but as your hand slipped down into your matching panties things started clicking.

You were already worked up from the heavy touching and listening to his groans that it was easy for you to slip a finger into your wet heat, letting out a moan at the feeling. His eyes kept on roaming all over your body. The sight of your chest heaving and the glistening between your thighs was enough to set him off.

You added another finger and matched the pace he was pumping himself at. Not taking your eyes off his hands, so big and veiny.

“Ah Spencer, I'm so close baby. Please cum with me,” you let out along with little whimpers. Hearing his name on your lips was his end as his orgasm washed over him. Ropes of his cum spilling over his palm. Your release came soon after, rubbing your clit, gasping at the tightness in your tummy bursting.

You both calmed down and met each other's gaze with a soft smile. Picking up your t-shirt you told him to stay put as you went to grab a towel for him to clean up. “So, not bad for our first ‘lesson’, you said walking back and sitting next to him.

His cheeks were tinted pink from seeing how exposed you were in front of him but he had the courage to respond, “Not bad at all. I can’t wait for what else you can show me.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #🧞‍♀️writes

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rachaelswrites · 3 years

Note

“Rough day?” and a group hug with the holland siblings

Normally, your days off from school were one of the least stressful days in your life. Unless of course your teachers assigned a ton of homework for you to do. You were falling behind in science so you had a lot of makeup work to do on top of all the new assignments your teacher gave you. It would for sure take up your whole day and probably the whole night as well.

All your brothers were also home all day. You would usually hang out with them but they hadn’t seen you since you came downstairs for breakfast and disappeared into your room. They figured you were just wanting some time to yourself but when you didn’t come down for lunch or for your usual afternoon back, they got a bit worried.

“She always eats at this time? Do you think something is wrong?” as asked.

“She would’ve told me,” Paddy said, “I’m her favorite.”

“Actually I am but I agree,” Tom said, “We should go check on her.”

“Well if something is wrong we all shouldn’t go in there. It might overwhelm her,” Harry mentioned.

“Okay I’ll go and check on her,” Tom said, already heading for the stairs. He reached your room and knocked on the door. He heard you angrily groan and say a few curse words so he opened the door to see what was happening, “Y/n/n, are you alright?”

You looked up from the stack of papers, tears starting to spill out. All you did was shake your head and burry your face in your arms. Tom walked over to you and crouched down in front of you, “Rough day?” He asked.

You nodded and looked up at hi, “Like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been doing stupid science all freaking day and I can’t do it. It’s so confusing. And it’s pointless Tommy. Why do I have to know what a ribosome does. I don’t even know what that is,” you ranted. You could’ve gone on but Tom stopped you.

“I could help you if you want. I think I’m pretty decent at biology,” he was trying to cheer you up but he could tell it dudn’t work. Tom sighed, “I think I know what’ll cheer you up,” he stood up and started towards your door.

“What is it? Is it pizza?” You asked hopefully.

Tom shook his head and left the room. A few minutes later, your door swung open and all four boys barged in. Tom was the first to reach you and he pulled you off your feet and into a hug. Next was Sam, then Harry, and finally Paddy.

You tried to wiggle out of their grip but they all just hugged you tighter, “Guys, let me go. Please?”

“Not until you’re happy again,” Paddy said.

#prompt requests #tom holland x sister!reader

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starkerotic · 3 years

Text

i melt in your mouth, girl, not in your hands. [part 1]

[based on the stress-baking prompt from this au post.]

If anyone had asked Bucky only three years before, he never would have thought that he would eventually end up here, back in the same apartment complex from his youth - updated and much more expensive than the fifty dollars or so he remembers Steve’s mother fretting over so many times before she died, his own mother patting Sarah’s frail hands as she reassured her that everything would work out in the end, but very much the same.

(It’s… comforting, in a way he’s not felt since he went off to The War, pride in his heart and fear buried deep below, his mother’s tears wet on his cheek and the warmth of Steve’s farewell - or, at least, see you soon, as it turned out - hug still surrounding him, his heart beating strong, as quick as a hummingbird’s wings, as he boarded the bus and sat with the other men ready to lay their lives on the line for their country and their god and their loved ones.)

“Buck! Open up, I’ve got pizza!”

New floors, news appliances, new owners… same old Steve. (Well, still a punk that picks fights too big for him, anyway.)

“If you knock down my door again, you’re explaining to Stark why he’s paying for the same damage a third time.” He doesn’t have to raise his voice much louder than his normal speaking volume. Steve’s enhanced hearing is just as good as his own - even better, perhaps; he is, after the original super soldier, while Bucky’s serum was hardly more than a diluted mimicry with a side of mind control.

Steve’s big, dumb grin greets him once the door opens, as bright and carefree and happy as Bucky remembers from before The Fall and before The War and after Bucky could hear his trigger words (longing, rusted, seventeen…) and keep his mind his own. (Once upon a time, that stupid grin would have fluttered his heart, sent his pulse a little higher, set his smile a little wider, but too many things have changed between them for Bucky to feel that same connection now.)

“I don’t think he’d mind, because it means I’m not busy-” Steve frowns, carefully setting all four pizza boxes down on Bucky’s small kitchen island. “-‘killing his vibe’.”

The pleasant aroma of chocolate chip cookies (it’s been faint all evening, but with the door open, it hits him full-force) drifts from the apartment across the hall, just like it used to when he and Steve were boys and one of their mothers (and, in one disastrous incident, Bucky’s sister) had enough spare ingredients and time to bake a baker’s dozen or two. It makes Bucky long (longing, rusted, seventeen…) for those days so far gone, when things were bad but never dismal and his mother’s soft humming and his sister’s giddy laughter rang through the halls, sweet and familiar and-

The door snaps shut, Bucky’s vibranium fingers curling over the wooden frame. It does nothing to remove the scent of the other tenant’s baking, but he feels better with the flimsy barrier.

“Buck?”

Sleek metal shines in the light as Bucky releases the frame and flexes his fist for a moment, careful to take the deep breaths his court-appointed therapist (and, god, what a joke that is, expecting him to open up to a woman with no idea of where he comes from, of what used to make him Bucky that the serum and HYDRA stole away from him) recommended in their first session. It never helps, not really (he has too much anger built up, he surmises, ready to boil and burn and destroy in all the same ways he was once ordered to by both his own government and the enemy), but he’s trying.

“Sorry,” rasps Bucky. He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat, but offers no excuse or explanation for his behavior. (He doesn’t owe anyone anything - not even Steve.)

The grin isn’t quite as wide anymore, but the blond doesn’t look like he’s readying himself to attack, so Bucky moves nearer, flesh hand reaching for the nearest box: a simple cheese with extra sauce. “Thanks,” Bucky mutters and downs half a slice in one bite, the cheese almost too hot, the sauce with the exact right consistency and flavor. The simple pie is Bucky’s (unofficial) favorite, a reminder that not everything has changed.

“Any time.” Steve stares at him for a few moments longer - long enough that Bucky’s back stiffens - but he only offers Bucky a slice of a second pizza (red peppers and ricotta and Italian sausage) before he holds up the stack of boxes he’s supporting with his left hand. “I’ve got Sorry! and Scrabble and,” he sighs, put-upon in a way only Steve Rogers can be, “Clue - the Avengers version.”

Bucky snorts, and his muddled mind clears of familiar feminine laughter and warm chocolate chip cookies.

“It’s always the Widow.”

(Natasha, in fact, is the culprit two times out of three. Bucky has more fun in the two hours they play, bullshitting his questions and pretending to think much too long on Steve’s when he only has one of the answers to give up, than he’s had since he first woke from his programming.)

Steve has been gone for at least fifteen minutes when there’s a knock at his door.

“I told you the last slice was mine when you left, punk, so don’t-”

He’s let the familiar surroundings lull him into what bit of security he can still feel because, rather than Steve on his doorstep, it’s… Well, he isn’t positive who it is, but judging by the open door across from him and the overwhelming scent of home and freshly-baked cookies, Bucky makes an assumption. “You must be the baker.” His words are gruff, but he tries to keep his tone level and as kind as he can make it without his usual scowl creeping over his face.

