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quinloki · 4 months ago

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Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: afab Character: Sabo Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Government Mandated Marriage AU Prompt: Unresolved Sexual Tension Gift Giver: @undeadeurydice

Summary: You and Sabo are getting along well, but while the tension keep building, nothing seems to be able to break it.

Content Notes: harried foreplay, fingering, oral, tension-break, Sabo calls you dove.

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

The first meeting had gone off without much of an issue. You and Sabo got along well enough, and had plenty in common to talk about. Both of you had surrogate guardians at your first meeting, neither of you being on good terms with your own parents. You were able to easily joke about how awful things would’ve been, if including living biological parents were a requirement of the match process.

Moving in together had gone well. His brothers had helped with a lot of heavy lifting, and your friends had helped you both get things organized. The apartment was going to be temporary, but it was less mess to start there than it was to go in on a house before the wedding. Rematches might be rare, but not impossible.

Not that a rematch was your problem.

Nothing, honestly, was wrong between you and Sabo, except maybe you were both on rocky footing when it came to physical interactions. You’d both shown the other your scars, or most of them - best to get something like that out of the way when the point was marriage and eventually children.

But when it came to physical contact, it was almost like it was too much. Your fingers had brushed over one another’s a couple times, and his gloved hands had been on your waist as you’d moved by one another in the kitchen. You both still had separate rooms, which was normal at this point, but as flustered as the light brushes of contact had you both, nothing more had happened.

He was hot, and having seen him shirtless was not helping you and your situation. You wanted more, but more was terrifying. You weren’t dense either, and you were certain he was almost in the same exact boat as you. You both got along well enough, and maybe the Government had simply matched two people who were too similar.

It was all going to fall apart if you couldn’t get it together.

The night before, Sabo had - you think - attempted to break the tension. He’d taken you out on a date, leaving the apartment for a while and “arriving” to pick you up and take you out. It was silly and adorable and sweet all in one. There was dinner, and a movie, and you both had fun. You sat together on the same side of the booth at the restaurant, nearly touching the entire meal.

The conversation wasn’t tense, but the glances here and there, and the trembling need to just touch one another built and built.

In the theater Sabo put his arm around your shoulders, though the divider between seats kept you from leaning into his side. Even with his arm across your shoulders his hand seemed to avoid making contact too often, just the occasional soft tap against your arm when he wanted to lean in and say something about the movie.

At the end, he walked you back up to the apartment door, acted as though he meant to leave you for the night, and leaned in. Closer, and closer, and your eyes slipped along the shape of his lips, your tongue against your own for a moment. You were certain your heart would beat out of your chest, and the soft flush of pink in his face left you thinking he was in the same boat.

Desperate to keep control, and equally desperate to break the tension that had been building between you both since the first meeting. The soft brushes of skin here and there weren’t nearly enough to provide even a modicum of relief.

Before the distance could be overcome, however, your neighbor came out of their apartment. Sabo stepped back and you both greeted the kind older woman. He told her to be careful going out so late, and offered to help if there was an errand she was going to run. She declined, but thanked him, and nothing in her body language suggested that she knew what you two had just been about to do, but when she left the tension was overshadowed by a nervous energy.

It had been a bit painfully awkward, but you both reiterated you had a good time, and then you both turned in for the evening.

In your own rooms.

Not that you really slept all that much. You were awake for hours thinking you should just knock on his door. You should do that, and pull him in and snog him right in the hall. Where no sweet neighbors can interrupt. When he could lean back and welcome you into his room.

Into his bed.

Now you were in the kitchen, the barest hint of sleep keeping you upright as you began to make coffee. You had nothing more than a shirt on and some socks, and barely registered Sabo’s voice as he yawned and came into the kitchen. You mumbled good mornings to one another.

After a few minutes Sabo taps your shoulder.

“Hey, are you actually awake?”

“Mmhm.” You murmur, sleepily.

“Are you sure?” He questions, amusement in his voice.

“M’sure.”

“The coffee’s been done for five minutes, dove.”

“Hmm?” You look up at the tone, giving him a sleepy look. Sabo nearly sucks his lips into his mouth trying not to laugh at how adorable you look, and he points at the coffee machine. You turn to look and realize it’s been done. “Ah.” You manage softly.

“Here, let me make grab cups, and you can sit do-.”

“Sabo?” You interrupt, as he has leaned forward against you to reach the mugs in the cupboard. The warmth of his body is burning through your nightshirt and your mind can’t muster up the energy to be embarrassed right now.

“Hm?”

At least not embarrassed enough to stop you.

“… Kiss me.”

There’s a small flurry of motion as Sabo drops, and catches, the mug in his hand before setting it on the counter. You turn to face him, unable to bring your gaze up despite the courage you’ve found in your sleep deprived haze.

“I… couldn’t sleep last night because I wanted you to kiss me, and,” you murmur, the heat rising into your face and burning away the sleepy haze that had been emboldening you. “And… more.”

“Pardon me,” he says softly, finger hooked under your chin as he lifts it up. There’s no pause, his lips against yours the second he’s positioned your face as needed. The sweet thrill that rushes through you, has your arms around his waist, the two of you pulling one another closer.

The kiss shatters the tension between the both of you, leaving hands to wander, and lips to seek out other sweet places. There was nothing perfectly planned about the kiss, but it was perfect regardless.

Sabo pulls off your nightshirt, barely breaking his lips away from your body any longer than needed, and fans the shirt out on the kitchen before you pull off his boxers. Scarred and strong fingers slip between your thighs and deft movements pull sweet sounds from your lips as you lean against him. The mischievous smile paints his lips for the moments you can see them between the hungry kisses beginning to devour your skin.

He’s down on his knees before you, holding your back against the refrigerator, legs hooked over his shoulders as his mouth is between your thighs before you’ve full grasped that you’re in that position. You gasp and whine, fingers in his hair as his mouth brings the first wave of pleasurable relief through your body.

You tense, body caught between him and the cold metal doors at your back. The cool metal may be the only thing keeping you from burning up. He doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering his name and begging for mercy.

Your mind is hazy from lack of sleep and now the afterglow of an orgasm. Sabo moves you easily as he lays down on the cold, hard kitchen tile, easing you carefully to straddle him. He gives you a few moments to come back around, rubbing his stiff cock slowly against your slit.