Perfectly rosy cheeks look to darken even further as his neighbor looks up from Bucky’s chest, surprise and awe appearing and disappearing, quick as a flash across his face. Brown eyes (they remind Bucky of autumn, of warm days and cool nights and leaves crunching along a woodland trail) widen for only a moment on the black-and-gold vibranium weapon that serves as his arm.

Bucky braces himself for a flurry of questions about the arm, the Avengers, Captain America-

“I’m sorry. Do the smells bother you?” Perfectly straight teeth, pearly white except for the slightest smudge of chocolate on the left canine, show in a nervous smile. He hides his eyes, ducking his head just enough to avoid Bucky’s, as he rambles, “I’m really sorry about that; it’s just an easy way for me to destress, I guess - ha - and I didn’t think it would be an issue with anyone because I usually bake a ton and give them to everyone in the building and-”

“It’s not a problem,” Bucky interrupts, and the other man smiles and- Wow. Bucky can’t remember ever seeing another person so delighted and… cute.

“You’re sure?” Cute Neighbor asks. His arms shift, muscles flexing just the tiniest bit as he tightens his grip around a Tupperware container in his hands.

Bucky takes a moment (two, three, four…) to soften his features, to relax his tense shoulders and look less likely to snap someone’s neck. “Positive,” he reassures and, just to see those cheeks pinken up a second time, he winks. “Reminds me of home.”

The blush comes along with another smile, bright and kind and much less big and dumb than the one Steve had greeted him with earlier, though a tinge of sadness dulls it. “Same,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before he startles and shoves the Tupperware out in front of him in an offering to Bucky - homemade cookies for the feared Winter Soldier. “Everyone else has already gotten theirs,” he tells Bucky. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go without.”

And that’s just-

Bucky’s chest expands on a breath, holds… and releases. “Thanks, doll.” The endearment slips out like it’s nothing, as easy as it always used to back in the forties.

His neighbor only laughs, a little breathless, and says, “I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” before going on his way, blessing Bucky with one last smile before he shuts the door to his apartment.

Peter Parker.

The cookies are a small taste of whatever heaven may exist after this life, the chocolate chips melting as soon as the cookie touches his tongue, and Bucky can’t help but to hope that Peter finds himself stressed again sooner rather than later.

#winterspider #Bucky Barnes/Peter Parker #Peter Parker/Bucky Barnes #peter/Bucky #Bucky/peter #my writing

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wndrcarol · 3 years

Text

daddy’s favorite | ceo!c.d. | part 3

part one | part two

summary: working for your fathers company has its perks. But one of those perks is being able to gain connections.

a/n: okay this time I made sure to put the ‘keep reading’ tab bc it completely flew over my head adding it to pt.2 whoopsie. Alrighty, so this chapter we really start uh ,, getting into it 👀 some teasing bc why tf not

also! again, if you’d like to be added to the taglist for ‘daddy’s favorite’ then just let me know and I’ll be more than glad to add you!

au: CEO

pairings: Carol Danvers x F!Reader

other characters in chap.: Tony Stark (father)

warnings: nothing serious but some closeness ahem lmaO

———

Carol kept trying. Almost everyday it felt like. She would call your office, asking for info on the company to add to her records for the new deal and then would proceed to ask you out. Everytime you declined, even though you wanted to accept badly.

You thought if you kept her on edge about her asking you out, it would be a bit fun to just keep the confident blonde on her toes for a while. But, each time you fought with yourself to keep cool and not accept. But today was different.

Once again, Carol called asking for a certain file information to which you complied in giving to her. Then came her daily question.

“Still deciding on that date?” She asked through the phone as you smiled lightly, closing the paper folder infront of you. You could here her pen tapping on the table over the phone, anxiously waiting for your response, hoping today would be the day you’d say yes.

“I’ll go” you said, making Carol freeze. She didn’t know what to say next. She thought you’d give your answer of “I don’t know yet” or “things are so busy, I need more time” but she was stunned at your two words.

“You-“ she started, clearing her throat and composing herself before continuing, “you will?” She asked, feeling a bit giddy knowing you said yes.

“Yes, unless you don’t want me to anymore then-“ you said, smirking into the phone, playing along a bit more.

“No, no! Of course I do” she said, cutting you off as she felt a smile grow on her face. “Only took you a bit of time to say yes” she chuckled, smiling into the phone and playing with the phone cord. There she was, the smug Carol you partially began to adore.

“Doesn’t hurt to keep you on your toes” you smiled into your phone, unknowing to what Carol looked like.

“Well then, how about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up from work” she said as you nodded your head before realizing she couldn’t see you.

“Sounds like a date” you chuckled, feeling the sensation of butterflies in your stomach slightly which caught you a bit off guard but enjoying the feeling at the same time.

“Alright, I’ll see you then” Carol said, smiling before placing the phone down and letting out a sigh of relief. Who knew a phone call could make a girl so happy?

The next day, Carol had called saying she’d be picking you up right from work which you didn’t mind but would have liked time to change into something better to go out in instead of your work clothes.

You decided against telling your father that you were going on a date with Carol. You knew what his reaction would be to hearing his daughter go out with his new business partner and it wouldn’t be pretty. Plus, he didn’t need to know everything that happened in your private life so there was no harm in keeping it under wraps.

Packing up your things and placing them into your bag, you began to put on your jacket when you heard a knock at your door.

Looking up, you saw your dad as he smiled at you before leaning against the doorway. He gave you an apologetic look and you groaned, stopping your actions, knowing what that look meant.

“I really hate to do this to you” he said, pulling out a stack of paper from behind his back and stretching it out towards you.

“Can’t I do it tomorrow?” You asked, walking slowly towards him, hesitant to take the pile of papers.

“These have to be finalized and in the system by tonight. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you earlier” he said as you sighed, grabbing the stack and turning around, placing them onto your desk.

“That would’ve been nice” you groaned out, beginning to take your jacket off.

“Did you have plans tonight?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you as you walked around your desk, shaking your head and looking up at him.

“No, just was going to go home and watch movies” you said, lying through your teeth, praying he’d buy it. You were a pretty bad liar at times so this was one time you hoped you seemed convincing at least.

Your father looked you up and down before shrugging and giving you an apologetic look. “Well, this would be more eventful then binging a show in one night, right?” He said before getting interrupted by his phone ringing.

Picking it up and stepping out the room quickly, you sat down with a sigh. Now you had to call Carol and change the plans which you really didn’t want to do. You were excited for tonight, hopefully to get to know her better but the universe had other plans in store.

Your father stepped back in, putting his phone away and buttoning his jacket up. “I have to go. I’m meeting with someone over dinner for another deal” he said, looking at you apologetically once more. He walked over to you and pressed a small kiss on your head before walking back over to the door.

“I’m sorry again. Call me if you need anything, okay?” He said as you nodded, waving at him to leave. Letting out a sigh once you were alone, you picked up your phone and dialed Carol’s number, feeling bad to even tell her the change of plans.

“A little eager aren’t we” Carol picked up, a small smirk on her face as you chuckled lightly into the phone and she immediately knew your tone was off.

“Um, I don’t think I can make it. I have to finish up these reports by tonight and I know it’s going to take forever. I’m sorry” you said quickly, wanting to get over with telling her when you were met with silence through the phone.

“Hello?” You asked after a couple seconds, checking to see if you had been disconnected before you heard Carol speak.

“I’ll just come to you” she said, managing a small smile while feeling a bit sad that she couldn’t take you out.

“Are you sure?” You asked, feeling a bit hopeful knowing she suggested coming to your work but not fully feeling excited as you don’t want to jinx it.

“Of course! I’m going to let you reschedule when you just said yes to me” she chuckled which made you let out a small giggle over the phone as you began playing with the phone cord.

“Alright, sounds good then” you said as she nodded, smiling into the phone, feeling that giddy feeling again.

“Is pizza okay? I’ll pick some up on the way there” she asked, beginning to put things away on her desk with her free hand.

“Pizza is perfect” you said as she nodded, closing her drawer before standing up and grabbing her bag, holding the phone with the support of her shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon” she continued to smile before grabbing the phone with her hand and placing it down onto the receiver.

Placing your phone down, your smile still was on your face and you knew it wouldn’t be wiped off. Getting right into work, you made it your goal to get as much done as you could before Carol came.

Rubbing your hands over your face, you let out a sigh as you finally were able to relax a bit after inputting each page into the system online. Moving your hands away, you looked at your watch which read 5:45p. You had been at this for at least two hours and it also meant it’s been two hours since you had called Carol.

Hearing a knock at your door startled you as you turned to see Carol there with a small take out pizza box and a small smile on her face. “Sorry for the wait, the line at the place was long” she said, coming close and placing the box on the desk before standing up and shaking your head at her lightly.

“Plus, I wanted to give you some time to work since it sounded it was going to be stressful” she said, looking around your desk and seeing all these pages around your desk. “Which I guessed right” she chuckled as you laughed along, gathering the papers and stacking them up nicely.

“Don’t worry about it. I got a pretty good dent in” you smiled at her before looking down, realizing you both needed plates. Excusing yourself, you made your way to the break room, looking in the cabinets for plates and two water bottles for you both before taking them back to your office.

“Here you go” you said, handing Carol a plate and water bottle to which she said a small “thank you” as you sat down, taking a piece of pizza.

Taking a bite, you looked up at Carol who already had her eyes on you. Raising an eyebrow at her, you swallowed your food before shrugging at her.

“What?” you asked as she chuckled, picking up her napkin and wiping a bit of grease that had dripped onto your chin.

Her movements were soft on your face and it made your heart feel as though it fluttered in your chest as you watched her hand. Pulling her hand back she smiled at you.

“Just had something on your face” she said before taking a bite of her slice. You sat there a bit dumbfounded before composing yourself and taking a drink from your water bottle as she began to look around your office a bit, getting a sense as to who you were before looking back at you.

“Thanks” you said, as she nodded, taking another bite of her pizza while continuing to look a you. You both sat in silence but it was nice. You’d say a couple words here and there, mainly about your day but it was comforting to have her there with you.

While finishing up her slice, she continued to look around your room, studying it. Studying and looking at every photo on the wall, things on shelves. Carol couldn’t help but smile when she saw photos of you being silly or smiling wide in some. She couldn’t help but think of how cute you looked in them.

Her eyes landed on one of your shelves and she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. Placing her plate down, she got up and picked up the Magic 8 Ball that sat on your shelf before turning to you, holding it in her hands. She raised an eyebrow at you as you chuckled. Carol used to have one and would always use it so seeing it in your office just brought back memories.

“That’s my luck charm, I’ve had it since...forever” you said, watching her as she shook it, turning it over to read the answer before frowning. Wonder what she asked it.

“Helps me make big decisions. You should invest in one” you joked, smiling at her before getting up and walking over to her.

“Did you ask it about this date?” she quirked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You chuckled, taking the ball from her and shaking it, turning it over to see the triangle showing ‘yes’.

Turning it to Carol, you smiled at her and nodded your head. “But of course, doesn’t hurt to go against the oracle at times” you said, placing it back into her hand. Your fingers brushed hers lightly which made Carol shiver lightly as she looked up at you.

“Is that so?” she looked up at you before turning to place it back on the shelf in its rightful place.

“Didn’t hurt to keep you on your toes for while. I think you’d understand that” you said as she turned back to look at you, a small smirk evident on both your faces but hers read out a different meaning making yours to wipe off your face quickly.

Your confidence quickly went away as you watched her movements. She moved her hand from the magic 8 ball on your shelf before walking over close to you. You moved back until you felt the desk behind you, making you stop.

“You know it’s not nice to lead people on” she said, leaning you against your desk as her body moved closer to yours. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you looked at her. All of a sudden, you felt hot. Like you were burning up from the inside.

Her hand made its way to your lower back, supporting you while her other hand moved up to push away a piece of stray hair. Your mind was trying to register all the different sensations you were feeling. From her soft touch on your face to the hand on your back, your head felt fuzzy from it running a mile a minute

Leaning close to your ear, you could feel her breath against your skin and you closed your eyes, feeling soothed and aroused at the same time by the sensation.

“Especially people who really want a chance” she said, placing a small kiss below your ear lobe, making you sigh lightly as she pulled back, looking at you and smirking.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” She said, moving her hand to caress your cheek before completely pulling away from you and began getting ready to leave like nothing happened.

You stayed in the same position, stunned as she put her jacket on and grabbed her bag before turning to you, her smirk still on her face.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” she winked before walking out your office and down the hall. You looked around, still stunned as you sat down on your desk. What the fuck just happened?

———

taglist: @marvelbbyx @mynameispurple @sat-yrr

feedback is appreciated!

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers au #carol danvers one shot #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel au #captain marvel one shot #marvel imagine #daddy’s favorite fic #wndrwriting #mine.txt

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lunar-jimin · 4 years

Text

i can be temptation, you can be my sin

Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes

Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna for @ficswithluv‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude. She’s the best!

| m.list |

“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“

“Bright and comforting?”

“-awful.”

His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.

“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”

“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.

You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.

Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.

With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.

A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.

In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.

An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?

While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.

Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.

When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.

The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33

You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.

You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.

When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.

“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:

He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.

“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”

He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.

Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.

You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.

The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.

“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”

You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.

“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”

You want to scream.

“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”

You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.

Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.

Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.

“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”

He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.

“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”

Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.

As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.

You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.

“Doll? Are you in there?”

Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.

“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.

He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, baby.”

You pull away to look at his eyes.

“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”

“They loved it.”

“What?”

“They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”

You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.

“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.

For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.

“Well, then…”

You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.

“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.

“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”

“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”

This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.

“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”

He looks genuinely confused at your statement.

“How could I possibly hurt you?”

“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”

“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.

“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”

Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.

“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”

Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.

“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”

Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.

“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”

Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.

“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”

You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”

He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”

He grabbed a rough handful.

“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”

“Okay, daddy.” You whine.

“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes, daddy.”

The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.

“O-one.”

The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.

The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.

“Two.”

By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.

Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.

“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”

Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”

You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Your fingers, daddy, please.”

In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.

“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”

“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”

He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, daddy, right there.”

He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.

“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”

“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.

Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.

After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.

You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.

You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.

As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.

“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.

“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”

“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.

“I can be yours.”

You pause at the door.

“What?”

“I could be your boyfriend.”

“I-“

“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.

“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”

His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”

You grin.

“Okay.”

“Coffee on Saturday?”

“Sounds great.”

#changeswithluv #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #fanfic #one-shot #smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #fluff #angst

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queenofspades20 · 3 years

Text

Date Night

Y/n had been have a rough time at work, so Frankie plans a special night out.

Pairings: Frankie Morales x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some angst (light, stressed about work, nerves, nothing crazy)

This is something I’ve always wanted to do. Just need to get a boyfriend and a truck with an open bed. So, just two things.

Y/n had been struggling at work lately and Frankie could see the exhaustion in her face. She had been coming home late every night for two weeks, working on a project that was supposed to be done Friday. Though she wasn’t talking much about the stress, he knew it was a matter of time before it was going to overwhelm her.

It was ten at night on Thursday when Y/n came home from work. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. The project she had been working on was due to be finished the next day and she couldn’t wait for it to be done. She saw Frankie sitting on the couch, watching a show. He turned to her as she walked into the room. Seeing how tired she was, he just opened his arms and she climbed onto his lap and hugged him.

“You okay?” Frankie asked as he rubbed circles on Y/n’s back.

“I will be when this project is done tomorrow. I’m so tired,” she mumbled into his neck. She was as close to him as she could be, finding comfort in being in his arms.

“What do you say we feed you, because I’m assuming you skipped dinner again, and then we can go to bed?”