When you shift your hips against him in response he grins. “Welcome back.”

“Don’t tease me,” you huff, sinking against his hip more and really grinding into his cock.

“I just didn’t want to go further until you were focused.” He assures you, voice shivering against the pleasure building up in him. “As… as for teasing,” he sighs, as you lift your hips enough to press the head of his length against your entrance.

You reach down and steady him as you sink down slowly. Sabo’s hands are hot against your skin, wondering and touching everything he could, while also helping to keep you stable. His eyes shift from your face, to the sight at his hips, sharp and focused as you took all of him.

A soft swear slips between his teeth as his fingers tighten against you.

“I’m surprised…” You huff softly as you slowly begin to ride him. “I didn’t expect you’d relinquish control like this.”

A soft chuckle escapes Sabo as he holds your hips and thrusts up into you easily, pulling control from you for a moment before he settles again.

“Floor’s hard, is all.”

#birthday request event #birthday request event 2024 #one piece drabble #reader insert #x reader #flame emperor sabo #revolutionary sabo #I kind of resolved the tension at the end #but I couldn't not XD #I was dying and weak and couldn't stop myself

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samaraannhan20 · 8 months ago

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Bucky Barnes imagine: Fate

Warnings: Barton!reader, mentions of torture from Bucky's past, allusions to smut

“Thanks Nat,” I say, walking through the door that she was holding open for me.

“No problem kiddo, looks like you have your hands full,” she says, eyeing everything that I am trying to hold onto without dropping.

“Yeah. I came straight from work. I’m headed to Bucks. He doesn’t know I’m already here though, which is why he isn’t down here helping me. I was supposed to stop at my apartment first, but I just wanted to get here,” I tell her, and she laughs.

“Understandable. I just got back from a run with Yelena and I’m heading to Steve’s. He also doesn’t know I’m already back,” she says, and I laugh.

“Just two girlfriends surprising their men,” I say with a smile, and then follow her into the elevator. She presses the buttons for the two different floors that they’re on, and we make small talk on our way up.

“See you for lunch Friday!” I say as I walk out of the elevator first, leaving her behind in the elevator to go up one more floor. She waves goodbye, and I nod my head because my hands are too full to wave. I watch her laugh as the door closes and walk the remaining feet to Bucky’s door. When I get there I kick it gently with my foot a couple of times, and step back as I hear him walk towards the door.

“Can you take something? I’ve lost feeling in my arm,” I say as soon as he opens the door, not even bothering to say hello. He laughs and takes my water bottle and the bag of food, before moving to hold the door open for me to walk in first. I walk in and drop everything that I was still holding, which was just my school bag and lunchbox, onto the couch. I turn towards him as he puts the food and my water down on the table, and he turns to me with a smile.

“Hi doll,” he says as he walks to where I am standing, stopping just in front of me.

“Hi honey,” I say, stepping to him and wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head in his chest.

“Hard day at school?” he asks after dropping a kiss on the top of my head, and I scoff.

“That doesn’t even begin to explain it. No one wanted to participate in music class today,” I say, and then pull away and walk over to the table and start pulling food out as I keep talking. “Kindergarten was the same as always, which wasn’t so bad. First grade was squirrely, but we got a good amount done. Second grade was the same as first, but we got a little less done. Third grade is where it all started going downhill.”

“Oh no. That’s like the middle of the day,” he says, sitting down across from me, opening his container and grabbing his fork.

“Yep. They had the attention span of a goldfish today and we made it through one song twice before their time was over. Then it was lunch, but I had a student come in for help on a solo, so I didn’t even get to eat. Oh speaking of, I should put my lunch box in the fridge,” I say, and go to stand up, but Bucky reaches out and places his hand on top of mine.

“Eat first. That’s more important,” he says, and I nod and pick up my fork again, taking a bite before speaking up again.

“So then fifth grade came in, and while I was working with one voice part at the piano, some students from the other voice part came over and banged the keys on the side of the piano I wasn’t playing, which pissed me off, and then I yelled at them.”

“That seems fair though,” he says, and I chuckle.

“I was much nicer than I should have been. Then fourth grade came in, and they were insane like normal. I wish I had them before lunch because they’re generally better before then. I had to make them run laps. They were so crazy, and I honestly think that made things worse. But they were my last class, so it wasn’t so bad. I left as soon as the parking lot was empty,” I finish talking and take another bite of food.

“That explains why you were so early. Did you stop at your apartment?”

“No. I got food and came over here. I don’t have school tomorrow anyway, so it's okay. Spring break couldn’t have come at a better time. But enough about me, how was your day?” I ask him, taking another bite.

“Same as usual. I went for a run with Steve and Sam, trained with Nat and Yelena, and then came back here. I had therapy at 2, but then I was done.”

“How was therapy?” I ask him, reaching out to take his hand across the table.

“It was okay. She said I’m almost ready to be done.”

“That’s amazing!” I exclaim, jumping up out of my seat and going around the table to give him a hug. He pushes his seat out from the table, and I sit down in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pull back from the hug and press my lips to his in a short kiss. He pulls me back in for a longer kiss and I laugh into it.

“Are you done eating?” he asks when he pulls away.

“Yeah. Wanna clean this up and then go lay on the couch and watch a movie?”

“I’m never going to say no to that question,” he says, and I laugh, standing up and starting to clean up the boxes that were scattered across the table. I walk over to the table and grab my lunchbox, taking the container of food out of it and opening the fridge. I put my lunch in, and then reach over to Bucky for the leftovers that need to go in. He hands them to me, and I put them in, before grabbing a beer for Bucky and a soda for myself and closing the fridge.

“Here,” I say, handing him the beer and setting my soda down on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go change.” He nods and leans forward to grab the remote, and I turn to head into his bedroom. When I get in there I grab one of his t-shirts from the drawer, and a pair of the shorts that I keep here, and quickly change.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Can we watch something really random?” I ask a couple hours later after our movie ended.

“What is it?” he asks with a small laugh.

“Maybe… Taylor Swift music videos?” I mumble, and he lets his head drop back and barks out a laugh. “Hey! Most of them are movie quality! We could even watch the All Too Well short film!” I exclaim, and he laughs even harder.

“Yeah doll,” he says when he can finally catch his breath. “We can watch music videos. But do you wanna go watch them in the bedroom? I’m getting kinda tired,” he says, and I jump up.

“Of course we can! Let's go cuddle in your bed!” I say, grabbing his hand and dramatically pulling him up and towards the bedroom. He lets me yank him, and when I yank him close enough to me he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. I laugh and hit his back as he laughs and carries me into the bedroom, and then drops me onto his bed. I scoot up to the top of the bed, and flop back onto the pillows, still laughing.

“Can I ask you something?” I say as Bucky settles in next to me on the bed.

“Of course,” he responds, and wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to him.

“How come I’m the only person you’re this calm and carefree with?” I ask, and he just stares straight ahead, absentmindedly rubbing my shoulder. “I mean, you’re also kind of like that with Steve, but not at the same level as with me.”

“I don’t know that I have a full answer for that doll. I guess I’m just more comfortable with you. For a long time I didn’t imagine I’d ever get the chance to fall in love again, but then you came along and here we are.” I turn my head to look at him, and stretch up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You have shown me the love I only dreamed of. I’ve always loved reading romance books. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic at heart, but I never fully expected to find that fairytale romance. But with you, I did. And just think, if my stinky older brother wasn’t an Avenger, we never would have met,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Who knew Barton had an amazingly beautiful, kindhearted, caring sister hiding out with his family?” he says, and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“Me either. Not even my niece or nephews. The world really knew what it was doing, in the long run. Although I don’t think that you needed to be tortured in order for us to be together. I think that was just overkill,” I say, sitting up and leaning forward and looking into his eyes.

“If I wasn’t tortured I would have died, and then we never would have met. I’m not saying I’m glad I was turned into the Winter Soldier, but I am glad that it brought me to you.”

“I love you, “I say, as I lean forward and connect our lips.

“I love you,” he says, and the pulls me back in, rolling us over on the bed.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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hyperpotamianarch · 3 months ago

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Well, I can hardly believe I chose this to be my fourth original post, but meh, who cares. Anyway, random note about Howell Jenkins!

Firstly, I'm talking about book Howl, which is why I spelled it Howell - this is his original name, he changed it in Ingary to sound more impressive. He's actually from Wales, which honestly means little to me as someone who never set foot in Britain, but I think I get the general gist of it.

Many things can be said of Howl. He's not really a noble and gentle, if slightly narcissistic, person as you might think after watching the movie. He's mostly a selfish coward, likes to woo ladies but seemingly afraid of commitment, is very bad with money, and... Umm... Yeah, there are other posts that do a better job than I am in characterizing Howl. That's not what I'm here to talk about. Suffice it to say that he's somehow likable in spite of all these flaws.

What I am here to talk about, however, is two common misconceptions about Howl that are somewhat related to the flaws listed above: one is that Howl is running away from student debt and didn't finish his doctorate, and the other is that he invented the titular Moving Castle to evade taxes. While those actions are indeed in character for Howl, they are both contradicted by the book itself (to a degree).

To start with the first one: Howell only talks about his thesis once in the book - when explaining to miss Angorian, an English teacher, why he has a magic spell. Book readers likely know who I'm talking about, and for non book readers, I'm afraid I'll leave the rest of the context to your imagination. Either way, Howell tells miss Angorian that she may have heard that he wrote his doctoral thesis on charms and spells. Notice, "wrote". As in past tense.

To be fair, that doesn't necessarily mean he finished his doctorate. As a matter of fact, it could be a rumor he started in order to explain away why he had spell books. It certainly won't be the first rumor Howl started for his own convenience. But if it tells us anything about him having a doctorate, it tells us he finished it. I don't know much about student loans in UK during the 80's, so that isn't a point I can say anything about, but I am given to understand it was less of a problem.

So, did Howl run away from his doctorate to the magical land if Ingary? No, he didn't. He actually kind of fulfilled every nerd's dream of both doing what he likes most and using it to write his doctoral thesis, killing two birds with one stone. To be honest, what I still don't get is why he kept contact with his old world. I mean, Suliman seems to have cut ties - we never hear of him going back. But Howl, even if we didn't see him use the black door as much at first, seems to keep some contact with his sister and her family, keep a car etc. He might only visit rarely, but he still does.

Anyway, for the second misconception I decided to bring in the big guns: a direct book quote about why the moving castle. Not all quotes on the topic, though, because I'm lazy. Anyway, look here:

This is in chapter four of HMC. It's revealed later in the book that the "someone very powerful" is actually the Witch of the Waste. So, the Moving Castle is there to show everyone what a Horrible and Powerful Wizard Howl is. Also, to avoid attention from the Witch of the Waste.

Sophie herself, in the next paragraph, questions the usefulness of such a tactic. I think it might actually be an explanation of why Howl decided the Castle had to be moving - maybe it's harder to magically detect that way, I don't know. Either way, it's not to avoid taxes - especially considering the fact Howl has an address in Kingsbury, the capital of Ingary, and that this address is known to the local authorities.

I would also like to prematurely dispell an almost plausible headcanon: Sophie's hat-sewing causes so much of the plot, after all. So you might be tempted, when reading that she told a hat that someone should set Howl and the Witch up together, to think that she's responsible for that as well. However, considering the quote presented above, it appears that Howl and the Witch dated before Howl created the Moving Castle, which was the inciting incident for Sophie hearing about him. Thus, Sophie is not guilty whatsoever of getting Howl and the Witch together - just of being oddly on point.

Thank you for reading, and have a good day!

#howl's moving castle #hmc book #diana wynne jones #howell jenkins #howl pendragon #Horrible Howl #The moving castle #dwj #hmc

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thomasshelbydrabbles · 2 years ago

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Everything’s a Negotiation (Part 1/?)

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x OC

Warnings: series typical violence

Summary: Mackenzie Theil’s cousin is in debt to Tommy and in order to save his own life, he offers up Mackenzie's services. Unfortunately for Mackenzie, she piqued Tommy’s interest.

Word Count: 3096

A/N: I know I just finished The Messenger and left it on a huge cliff hanger, but I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for a while. Figured I’d put it out there before I lose the muse again.