“I’m too tired to eat. I’ll eat breakfast. I just want to go to bed with you. I’m assuming Izzy is asleep already?” Y/n asked about Frankie’s daughter. Y/n and Frankie started dating when Isabella was 9 months old and her mother was no longer in the picture. At 4 years old, Isabella was a little spitfire. She had Frankie and Y/n wrapped around her little fingers. Y/n felt guilty for not being around as much the past few weeks and she missed spending time with Izzy.

“Yeah. She tried to stay up and wait for you, but fell asleep about an hour and a half ago.”

“Damn.” Y/n felt herself start to break down. Her tears started to fall onto Frankie’s neck.

“It’s okay. She doesn’t quite understand what you’ve been dealing with, but she knows you love her.”

“It’s not okay. That little girl means the world to me and I’ve barely been around for weeks. How would she know I love her when she never sees me?” Y/n started to cry harder.

“Hey, look at me,” Frankie said as he shifted Y/n so she was looking into his face. “She knows because you make her lunch every day and you draw the little cartoons and pictures for her to enjoy. She knows they’re from you. And your late hours aren’t going to last much longer. Tomorrow the project is done. Why don’t you come home early, we can do dinner with Izzy. I’ll call Pope to come over and then you and me can go out for a bit. He’s always happy to watch her.”

“I should be done by 3.”

“Come home right after that then. It’s Friday and you’ve put in more than enough hours over the past few weeks. Start your weekend early. I’m off until Tuesday anyways.” Frankie stroked the side of Y/n’s face. She leaned into his touch and looked at him with watery eyes.

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, Hermosa. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Be perfectly fine because you have Izzy.”

“I wouldn’t be fine. I love Izzy, obviously, but you make our family complete. You’re always doing things to make sure we know how much you love us. You bring so much light into our lives. We’d be lost without you.”

“You’re gonna make me cry again,” Y/n sniffed. She moved forward and kissed Frankie. “Let’s go to bed, my love.”

Y/n moved to get off Frankie and helped him stand up. After making sure everything was turned off or locked, they made their way to the bedroom. After brushing their teeth and getting changed, they climbed into bed, Y/n snuggling close to Frankie.

“I love you, Frankie.” Y/n sighed as she got comfortable.

“I love you, too.” Frankie kissed Y/n’s brow. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next day, while Y/n was at work, Frankie called Pope to see if he could watch Izzy.

“Of course, Fish. I never turn down time with Izzy. Do you need to me to sleep over?” Pope said over the phone. Frankie was in the kitchen, assembling snacks for his plans for Y/n that night. Izzy was on the floor next to him, coloring.

“Probably. I’m going to take Y/n out in the truck to that area where we can watch the stars. I’m going to fill up the bed with blankets and pillows and we’re just gonna lay out there. It’s supposed to be clear tonight.”

“You know, this would be the perfect time to give her that ring,” Pope suggested. Frankie had made the decision to propose to Y/n, wanting to say vows in front of their friends and family that he intended to spend the rest of his life with her.

“I was thinking that too. Which is why I’m asking you to plan to spend the night. Then we can hopefully go out for a celebratory breakfast tomorrow.”

“There’s no way she’ll say anything other than yes, Fish. She loves you and Izzy.”

“I know she loves us and we’ve talked about marriage, but I’m still nervous.”

“It’ll be fine. And I think she’ll love your surprise for her. So, what time should be I over?

“Well, Y/n is coming home early. Why don’t you come around 5ish and we can all eat dinner together? Y/n loves seeing you too.”

Izzy held up the picture she had drawn. “Look, Daddy!”

Frankie smiled at his daughter. “That’s beautiful, Izzy. Who is it for?”

“Mommy!” Izzy smiled up at her dad.

“She’s going to love it. Your Uncle Pope is going to be coming over later. Why don’t you draw something for him next?”

“Yay, Uncle Pope!” Izzy quickly grabbed another piece of paper from the stack Frankie had put next to her to draw on.

“She’s going to draw something for me?” Pope almost sounded as excited as Izzy.

“She does love you.” Frankie laughed.

“Well, I’m her favorite.”

“I think Y/n is her favorite.”

“Fair. I’m her favorite uncle, then.”

“I’ll give you that. So, I’ll see you around 5?”

“Need me to bring anything?”

“Nah. I’m just going to order in some food. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

Frankie ended the call and turned to his daughter. She was happily drawing her picture for Pope. “Izzy, what do you say we move all this to the living room and wait for Mommy to get home?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Izzy picked up her paper and the crayons she was using. Frankie grabbed the rest of the art supplies, putting the picture Izzy did for Y/n on the kitchen counter, and the two made their way into the living room. After he got Izzy settled, Frankie ran around and grabbed as many blankets and pillows as he could to toss into the bed of his truck. He also blew up the air mattress and got it placed, so they would be comfortable. Y/n had mentioned wanting to do this for some time, but they just hadn’t made it happen yet. Frankie was determined to give her a night to always remember.

Around 4, Y/n came through the door with a tired smile. The project was done without any problems. Her boss had let her leave early and told her to take Monday off as well as a reward for all her hard work. “Hello?” she called out as she toed off her shoes.

“Living room!” Frankie could be heard.

Y/n smiled and walked over to where Frankie and Izzy were sitting on the couch, watching Izzy’s favorite show. Frankie nudged Izzy, who looked up and saw Y/n. She smiled widely and jumped up.

“Mommy!” Izzy ran over to Y/n and wrapped her arms around Y/n’s legs.

“Hi, Baby! Did you have a good day?” Y/n reached down and stroked the top of Izzy’s head.

“The best! I drew you and Uncle Pope pictures and Daddy and I watched some movies.”

“That sounds like a great day.” Y/n smiled at Frankie as she picked up Izzy. She made her way over to the couch and sat next to Frankie with Izzy being settled between them.

“Hi,” Y/n said, looking at Frankie with smile.

“Hi.” Frankie leaned over and gave Y/n a quick kiss. “Good day?”

“Yeah. Project’s done and I’m off til Tuesday. Jack gave me Monday off in recognition of my hard work.”

“Good. So, what shall we order for dinner?” Frankie slung his arm across the back of the couch, his hand reaching forward to stroke Y/n’s shoulder. “Pope will be here for dinner.”

“So, pizza?”

“Pizza works. I’ll call in a little bit.”

Y/n stood up from the couch. Frankie looked at her quizzically. “I’m going to change. What are we doing later?”

“It’s a surprise. Just dress comfortable, that’s all I’m going to give you.”

“So jeans?”

“Jeans and tshirt works,” Frankie confirmed.

“Perfect. After having to put in extra hours and wearing nothing but professional clothes, I’m happy to be casual. I’ll be back.”

While Y/n was getting changed, he called the pizza in. Pope got there around the same time as the pizza. After dinner, Frankie and Y/n hung around for a little bit longer. Y/n was getting caught up on what was going on in Pope’s life. While they were talking, Frankie made a thermos a hot chocolate. When he was done, he walked over to where everyone was sitting.

“Ready to go, Y/n?”

Y/n looked up at him with a smile. “Let’s go.” She turned to Izzy. “You be good for your Uncle Pope, Izzy, okay?”

“I will, Mommy.” Izzy moved closer to Pope and hugged him. “I’m always good for Uncle Pope,” she said, innocently.

The adults started laughing. Y/n went and kissed Izzy’s head. “Love you, Izzy. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Frankie went over and gave Izzy a kiss goodbye. He looked at Pope. “I’d give some rules, but you ignore them anyways. Just don’t do anything too crazy.”

Pope smiled at them. “You know me well. Have a fun night, you two.”

Frankie led Y/n to his truck, distracting her from looking in the back. He had loaded up the blankets and snacks shortly before she got home. He was happy she didn’t notice the blankets missing from in the house. Frankie put a blindfold over Y/n’s eyes.

“I want this to be a surprise.”

“This doesn’t end with you killing me and dumping my body in a forest, does it?” Y/n asked with a smile. She didn’t need to see him to know Frankie was giving her an unimpressed look.

Frankie sighed. “You’d think I would anticipate your jokes by now, Hermosa. But no, I’m not going to kill you.”

Frankie put the truck into drive and directed the truck towards the field he was taking her to. It was about a 45 minute drive, well outside city limits, so that they would have a clear view of the sky. Thankfully, the weather channel was right about the weather and the skies were absolutely clear. When he got to the field, he put the truck in park and had Y/n stay seated while he set up the blankets and pillows. After everything was set up to his satisfaction, Frankie felt in his pocket for the ring and took a big sigh. He helped Y/n out of the truck and then gently removed the blindfold.

“I thought we could look at the stars,” Frankie said, gesturing to the bed of the truck and to the sky.

Y/n felt her eyes tear up. “Frankie, this is perfect!” She moved her arms around his torso and pulled him close. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

“I remember us talking about it once. I thought this would be a good way to wind down after the stressful weeks you’ve had.”

“It is. Thank you.”

Frankie led her to the back of the truck and let the tailgate down. He helped her jump up on the bed and she got settled on the air mattress. Frankie followed her up and closed the tailgate. The night had a bit of a chill to it, making the blankets a perfect addition. Frankie and Y/n were propped up against the back with the pillows, so they could sit up while drinking the hot chocolate Frankie made. They talked about everything and nothing, at some point just being quiet while looking up at the stars. The silence was comfortable and Y/n hadn’t felt this relaxed or happy in weeks.

“I love you, Frankie,” Y/n whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace they had created for themselves. Her eyes stayed on the stars and she had a soft smile on her lips.

Frankie shifted, reaching into his pocket for the ring. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He felt his heartbeat pick up pace and his palms started to get sweatier. He cleared his throat and looked down at Y/n. Y/n felt the nerves radiating off him and looked at him questioningly.

“I love you, too, Y/n,” Frankie rushed out, realizing he hadn’t responded to her in a few moments. He fumbled with the ring in his hands, trying to not let Y/n see it until he had asked her his question. “There’s actually something I want to ask you.”

“You can ask me anything, Frankie.”

“I, uh, I…” Frankie had prepared a whole speech, but in the moment, his nerves got the better of him.

“Take your time.” Y/n reached up and stroked the side of Frankie’s face. She smiled at him encouragingly.

Frankie covered her hand with his own, the ring in his other hand. He took a steadying breath and smiled down at her.

“You are the light of my life. When we met, I didn’t think I deserved another chance at a relationship. I had Izzy and I thought that would be all I could ever have. I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as amazing as you, but I’m so glad I did it. You are my best friend and you have become the mother of my child. You brought love into our lives and I couldn’t be more thankful for you.”

Y/n started to tear up at his sweet words. “I’m the lucky one,” she said softly. She didn’t want to interrupt Frankie, but she couldn’t hold in her feelings.

Frankie smile at her. “Y/f/n, would you do me the honor of marrying me and officially adopting Izzy? You are her mother in every way that matters and nothing would make me happier than to be your husband.”

Y/n couldn’t stop the tears falling down her cheeks. She pulled Frankie into a heated kiss. She smiled at them as they broke apart.

“Is that a yes?”

Y/n let out a watery laugh. “Of course, it’s a yes. I would love to be your wife and Izzy’s mom. Are you sure you want to go through the adoption process?”

“Yes. Izzy already clearly considers you her mother. I just want it to be legal.” Frankie took Y/n’s left hand and slid on the ring.

“Frankie,” Y/n said in awe. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “You just made me the happiest man alive.”

“Well, as you just made me the happiest woman, I think we’re even.”

They settled into the blankets, holding each other. They spent the rest of the night out under the stars. Frankie texted Pope that they were going to camp out under the stars and that they would be having a celebratory breakfast in the morning.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales fluff #In need of some serious fluff #catfish morales #frankie catfish morales

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doctorthreephds · 3 years

Text

Synapses: Part 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 6.4k

TW: Death, sickness, blood, violence, typical Criminal Minds stuff, specifically from the episode “Amplification”

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Spencer as your relationship grows. But, the calm is just before the storm and your job puts you in more danger than you signed up for.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention @eevee0722

Spencer made it easy to fall in love. You had little knowledge of romantic relationships besides a couple of elementary and middle school “relationships” that were barely romantic, just a couple of kids attempting to find their way in the world. Your experience with relationships, in general, had been difficult. Your father was estranged growing up and your mother was loving but constantly busy with work and her duties as a diplomat. She made time for you, though, and in the end, you wish you had made more time for her.

Death is a fickle thing, it is the only thing that makes life worth living, and yet even as a forensic scientist, you wanted to figure out how to evade it. When your mother died, your relationship with death was complicated because you felt cheated. That she deserved so many more years of life and that you should have done more to help. You know that in your heart, you feel a deep passion for Spencer, that you want to get to know him and to cherish him as he should be cherished, but death still loomed overhead and it terrified you. So you hold Spencer at an arm’s length. While he had no problem hugging you and holding your hand occasionally, you made sure he remains cordial and platonic with you. Such a task was difficult, though.

Your feet ache as you walk over to the elevator, sniffling in an attempt to calm your runny nose. Spring had officially set in and so had your allergies; it seemed as if all the pollen in the world was coming for your sinuses. Pulling out a tissue to blow your nose, you barely register Spencer standing next to you.

“I’m going to see Ponyo in theaters tonight, it’s a limited run and they’re playing it in Japanese. You could come with me, I could even simultaneously translate it to you,” he states and you jump slightly in surprise, not having expected him to be there.

“Sounds like fun, but I desperately need Claritin and I wouldn’t want you to miss the screening,” your voice is nasal as you speak, the pressure in your head making it pound with every step you take once you exit the elevator.

“It’s no problem, we can both head home and I’ll just pick you up with my car,” he suggests, and you look over suspiciously.

“You hate driving.”

“But I’d drive for you,” you sigh as the two of you make it out of the building and start toward the metro. “I’d just really like to see it with you, I think you’d enjoy it.”

You huff as the breeze picks up slightly, hitting you with another face full of pollen. Looking over at Spencer, his eyes were bright and full of mischief. He holds onto the strap of his bag as the two of you walk down the stairs and you try your best to read his face. Only pure content and joy, oh how this man has ruined you.

“Fine. Only if you pay for dinner,” you mumble, blowing your nose into another tissue as the train approaches.

“Of course, it’s my turn anyway,” he states, a satisfied look on his face. The two of you often paid for each other when it came to food, remaining constantly indebted to each other. But this way, you always knew he would come back. Because he owed you.

Getting home was a relief, it truly serves as a place to escape and decompress. After being stuffy all day and having to work through several reports as you reviewed the evidence and possible threats, it had truly been a test of your patience. After taking Claritin and changing into something a little more suited to the weather, Spencer arrives right on time. The rest of the night goes off with a hitch and more often than not do you find yourself looking over at Spencer as his eyes take in every single little detail of the movie. True to his word, the two of you order cheap nachos and pizza from the movie theater and munch on it during the movie. He speaks translations to you in a low whisper, adding intonation and inflection to distinguish between the characters. Spencer never ceases to amaze you and while you love Ponyo, there’s just something so alluring about watching Spencer talk about things that interest him. At the end of the movie, he continues to process and talk about every little detail left to his whim.

“While Ponyo is essentially a movie about a child’s innocence and familial love, there is an underlying theme that comments on the pollution of our oceans, as seen in the character of Fujimoto who is afraid of humans and constantly criticizes them,” Spencer says as the two of you walk into the foyer.

“The ramen looked amazing, though. It makes me hungry for some real food,” you state as the smell of popcorn makes you crave even more food.

“Food in film, specifically films directed by Hayao Miyazaki, are a tool to show togetherness and family as well as human nature. The details of the food tell their own story in many of the other movies. We’ll have to check them out if they even come to the theater,” he continues and you smile, shaking your head.

“Or we can just watch them at my apartment. I’ll buy the whole box set and we’ll just have a whole binge,” you tell him as the two of you make it out onto the street, walking back to his car.