A/N 2: Let me know if you want on the tag list for this one. I have not a single clue about how long this one will be or even really where it’s going, so join me on this adventure?

Mac glanced up at the sound of her office door opening. Three men in smartly tailored suits sauntered into her office, followed closely by her assistant who looked more than a bit irritated.

“Sorry, Miss Theil, they wouldn’t wait for me to ring you, and they don’t have an appointment.”

Mac rounded her desk, forced smile on her face. “No worries, Katie. Hold my calls, will you?”

With a grateful smile at the dismissal, her assistant nodded as she hurried from the room. The door clicked closed, and they stood for a moment looking at each other. She took in their smart suits - clearly dressed as businessmen, but the way they held themselves, their positions around the room, as though expecting her to make a run for the door or the window…

“What can I do for you gentlemen, or am I meant to know why it is you’re here?”

“Do you know Rodney Bouchard?”

Mac moved to perch on the edge of her desk. She crossed her arms as she looked at them. The one who spoke had a toothpick between his teeth, and a cheeky sort of smile on his face. The one with the mustache, looked dangerous even though he’d not made a single threatening move stood with his arms crossed in front of him. Number three, the blue-eyed man who acted completely unaffected and uninterested in everything happening in the office, stood closest to the door.

“‘Course I do or you’d be in someone else’s office upsetting their staff.”

“He’s found himself in a spot of trouble, and seems to believe you’ll be able to see him from it.”

“And if I were to refuse?”

The one who’d been speaking glanced over his shoulder. Ah. Now she knew who was actually in charge now. The one with the devastatingly blue eyes.

“Rodney made a deal with us when he couldn’t pay. Offered your services as payment.”

“Unfortunate for him,” Mac said, her fingers dug into the wood. “My services aren’t his to offer.”

“Your cousin is in a lot of fuckin’ trouble with us.”

Mac nodded. That bit she understood. “I’m not the solution to his problem.”

“You refusin’ to help your cousin?”

Mac pushed from the desk, squared her shoulders. This whole thing was ridiculous. Fucking Rodney and his idiot schemes, pulling her into it.

“Did he think I’d care? Honestly, did he think I’d give a shit about him? That he’d have you come here to my place of work like something out of The Godfather and I’d be so overcome with sympathy for the fucking bastard that I’d just agree to get him out of whatever mess it is he’s gotten himself into?”

The blue-eyed man moved away from the door, stopped less than a foot from where Mac still leaned against the front edge of her desk. He pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it. She curled her lip, but didn’t call him on it.

“That’s exactly what he told us, love.”

Her eyes blinked up to his as he spoke. Damn he was attractive. Like he sucked all the air out of the room. Making himself the center of everything.

“How much does he owe you?” Her voice came out softer than it had been.

“Not your money we’re after.”

“Glad that’s sorted because I wasn’t offering to pay you.”

Their eyes met. He unnerved her, and her heart raced in her chest. Yet, they’d come in the middle of the workday, so she highly doubted they planned to shoot her here in her office.

“Work for us, love; we clear your cousin’s debt.”

“No.”

“I don’t think you understand.” This time his voice was soft, gentle even.

“I understand enough. Look,” Mac said as she moved carefully away from where she felt oddly trapped between her desk his body even though he hadn’t made a move to touch her. “I’m a business owner, and you gentlemen are…businessmen, but I didn’t come to you for money, so your business with my cousin has nothing to do with me.”

“Must be quite the bastard if you’re refusing to help him.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “Whether he is or isn’t, my answer remains the same. If you have no further business here, gentlemen, I’ll ask you to leave.”

He took a step back, regarding her closely as though trying to find what made her tick. A cloud of smoke passed his lips and Mac wanted to look away, she also wanted to trace his lips with her tongue, but was far too sensible to act on such foolish thoughts. Why did the bad ones always have to be so fucking attractive?

“Fair enough,” he spoke.

Then they were gone as abruptly as they’d arrived. As though her string had been cut, Mac fell heavily against her desk, desperately trying to get her breathing back under control. What a fool she was. How much trouble had she made for herself? Talking to men like that the way she did?

“Katie!”

Her assistant hurried into the room. “Should I call security?”

Mac waved her hand dismissively. “No. Do pull the security feeds from the main door and send them to me, will you?”

“Are you sure - ”

“The last thing any of us needs is the authorities getting involved. As far as you are concerned, those men were never here. Best you let me handle this.”

Katie looked unconvinced but nodded before leaving the office.

When Mac received the security footage a few minutes later, she isolated the frames with their faces. She lingered a bit on the blue-eyed man’s face, taking in its angles. Pulling up her software, she ran a search. It didn’t take long for the results to come back and as she began reading through them, she marveled again at how lucky she was to still be breathing. Dangerous men had been in her office, and she’d told them no. Damn Rodney for getting her involved in whatever foolishness he’d managed. Maybe they’d simply take the pound of flesh owed to them and forget all about her.

Glancing down once more at his piercing gaze, she knew that outcome was unlikely.

Later that evening, Mac sat at the bar sipping her G&T. She’d spent the afternoon reading every article she could find about the Peaky Blinders, and the more she’d read, the more she wanted to shake her idiot cousin until something like common sense emerged. Rodney must have borrowed an insane amount of money, or mouthed off one too many times to have Thomas Shelby and his brothers collecting on his debts. At least she knew names and didn’t have to keep referring to them as “blue-eyes”, “mustache man”, and “toothpick”.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sydney said as she slid onto the stool next to Mac. “Couldn’t get out of the shop on time. Working for family is the absolute worst sometimes.”

Mac laughed. “You adore working with your brother.”

“Yes, but he’s a diva.”

“Another thing you adore about him…”

“Not when it has me late for drinks.”

Looking down at her half-empty glass, Mac swirled the liquid around.

“What do you know about the Peaky Blinders?”

Sydney’s eyes grew wide and her eyes darted around quickly. “Christ what a question. And before I’ve even got a drink in front of me.”

“They were in my office today.”

“What?”

Mac nodded. “Thomas, Arthur, and John Shelby were stood in my office this morning.”

“Why?”

She wanted to laugh at the monosyllabic questions, but the whole day had been surreal.