“That’s also good too,” he says as you bark out a laugh. “It’s a date.”

While such trivial words shouldn’t insight fear inside of you, it doesn’t stop you from spending the rest of the night thinking about it after Spencer drops you back home. It remains in your mind the next day when you go to work and find your way to the BAU during lunch, only to find that they were called away on a case. So, the rest of the week is spent thinking about the words “it’s a date.” Obviously, he meant a physical date, like the one on a calendar. But what if he wasn’t? He hadn’t been over to your apartment before and you had never gone to his. It was like a platonic line the two of you hadn’t crossed so that your relationship would stay strictly on the down-low. What did it mean that he wanted to come over to your apartment, then? On a so-called “date?” There wasn’t even an actual day you planned to have your movie marathon on, so technically it couldn’t even be considered a date. Just a plan.

That Friday, you were getting ready to go home and crash on the couch after ordering take out when Penelope texts you.

From Penelope (5:46 PM):

I’m gonna need some reinforcements up here, the team is just getting back.

To Penelope (5:46 PM):

Hard case?

From Penelope (5:47 PM):

Like you can’t even imagine.

Sighing, you get up out of your chair and head to the elevator, going a couple of floors up to the BAU. When you get out, Penelope stands there with a face of anticipation as she sees you walk out.

“Oh good, they’re almost here. Spencer’s not doing too hot,” she says and you frown, turning to face the elevator.

As if they were summoned, the second elevator opens up to reveal the team in several different states of fatigue and disappointment. Spencer stands in the back, hunched over slightly as he frowns and follows the rest of them out once the doors are fully open. You smile at your dad and pat him on the shoulder as he leans down.

“The gelato place downtown is still open,” he whispers and kisses your cheek before walking into the offices. You walk in front of Spencer and gently bump into him to break him from his stupor.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask and look up at him, seeing the furrow in his brow and the dark circles under his eyes that look even darker.

“Nothing, I have to work on my reports,” he mumbles and walks past into the offices.

“Why don’t we go get food and you can come back, just to help clear your mind,” you insist, following him as he collapses into his office chair, rubbing his temples to relieve a bit of the stress built up over the past couple days.

“I have too much to work on,” he brushes you off and turns to stare at all the papers stacked up on his desk.

“You can work on them this weekend,” you state and push the spinny chair so that he faces you. “I know something is wrong, we’ve known each other for several months and I can tell when something is bothering you. Now, I’m not going to ask, but I do know that you can complete reports faster than everyone here and that you can take them home. So, I declare today backwards day. Let’s go grab some ice cream.”

You smile your biggest smile in hopes of breaking him out of his spiral and the reference to Ponyo definitely helps. He smiles slightly, although it doesn’t reach his eyes, and shoves a couple of folders into his satchel before standing.

“Lead the way,” you smile at him and loop your arm around his in hopes of helping to keep him grounded. The two of you walk out of the BAU in silence, but you can feel a change in Spencer already. Hunting the worst types of people every single day as a job constantly gets to you, especially when it comes to this team who constantly look at the mind of unidentified subjects to catch them. With your father, he deals with it through good old compartmentalization and expensive alcohol. For Spencer, you would guess it’s not as easy. His mind was endlessly thinking and analyzing so any mistake made would be remembered and replayed. The best you can do is let him know that there’s a world around him other than everything going on in his head.

After getting on the metro, you engage in simple conversation, telling him about what you’ve had the luxury of working on and the most recent book you had been reading: The Awakening by Kate Chopin. When you see the stop for downtown, you pull him off the train and begin to walk toward your favorite family-owned gelato establishment.

“Where are we going?” he asks, looking around at the nightlife of D.C.

“It’s a surprise,” you wink and pull him toward a small shop full of freezers filled with gelato. His eyes light up at the sight of the gaudy decorations that are over the top depictions of Florence and Rome.

“Gelato?”

“It’s backwards day!” you remark and order a medium stracciatella.

“I’ll get a medium mint chip,” he asks and you reach out hand over your card before Spencer can get to the cashier.

When the both of you have your gelato in hand, you both slowly meander down the street as you devour into your delicious treat.

“Did you know that the word stracciatella comes from the Italian word ‘stracciare’ and is also the name of the famed soup that is popular in the Lazio region of central Italy? The same technique is applied to the ice cream but instead of chocolate and ice cream, it’s broth and an egg-based mixture. It’s a western variation of the Chinese egg drop soup,” he gets out before spooning some of the gelato into his mouth. You can only smile at him as you admire how beautiful he looks in the dim lighting, rambling on and effectively getting him away from the horrors of the world, even if for a moment. He continues to talk about soup and how often eastern traditions are westernized and taken over, but all you can do is stare at him and think about how head over heels you are for him.

Perhaps it is love. But your heart is stored in a box away from harm. Its defenses were weakening, though. Every word spoken by Spencer was like a small chisel working away at the precious marble box, artistic and masterful. You love him, yet in your mind, keeping it from him meant keeping him safe. Or, keeping yourself safe.

Quiet weeks are always appreciated at the FBI. Quiet weeks for you meant simple research and few reports, just enough to keep yourself busy. Quiet weeks for the BAU were just simple consultations and writing up all their fieldwork into manageable reports. But, before a tsunami, the ocean always rears its ugly face.

You knew something was wrong when your director called you before dawn. A shrill noise jerked you from your sleep and you pull your phone to your ear even before checking the caller.

“Agent Montgomery,” you reply groggily, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you check your digital clock.

“There’s a suspected attack, we’re sending an agent to pick you up. The FBI is under strict media blackout rules so do not inform anyone,” Director Chase states. “There’s Cipro for you on arrival.”

Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of anthrax. You had just started college when the Amerithrax attacks happened, it had been one of the reasons you wanted to become a toxicologist. Never in your life did you ever expect to face an actual anthrax attack head-on.

Getting ready is a blur, you pull on suitable clothes and meet the other agent when they arrive. During the drive, you are given a very quick debrief. Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms with black lesions and lung failure after they had all been at the same park after 2 p.m. The strain of anthrax used was weaponized and reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs, odorless and invisible. At the moment, there are eleven dead with the number quickly rising. All remaining patients were moved to a special wing in Walter Reed Hospital with Dr. Linda Kimura from the CDC and her team overseeing the treatment of all victims. You memorize this information and how you would apply your skills, finding any evidence and analyzing it. The thought of working with the BAU is both exciting and terrifying. Your father would be at risk, and so would Spencer. The only peace of mind is the fact that you would be working with them so any harm that comes to them would go through you first.

Once at the Bureau, you swallow the Cipro dry and take the elevator up to the BAU where several military scientists have gathered and move around the busy offices. Your director approaches you as you enter and glance around at all the chaos.

“Dr. Kimura’s already in the conference room with Agent Jareau and Agent Hotchner. You’ll be accompanying them to any possible active sites to try and gather a sample as well as oversee the response,” he states and you nod, climbing up the stairs and trying not to throw up the pills you just swallowed. Seeing JJ and Hotch helps to ground you a little but your heart still beats quickly.

“Dr. Kimura, it’s nice to meet you,” you smile weakly and shake her hand.

“You too, I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances,” she replies and you nod, turning to look at the file full of evidence. It was unlike anything you had ever seen, less than twenty-four hours and already fourteen people were dead.

The rest of the team shuffles in and you meet Spencer’s gaze, seeing the worry build up in his eyes like tiny storms. You were sure that your face shared the same fear. As they are debriefed, you find yourself looking through at the lesions and pictures shared, trying not to grimace at the sight. College had its fair share of gross photos, but those people were either dead or safe. Time was not your friend.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura and Dr. Montgomery to the hospital, interview the victims,” you tune in at your name and look up at Hotch as he delivers assignments. “There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something,” Dr. Kimura huffs out as she raises the tray for everyone to take.

“This is really happening?” Emily asks. That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Can such a weapon be real?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch speaks the words as if they are a mantra as if the FBI knows everything. And while he’s right, the FBI does not know everything about this strain of anthrax. The unknown kills people, you just hope you can get to it before it kills more civilians.