“Rodney.”

“That fucking cunt.”

Mac snorted, but it was an apt description. “Apparently he owes them money, and in some twisted sort of 1700s bullshit, he offered them my services to clear his debt.”

Sydney flagged down the bartender and order herself a wet martini and another G&T for Mac. Turning to face her, Sydney wiggled her eyebrows.

“Which services were they after?”

“Shut up you slag, I doubt it was anything like that. Men like that have their choice of women. No, I think Rodney ran his mouth about Stronghold, promised them I’d work off his debt.”

“What work are you doing for them?”

Mac shook her head. “Nothing. Told them no. Rodney can fix his own fucking mess.”

“Christ you’ve some balls on you.”

The longer she’d thought about her decision, the more she agreed with Sydney, but she still felt she’d made the right decision. Rodney was volatile at the best of times, and engaging with the Peaky Blinders would only add fuel to that fire. Besides, it wasn’t any of her fucking business. She drained the last of her drink. They spent the next couple of hours catching up on the rest of their weeks before calling it a night.

At home, Mac looked at herself in the mirror. Times like this she wished her father were still around. He’d know how to handle the situation, both the Shelbys and fucking Rodney. A bad egg, he’d always called her wayward cousin. She quickly removed her contacts, sighing in relief. Placing her glasses on her nose, she frowned at the dark circles under her bright green eyes. Nothing to be done for it now, she turned away and padded over to her bed.

Zeus lifted his head and she heard the soft thump of his tail against the duvet. Sliding into the bed, she reached over to scratch between his ears.

“Good boy, yeah, it was a long day. I can’t have you in the office every day. You’re a distraction.”

He nosed against her hand. She laughed. “Course I know it’s my fault. You’re just too damned cute.”

It was a bit silly to call an 80-pound German Shepard cute, but he had the most adorable eyes that retained the puppy look he’d had when she’d first got him.

Sometime in the night, a noise woke her. Beside her Zeus sat alert, ears up, body poised to jump. Listening she heard the sound of something falling to the floor and a muted curse. Figuring it was Sydney, she slid from the bed, grabbed her glasses from the bedside table, and pulled her robe around her body.

Glancing back at Zeus she said, “Bleib.”

Ignoring his whine, she moved towards the living room, turning on lights as she went. At the entry to the living room, she froze. Disheveled, covered in blood and dirt, Rodney swayed on his feet as he leaned against the wall. She noted the bottle dangling from his fingers and cursed.

“You’re a fucking bitch!”

“What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

“Picked the lock.”

Mac’s eyebrows shot up. As drunk as he was, it was a minor miracle he’d managed that. But, as she stepped more fully into the room, she noticed the door to her flat was open, his lockpicks hanging from the keyhole.

“What do you want, Rodney?”

“Had to tell them no, didn’t you? Saint Mackenzie can’t get her fuckin’ hands dirty.”

“Fuck off. I’m not cleaning up your mess.”

“They’ll kill me, Mac.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Not my problem. Should have thought about all that before you went around borrowing money from the Peaky Blinders.”

The knife he pulled from the waist of his pants and pointed at her shouldn’t have surprised her - he’d sent gangsters to her office for Christ’s sake, but it did. She took a stumbling step back, hands out in front of her. Zeus came bounding into the room, barking, ears back, teeth on display. He jumped at him, bit his teeth deep into Rodney’s arm. With a yell, he reared back, tried to shake the dog from his arm. Stupid move, but her cousin wasn’t the brightest member of the family.

“Call him off!”

“NO!”

“I’ll shoot him.”

Mac felt her heartbeat accelerate. How many weapons did Rodney have on him? She blinked and Rodney held a gun in his shaking hand.

“Aus!”

After a moment in which Mac thought Zeus might not obey her, he released Rodney. He came to sit next to her, muzzle red with blood.

“What now? You’re in control here.”

“Yeah, I’m in control and you’re doing to do as your fuckin’ told for once in your life.”

Mac nodded, her hands still up in surrender. “Okay, Rodney. Okay.”

“Get on your knees, and fucking beg me not to shoot you like the bitch you are.”

She grit her teeth.

“Do it, or I’ll shoot the fucking dog first, make you watch you miserable piece of shit.”

“Okay, okay,” Mac said as she dropped to her knees. “Don’t shoot him.”

“God, look at you, fucking pathetic, innit? But, not more than you deserve.”

Mac bit her lip. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to take a deep breath. Of the ways she’d thought she might die, on her knees next to Zeus with fucking Rodney holding the gun wasn’t one of them.

“Drop it.”

Mac’s eyes snapped up at the sound of his voice. Thomas Shelby stood behind Rodney, face a mask of anger. She watched the way Rodney’s whole body froze, the way his hand shook, his unsteady finger too close to the trigger to allow her to relax. She spared a quick look at Zeus who stood next to her, teeth bared, low growl from his lips. Taking the distraction, she threw herself over Zeus. She heard a shot go off, braced for a bullet to pierce through her.

Nothing.

Then the sound of a body hitting the floor. Still, she couldn't move. She was frozen where she lay protecting Zeus. A gentle hand on her shoulder startled her, she screamed, Zeus moved from under to stand protectively over her, teeth bared, barking a warning.

“Mind calling your dog off, love?”

Moving to her knees, she nodded. “Aus!”

With a soft whimper, Zeus stopped. He moved to her and licked her face. “Yes, you’re a good boy.”

A hand appeared in her line of vision. As she placed hers in his, a tingle raced up her spine as their fingers touched. He gently helped her to her feet, steadying her as she found her balance. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rodney’s body laying on the ground. She looked up at Thomas Shelby.

“Is he dead?”

“Would it trouble you if he was?”

This close she could feel the timber of his voice along her skin, feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, smell whatever cologne he used, something musky, like leather and a winter night’s fire.

“Not as much as it should.”

His arm wrapped around her waist holding her to him. “He’ll be fine after he wakes up.”

“Can he not wake up here?”

“‘Course, love. I’ll have the lads come take care of ‘im. Won’t let him bother you again.”

Mac turned slightly, felt his hand slide along her back, moving with her. She wanted to like it a bit less than she did. Nothing about this was a good idea. But she couldn't deny how his arm around her made her feel safe and protected, as though he’d keep her from harm.

“How ‘bout I buy you a drink, eh?”

The hand not around her waist, knuckled under her chin, his thumb traced the apple of her cheek. Her head nodded jerkily, agreeing before she’d actually thought it through. Before she could take it back, or not, he’d swept her from the room. Neither said anything as he placed her in the front seat of his Bentley, or during the drive to whatever pub he had in mind. She couldn’t find words. Of all the things she expected from Rodney, none of them good, holding a gun to her head, to Zeus’? How could she have expected that?

He opened the door, held his hand out to her. She didn't remember them parking. When she placed her hand in his, she did remember the familiar tingle at their touch. What was she doing? This was crazy. But she didn’t protest as he settled his arm around her again, as though he were entitled to it, as though she were his.

Various people greeted him, a chorus of Mister Shelby’s trailed them as he led her to a secluded corner of the pub. They’d barely sat before two lowball glasses with a healthy measure of whisky were placed on the table. Mac’s fingers trembled a bit as she reached for the closest one and tossed it back. She made a face at the taste, but appreciated the burn, the warmth as it settled in her stomach. Just as she enjoyed the way the warmth of Thomas Shelby’s body pressed against her helped return feeling to her.

“Alright, love?”

She made a noise that indicated something, but it must not have been convincing - or even English because he nudged the other glass of whiskey toward her. She took it without a thought and knocked it back.

“God, I hate whiskey.”

His laugh was warm, and close. Why did she never want to leave his arms?

“I feel like I ought to say thank you.”

“Is that right?”

She glanced at him. “Don’t know what I would have done if he’d shot Zeus, so thank you.”

He held her gaze. She lost herself in the blue of them. In the morning, when the shock of the night had passed and the trauma took its place, she’d sort out her feelings about Thomas Shelby. Tonight, she’d enjoy the way he kept her together.

“Tonight, at my apartment. How’d you know he’d be there?”

“Had men following him.”

Mac narrowed her eyes at him.

“Just him, Mister Shelby?”

Instead of responding, he lit a cigarette. He had another one of those inscrutable looks on his face.

“I take the safety of my employees quite seriously, Miss Theil.”

It was her turn to smirk. “I don’t work for you.”

“Not yet.”

“What exactly is it you want from me, Mister Shelby?”

He leaned in, gently took her face in his hands, and captured her lips with his. As he did when he wrapped his arms around her, Thomas Shelby kissed as though he already owned her, as though she’d been his forever. She melted into it, swayed her body into his, sunk her fingers into his hair as he continued to plunder her mouth.

“Wanted to do that since we walked into your office this morning,” his voice whispered against her lips.

“That wasn’t an answer.”

With a smirk, he pressed his lips to her again.

Part 2

Master List

#tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby

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quettasecond · 1 year ago

Text

LC PART 1 SUMMARY

the prologue is a hint towards eis existence! shes not mentioned at all in part one as she isnt actually. introduced yet and hasnt made her way to where everything is happening, but the prologue implies her existence! it follow an unnamed girl who "reawakened" and is covered in dirt (meant to imply she. you know. dug herself out of the ground)

in chapter one, aib and her soon-to-be-dead friend, ichimi, are hanging out in a bathroom together after aib was browsing her parents personal emails. ichimi mentioned knowing someone other than aib and she had to suppress her anger. also rereading this in some lines it feels ichimi has a hint of... innocence? is that the word? that you might associate with ei, and it reminds me of weird ei-ichimi paralells that probably arent actually paralells i just dont know what other word to use. ichimi was actually named after ei (i talked about it in a different post). aib is referring to this one barely mentioned side character via surname meanwhile ichimi is calling them their given name, interesting thing about aib being more distant about. everyone i guess. and ichimi being warm and friendly

still on chapter oen sorry just a new bullet point becayse thats a lot of words there. i almost didnt realise the car situation was gonna happen in this chapter. how could i forget. talking about her parents and her relationship, aibreann said "[we] seemed less like a family and more like roommates, if you could even call [us] that". then she ran across a busy street because she was impacient, and suddenly a strange guy knocked into her (to save her from a car that was going to hit her) and asked her what her problem is. his foot got run over and aib immediately went Omg awesome gorey foot... like there were two paragraphs dedicated to aib thinking about the gore. he then picked her up to carry her to her address, aibreanm thought "i shouldnt tell a stranger my address" then did exactly that. also i remember someone i showed like just this chapter to thought this man was aibs father LOL unfortunately not

chap 2. the man introduced himself as kane. he had to tell her that her knees got scraped and were kind of bloody cuz she didnt notice. shes so aggressive(? well not exactly aggressive shes just swearing internally and rolling her eyes and stuff) and sarcastic to him. he tucked aibreann in with a blanket and is leaving blood all over the floor from walking around. he made her tea and tended to her scrapes. then he started to realise Oh fuck my foot hurts and he left. she tried to mop all the blood kane left all over the floor before her dad gets home but she fails and kind of trips and falls into the blood and her dad comes home and she gets up and limps away

i just realised this is probably gonna be kind of long lol... well no read more for you my followers must be strong enough to handle one billion words of oc stuff at once

chap 3. were immediately hit by multiple paragraphs of exposition. maybe i couldve done that better instead of having aib internally monologue about her magic bs but whatever this was written like one a 2/3rds of a year ago. now shes starting to wonder if things would be better if she was dead. two new one time side characters that just exist to be talked about once mentioned. honestly if i ever went over part 1 and rewrote part of it i might just remove these two. which luckily means i just remove a few sentences in one chapter. their "existence" was fine before but now im starting to feel these random people being mentioned fucks with what i started to build up afterwards yk. she changes into a clean uniform and mentions she usually ditches the sweatervest with hers. now shes wanting to die again

i hear my nephew outside my door i might see whats up with him goodbye to this post for now

#gurgles #lc

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stelladoesstuff · 2 years ago

Note

Hii!! I saw your post about fic requests, I was wondering if you'd like to write about Franziska having to babysit Pearls while Maya's away? In my head this is in a franmaya context but I honestly don't mind it if it's not. Happy writing!!