“Jin dan,” your father says. “May you live one hundred years.”

Your jaw clenches as you watch both your father and Spencer takes the pills. Your father is on the older side, you know that and he’s lived through a lot, but something like this would take him out in a matter of hours. And Spencer, he’s young and healthy, but this spore had killed fourteen people. What was another victim?

As you follow Dr. Kimura and Spencer out of the conference room, your mind is full of statistics and chemical concoctions that could help you. It moves quickly and swiftly, distracting you from the escalation of the current situation.

“Why didn’t you take the Cipro?” Spencer asks as you stand in the office.

“I took it when I arrived, I was here before you,” you respond monotonously, sighing as you turn and give him a reluctant smile. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. Never really been ‘in the field’ before.”

“You’ll be great,” he offers you a look of encouragement and squeezes your hand as you follow Dr. Kimura to the cars, waiting for Spencer as he grabs files from JJ.

The car ride is spent talking about treatments and other specific details. You focus on trying to break down the creation of the spores as well as possible antidotes to combat it. Because there are no know samples just yet, you work through from the other angle. How does one weaponize a regular bacteria? Well, increasing its ability to quickly become activated and multiply would do the trick. To fight against it, our white blood cells would need to work just as quickly to get rid of the foreign bacteria that attacks our immune system, therefore an antidote would be able to target this bacteria and destroy it at the same rate. Just as a vaccine would. Arriving at the hospital is a bit jarring, you walk with Dr. Kimura and Spencer up to the wing where you break off and look at blood and toxin reports to fully understand what parts of the body are being attacks as well as what kind of chemicals makes up this specific toxin.

“What’s causing her aphasia?” Spencer asks as they make their way back over to you. This piques your interest as you take notes on a separate piece of paper, jotting down everything you can think of to help understand.

“The poison is infecting the parietal lobe, impairing her speech. Some of the other patients displayed the same symptoms shortly before they died,” she states solemnly, and you sigh as you speak out.

“The only thing that can help them is if we find the antidote because unless we do a molecular analysis of the specific strain, we’re unable to understand how this works,” you grumble, the want to lash out angrily growing. “This can’t be his first attack, especially if he was a scientist. You run small trials before getting to human subjects.”

You continue to work with Spencer, sifting through ideas as Dr. Kimura makes calls and inquires about possible previous victims. It made sense in your little science brain, that one would not test on a bigger group before ensuring it was deadly with a smaller group--like vaccine or drug trials. As Dr. Kimura brings over a list of other patients, Spencer goes into another area to call the team as you cross-reference your notes with her.

“So far, all we know is that this is anthrax. Do you think I can use blood and tissue samples in your lab for analysis? Maybe I can refine the strain and get an antidote or perhaps see how quickly it multiplies,” you ask and she nods.

“Of course,” she calls over another nurse and asks for blood and tissue samples from an already deceased victim and asks for it to be delivered to your lab.

As Spencer steps out of the closet, you look over at him and try to memorize every part of him. The revolver that sticks out of his hip, the badge, the long unruly hair, his violet shirt, just everything that makes him Spencer. Your heart was racing with nerves and all you wanted to do was take him out of harm’s way.

“How are you feeling?” he inquires as you shake your head.

“I feel useless. I’m no medical doctor nor am I any closer to finding the antidote,” you mumble and look up at the ceiling to try and stave off the tears.

“You’re doing great. It’s a waiting game until we get more answers about the profile, you’re doing the best you can,” he reaches out and wraps an arm around you as you hug him, sighing as you deeply inhale his cologne.

“Yet my best can’t stop all these people from dying,” you look over at the young girl that Spencer was talking to, watching as every breath in her lungs feels like the last.

“You’re one person. And I know that when it gets down to it, you’ll be brilliant,” the two of you pull away slightly and you look up at him, your noses almost touching. You could kiss him right now if your lives weren’t being threatened, but the voice of Dr. Kimura breaks the two of you apart.

“How’s she doing?” Spencer asks as the three of you walk over to the window, Dr. Kimura pulling up her charts.

“She’s a fighter. She’s held on this long because she’s young and strong. But she’s started to bleed into her lungs,” Dr. Kimura states and you stare through the glass, wanting to will this young girl to live.

“One of four left,” you mumble and look over at Spencer.

“We’re running into another problem. When next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about cause of death?” you look back through the glass as you ponder another unanswerable question.

Once the samples are ready, you and Spencer go down to the hospital lab where you try to isolate the spore in each of the samples and look at them underneath the microscope as well as streak them on Petri dishes. Spencer helps with tools and supplies so you aren’t running around, but the most that the microscope tells you is that it is anthrax and the dishes won’t be ready for analysis any time soon because they need to incubate. Once done, you clean and sterilize everything before sitting down on one of the chairs and looking up at the fluorescent lights of the hospital.

“This is useless,” you mutter and shake your head.

“No, it’s not. They’re delivering the profile right now and then we’ll be able to find a suspect,” Spencer tells you as you look over at him, a small smile on your face.

“Are you always this optimistic, Dr. Statistics?” you ask as he chuckles.

“No, because I’m usually running and forming statistics, but you distract me enough from the looming threat of death,” your eyes widen as he speaks as you let out a short laugh before his phone begins to ring. The conversation is short, but you gather that you finally have a suspect worthy of bringing in.

“That was Morgan, we’re going to a suspect’s house. His name is Dr. Lawrence Nichols and he tried to lobby for money to fund his anthrax preparedness plan but failed because it wasn’t feasible,” he says as the two of you grab your things and make your way down to the bottom floor, Derek meeting you as the three of you take off toward his house. He fills you in on Dr. Nichols’ past, his adamancy about wanting all families to have protection against anthrax as well as his inevitable job termination. Your hands shake with nerves as you think about having to be around people, specifically people that could potentially pose a threat to your life. This wasn’t what you did, nor was it who you were. You were far out of your comfort zone, but at least you could be helpful instead of sitting around in a lab.

The three of you wait outside the small suburban house, waiting as the hazmat team goes through and ensures that there are no traces of anthrax that could threaten your life.

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Derek states and you look over at the house, it was painted a robin blue. You would never suspect a serial killer to live in such a normal house.

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Spencer suggests as the three of you head toward the garage and behind the house.

You stayed quiet and observed from a scientific view, looking over at the rose bushes and reaching over to touch the delicate flower. Though even the most beautiful flowers have thorns and you wince as a sharp point pricks your finger. Following Spencer, you stick the finger in your mouth to get rid of the blood.

As you maneuver around the many plants, Derek’s phone rings and he puts Penelope on speaker as Spencer listens in. You, on the other hand, continue to look around for any evidence pointing toward him being the suspect. Perhaps a lab of some sorts. As you enter the smaller building behind the house, you instantly see the makings of a lab with the fumes hood and the surplus of beakers and Petri dishes. Stepping into the lab, your heart jumps in your chest when you see a shattered test tube on the floor with white powder.

Behind you, Spencer calls out your name and you rush over the door to close it, the chill of the air conditioning blasting behind you.

“Spencer, get back! Get back right now,” you fumble with the lock, shutting yourself into the lab with the vial.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” he asks and pushes against the door.

“No, please, Spencer. Get away from the door,” you beg, tears forming in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Open the door,” he persists as he stares at you through the glass. Was it enough? Was he infected? You couldn’t know for sure.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you mutter, a tear dripping down your cheek as you step back from the door.

“Kid, what’s going on?” you hear Derek call out from behind Spencer as he backs up from the door.

“Call Hotch. Call an ambulance. Call everyone,” he tells Derek as the fear fills your veins. Your hands are so cold, why are they so cold? Spencer’s sweet voice isn’t enough to talk you down from the anxiety building up. This was the tsunami and you were caught in the tidal wave.

Spencer stands away from the door as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring silently out at him. Your phone rings as he calls you and you put it on speaker.