Kinda took this one and ran with it, ended up a bit longer than I’d intended but hey, that’s what happens sometimes! XD

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Word Count: 4203

~ ao3 link ~

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Franziska von Karma was not the type of woman to fret over someone else. She was headstrong, independent, and fearless–everything that the title of ‘von Karma’ stood for. She didn’t waste her time worrying about other people’s business because it was their responsibility to deal with it.

However, when she received a text from one Maya Fey, her girlfriend, saying that there was an ‘emergency’ and she needed to ‘come quick,’ Franziska, definitely not in a rush, hailed an uber and made it to Wright and Co. Law Offices in exactly ten minutes. Not a second more or less, as is expected of a perfect prosecutor.

When she reached the door, she raised her fist to knock, but the door swung open before she could even bring her fist against wood. What a shame, she’d been perfecting her knocking technique.

“Franzy! Thank goodness!” Maya looked frazzled to say the least. Her hair, which typically appeared silky smooth, stuck up in a few places, making Franziska want to reach out and smooth it back down. Her hand twitched as she fought her own impulse for a moment, but Maya had been working with her to stop pushing down such childish–no, such normal impulses. As such, Franziska brought her hand up to smooth Maya’s hair back down.

“Maya Fey, you look a mess.” She shook her head, suppressing a smile that tried to sneak onto her face. Even so, Maya let out a tired giggle.

“Yeah, yeah I know.” She sighed, leaning into Franziska’s hand. “Look, Franzy, I know it’s… really sudden, but can I ask you a favor?”

Anything at all. Played in Franziska’s head.

“Of what variety?” Franziska replied instead, allowing herself one more moment of running her fingers through Maya’s hair before taking her hand back. Maya sighed, turning around to walk back inside and gesturing for her to follow.

“Well, you see, apparently there’s some emergency going on in Kurain Village. Something about some spirit getting out of hand, people panicking, etcetera etcetera–” Maya made a circular motion with her wrist, emphasizing the words. “--anyway, skipping the boring stuff ‘cause I didn’t even pick up half of the details over the phone, they need me to head over and ‘use my Fey bloodline powers’ to clean things up. Problem is, Nick’s currently out with the flu, and…”

“Mystic Maya!” Franziska absolutely did not freeze up when she heard the familiar young voice. Turning her head a tad bit too sharply, she spotted one Pearl Fey pointing at Wright’s absurd office plant. “Mystic Maya, one of the leaves is slightly wilted! Charley is dying!” The girl wailed, not even seeming to notice Fraziska’s presence, and Maya shot Franziska an apologetic smile.

“...I could only snag one train ticket back to the village at the next earliest time.” As the pieces clicked into place in Franziska’s head, Pearl finally noticed there was another person in the room, and her eyes widened as her wailing suddenly gave way to silence. The three of them stood there in a silent standoff before Pearl shuffled over to Maya, grabbing her arm and slightly pulling her away.

“Mystic Maya, you said you were gonna find someone to stay with me.” Pearl seemed to be trying to whisper, but it was loud enough that anyone in the room would have been able to hear it.

“I did! Pearl, you remember Franzy-”

“NO!” Pearl screamed, stomping her foot and pouting. “Nonono! Someone ELSE!” Maya, however, didn’t seem fazed by this in the slightest, likely having expected it. She would have been foolish not to, after all. Ever since Franziska started dating Maya, Pearl had been the number one protestor to their relationship, insisting this was just an evil ploy from Franziska to ‘steal Mystic Maya’s heart away from Mr. Nick.”

Though, perhaps even more foolish than that was the foolish idea to have Franziska babysit this foolish fool.

“C’mon, Pearly! She’s the only person I can get on such short notice, do you really wanna stay by yourself-”

“Yes!” Pearl huffed, crossing her arms, though a slight tremor in her voice revealed her true intentions. “I’d rather stay here by myself than with that soulmate stealer.” Maya shot Franziska a helpless look. Only Maya Fey could make Franziska von Karma cave with a single look.

“Hmph, fine.” Franziska mimicked Pearl, crossing her arms in return. “I’ll just leave then, and you can enjoy your weekend alone. Farewell, Pearl Fey.” Maya squawked in protest as Franziska walked purposefully towards the door. In her head, she started counting. Three… two… one…

“W-wait!” There it was. Franziska smirked, the wonderful feeling of being right rising in her chest as she one again turned sharply on her heel, looking down at the girl. Pearl Fey was staring at the ground, shuffling her feet. “Fine. I’ll… w… v…” Her words were so quiet Franziska couldn’t make them out, but seemingly audible enough for Maya to hear them, because a relieved smile crossed her girlfriend’s face.

“Thank you, Pearly.” She crouched down and wrapped Pearl in her arms, the younger cousin quickly returning the hug. “I’ll be back before you know it, ok? Promise.”

“...pinky promise?” Maya chuckled, leaning back and holding out her pinky finger.

“Pinky promise.” The two joined pinky fingers, Pearl looking like she was about to start crying again. Pinky promise complete, Maya stood again, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check the time- and gasped.

“Shoot! I have to be at the train station in thirty minutes.” She scrambled for her bag that was strewn across the couch, slinging it across her shoulder and all but running out the door, stopping only for a second to give Franziska a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Franzy. I owe you one.”

There was no time for a reply. As soon as Maya walked out the door, Franziska was left under the harsh gaze of Pearl Fey. Neither of them moved as Franziska started coming up with a carefully formulated plan in her head. It was quite simple-

Step one, leave the office and return to her apartment with Pearl Fey in tow. Step two, show her where the guest bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom are. Step three, wait for Maya to return. Flawless in every way.

“Come. My apartment is ten minutes from here.” Franziska made for the door, opening it and taking a few steps outside before realizing there were no footsteps following behind her. Refusing to backtrack, she simply turned around, looking back through the door. “What is the issue?”

“I can’t leave Charley here! He’ll die!” Pearl pouted, gesturing to the abomination of a plant in the corner. It looked completely fine save for one slightly wilted leaf.

“The foliage will be fine.”

“No! He’ll die if we leave him alone!” Pearl wailed, running over and throwing her arms around the base of the pot. “Mystic Maya said it’s her duty to keep him alive in memory of Mystic Mia! If he dies while she’s gone I’ll have failed herrrr.”