“Tell me what’s going on, everyone’s on their way. You need to describe everything to me,” you can see Spencer’s mind going a million miles an hour and you could see the blame he put on himself. This wasn’t him, this was all you. At least you were right about anthrax getting through you before it did him.

“There’s a body here, I think it’s Nichols, and he’s dead. There’s also a tube that’s shattered. It’s full of white powder, I’m pretty sure it’s anthrax--Spencer,” you pause, staring straight at him. “I don’t want to die, please I’m so scared.”

You hear all the sirens as they approach and you shake your head, more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Sh, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” he says and you can see that all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you. “This is where you can help, remember? It’s your turn to be the hero.”

You look up to him, the tears blurring his figure as you wipe them from your cheeks, nodding.

“You’re right,” you mumble and take a deep breath before beginning to go through the lab. “You’re right.”

First, the body.

Reaching down, you feel the skin of Dr. Nichols and see the blue-ish tint to his skin as well as the way his blood has pooled. He appears to be dead at least for a day or two, Livor mortis has already set in.

“Spence, he’s been dead for maybe one to two days. Blunt force trauma to his head,” you say just as Hotch and another man join Spencer and Derek.

“Doctor, we need to get you to the hospital,” Hotch speaks and you shake your head.

“No, I can help. I’m the only one who can work the case here. I’m already exposed, there’s nothing they can do but give me morphine. I can do this,” you state and turn to the lab, looking around for any important information.

“Just get out of there, you need to go to the hospital,” Spencer insists as you continue to search his desk.

“She’s already infected. Now if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure,” the general says and you grab the papers off his desk, reading through his notes.

“If I’m in here, I can find the cure, or I can make it. If I figure out how he made this strain then I can make the antidote with his notes,” you reply, hearing Spencer sigh with exasperation. “I can also try to see who killed Dr. Nichols, the answer is in here somewhere.”

“Say something to her, order her. She can’t stay in there,” Spencer’s voice cracks and you shake your head, now was not the time to get distracted.

“She’s right, her best chance is to be inside,” Hotch replies and you set your phone down as you read through his writing. “We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, I’m already infected,” you mumble and break apart all his lab reports.

“Your dad is going to kill me,” Hotch tells you and you sigh, shaking your head.

“He does his job, I do mine.”

Your mind reels at the information, but you force yourself to focus and read through the reports and how Dr. Nichols managed to make such a potent spore. In your mind, your best bet is a combination antibiotic and antibody treatment to combat the toxins and ensure that any remaining bacteria is killed off.

“I think there was a struggle, there’s glass spread out and clutter all over,” you tell them, looking around and finding another desk in the corner. “There’s also another desk in the corner that’s smaller and organized. It appears there are two sets of handwriting as well as instructions on how to sterilize and transfer spores.”

“Nichols would know all that,” the general states.

“He has a partner, maybe even a protege,” Spencer suggests as Hotch and the general run off to go follow that lead. Your phone begins to vibrate and you see that your father is calling you. Picking up, you put the phone to your ear.

“Papa, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, feeling the tears well up once more. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sh, piccolo. This is not your fault. How are you doing?” he asks and you inhale deeply, beginning to feel sharp pains in your chest.

“I’m fine. I’m working,” you let out a sad laugh and shake your head. “I’m scared.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he tells you and he says it with such conviction that you almost believe him.

“If I’m not--”

“Don’t talk like that,” he cuts you off and you shake your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“If I’m not okay, I just want to tell you that you were the best dad in the whole world and that I love you so much. I’ll tell mom ‘hi’ for you,” you hold in a sob as he begins to protest. “I love you.”

You hang up the phone and sob into your hand, breathing in as deeply as possible to try and stay afloat. Quickly, you call up Penelope as something crosses your mind.

“Hey, you,” Penelope mumbles solemnly.

“No funny quip?” you bite your lip nervously as she sighs.

“I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are,” she says.

“Hey, Penny. Do you think you can record something for me?” you ask, glancing out the window to where Spencer is staring in.

“Anything,” you hear her type. “Alright, you’re good.”

“Hey, Spence,” you bite back another sob as it shakes through your chest. “This isn’t how I intended for you to hear this, but here it goes. I love you. So much. And I’m such a coward for not saying it to your face, but, if I’m gone then I want you to know that your brain and your smarts are so incredible, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love you so much.”

A woman in an orange suit steps into the room and you quickly hang up your phone, smiling at Dr. Kimura.

“Dr. Montgomery,” she says as does her best to walk in the suit.

“You look nice,” you say and let out a shaky laugh. “How is everyone else doing?”

“Let’s worry about you,” she states and you nod as Spencer calls you back. You answer and put him on speaker.

“Hey, it’s me and Garcia,” he tells you as a tickle in your throat bubbles up and makes you cough. “I think the cure is in there somewhere. Dr. Nichols was a former military scientist so he’s secretive and paranoid. Prentiss and Rossi don’t think the partner was a coworker.”

“Can you look for the cure while I help them?” you ask Dr. Kimura and she nods as you look around the room. “I’ve been through everything, Spence.”

“I know you’re not thinking straight,” his voice cracks. “But, we need you.”

You clear your throat and nod.

“You’re right,” you rush over to his desk and look through his items. “There’s a picture of him teaching and a syllabus.”

You think back to the instructions and think for a moment.

“Hold on,” you run over to the other desk and look at the content. “It’s a student, it has to be if he went through the trouble of writing lab procedures.”

Picking up the thick stack of paper, you instantly recognize it as some sort of thesis. Years of curating your own, you would never forget it.

“A thesis, his partner was a doctoral student,” sweat drips down your hairline as you sift through the papers.

“He wouldn’t have let just anyone in there so perhaps he opened his lab to a student,” Spencer formulates as you read through the paper. “Check the sciences.”

“Uh, cross-checking with names of former employees or customers with grievances at the bookstore.” Penelope types away at her keyboard as you read through the paper, it mentions things like preparedness and less about the spores itself as well as scientific findings. “Nothing, my doves.”

“This doesn’t sound like a science student, this is all about city preparedness, and response,” you cough and try not to stress about the taste of blood in your mouth.

“Check the social studies,” Spencer states. “Public policy, urban planning.”

“Hot to trot. There’s a Chad Brown, School of Public Policy at U. of M. matches a Chad Brown, former employee at the book front. I’ll tell Hotch,” Penelope hangs up as you stifle another cough, the pain in your chest worsening.

“You did it, now get out of there,” Spencer says and you turn to Dr. Kimura as you let out another cough. Blood splatters on your hand and you wipe it on your pants.

“You said the cure would be hidden somewhere we wouldn’t suspect. What about Nichols’ inhaler?” she walks up with the inhaler as you put Spencer on speaker.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you out here,” he says and you hang up as the two of you walk out of the lab and into the tent where people are ready to spray you down. You let the tears flow freely now that you’re out and the water rolls over you in an attempt to get rid of all the powder that might have stuck. Spencer is outside the tent speaking to Hotch and your father as you get naked and hosed down. Once they’re finished, you’re toweled down and put into a gown as you get on the gurney and are wheeled off to the ambulance.

“Hey, you,” you mutter weakly to Spencer as he walks alongside you. Another cough bursts out of your chest.

“I’m seeing you off to the hospital, the team doesn’t need me,” he states and you nod, taking his hand as they get you into the ambulance. There is a sharp pain in your lungs every time that you move and you cough up blood more and more. The lights in the ambulance are too bright and you feel so hot as Dr. Kimura places her stethoscope on your chest.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Montgomery?” she asks as you fail to hold back another cough.

“I’m obey,” your eyes widen as the words in your head fail to come out of your mouth. “Obey. I fleel fin.”

Your eyes water as you look over at her and then at Spencer who watches you in terror.

“Okay, that’s okay,” she mutters to you before calling out to the driver. “Driver, faster.”

The sound of your heart beating echoes in your head is nausea and dizziness loom over you, making you close your eyes. All the sounds, including Spencer who seems to be calling out to you, dissipate as you drift off into the darkness. At least he would know.

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