The child was hugging a potted plant and sobbing. Franziska huffed, stomping back inside and resigning herself to dealing with this. The girl clearly wasn’t going to leave the plant here willingly, and she couldn’t just drag her kicking and screaming into a cab… well- no. No, that would be the cheap way out. She had half a mind to just whip the plant and put it out of its misery, but that would get them nowhere.

So, if she couldn’t drag the girl into the cab… this was a terrible idea.

Franziska immediately blamed Phoenix Wright for the turmoil she was about to endure.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, Franziska finally unlocked the door to her apartment. Double the time it should have taken, but it had happened. She ushered Pearl in before turning back to the hallway, crouching down, and picking that godforsaken potted plant up for what would hopefully be the last time.

Somehow, they’d managed to find an uber driver that both had a car large enough to carry the foliage, and also allowed them to bring it in. Perfect as always, Franziska had supplied the driver with a generous tip. Her clothes were partially coated in a layer of plant dirt, and her hair was frizzed from being whacked by leaves, but she’d successfully gotten Pearl to her apartment.

Not quite flawless, but the original goal was achieved flawlessly.

Foolish plant.

After carefully setting down the plant right by the window, as per Pearl’s insistence, Franziska closed and locked her apartment door before placing the apartment keys in the bowl right next to it. Perfect. Smiling slightly to herself, she turned back around to enact step two of the already slightly strayed-from plan-

Only to see that the girl had climbed onto the kitchen counter and was attempting to grab a glass from one of the higher cupboard shelves.

“Pearl Fey!” Franziska scolded, and Pearl froze, slowly turning her head with a guilty look on her face like a kid caught stealing candy. “Get down from there this instant!”

“I need a cup to water Charley with!” The girl protested, turning back around. Franziska, having enough of this, stomped over and scooped the girl up, placing her back on the floor despite her protests. She then reached up, opened a different cupboard, took out a plastic cup, filled it with water using the sink, and held it out to the girl. Pearl stared at it like it was an alien.

“Well? Here’s your foolish cup to water your foolish plant.” She pushed the cup against Pearl’s chest, and Pearl instinctively grabbed it, eyes still fixated on it. Slowly, she looked up at Franziska, a completely neutral expression on her face, before turning around and walking towards the plant without a word.

Hmph. Fine, then. A von Karma doesn’t need a ‘thank you’ anyway.

~~~

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly. Franziska showed Pearl where she’d be sleeping, where the food in the kitchen was, and where the bathroom was, exactly as planned. The cup for watering the abomination was left sitting on the windowsill next to it, and Pearl spent most of the afternoon sitting and talking to the plant, occasionally inspecting its wilting leaf. She was an odd child, but at least she could entertain herself.

Franziska didn’t have the faintest clue how she would have entertained a child otherwise, not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. Except maybe Maya. Maybe.

Even so, time passed quite quickly, Franziska deciding to do some light reading in the living room to keep an eye on Pearl, and soon enough dinnertime came around. Franziska preferred to eat at precisely 8:00pm when she wasn’t planning on eating out, and planned to stick to that schedule as best she could. However, the challenge came when she realized she had to feed not only herself, but also the girl currently telling a plant a story about some prince.

“And then, the prince swung at the dragon! He couldn’t let it take the princess, she was the love of his life!” Blech. Children and their little romance stories. Disgusting.

What exactly did children eat? Pizza? Candy? Marshmallows?

“Pearl Fey.” It was better to just ask than fumble around. Pearl paused in her story, looking over at Franziska warily. “What do you eat for dinner?”

“Uh… food?” Pearl said, cocking her head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yes, I gathered that. What type of food?”

“I just eat whatever Mystic Maya makes, or whatever is available at the temple.” Pearl shrugged, and Franziska repressed a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t helping.

“Fine. I will ask it another way, then. What do you want to eat for dinner?” This time, Pearl didn’t answer right away, her face scrunching up as if she was deep in thought. Then, she perked up.

“Mac and cheese!” Hm. Simple, both adult and child friendly, and Franziska knew she had a box of it in the pantry. Perfect.

“Good.” She said, marking her place in her book before standing from the couch. “It will be ready in ten minutes. Finish speaking with the foliage by then.” Pearl nodded, turning back to Charley and going right back into her tale.

Mac and cheese sounded pretty good right now.

~~~

Dinner went flawlessly, as to be expected. Pearl had downed her mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a hungry child, and had let out a huge yawn almost immediately afterwards. Franziska, ever the attentive host, has taken this as a sign to get the girl to bed. Pearl had gone with only a small bit of protest on account of leaving Charley alone for the night, but her tiredness had quickly gotten the best of her.

Now, Franziska sat on her own bed, having changed into her night clothes and turned all the other house lights out apart from the one on her bedside table. She’d thought it best to move her reading to her bed so as to not disturb the sleeping child, lest she wake up an irritable Pearl. She finished the book she had been reading before glancing at the clock, seeing it was just past 10:00pm. Not quite tired yet, she took out her phone and decided to scroll through the day’s news articles to try and find something interesting… creak.

She heard footsteps in the hallway, then the bathroom door opening. Confused, she glanced over at her door–Pearl had gone to bed hours ago. Perhaps she had woken up to use the bathroom? Silence followed, and Franziska decided to disregard the noise, turning back to her phone.

At least, until she heard the faint sound of sniffling coming from the hall. Shoot.

Staring at the door for a moment, Franziska hesitated. She knew, at least partially, what was going on: Pearl was crying for some reason. Why? No clue. Perhaps she was missing Maya? Or she had a certain part of her nighttime routine that Franziska had missed that set her off? Or maybe she fell out of the bed and hurt herself?

Whatever it was, Pearl was choosing to hide in the bathroom instead of seeking out Franziska’s help. Despite Franziska’s bedroom light very clearly being on, it wasn’t like she’d have to wake her up or anything. It could mean it’s something personal that Pearl didn’t want to share with her, and getting up to help would be intruding on that privacy.

However, this was a child currently in Franziska’s care. And god forbid Franziska let a child continue crying when she can do something about it–she wasn’t her father, after all. Shuffling out of bed, she quietly creaked open her own door, taking soft steps toward the bathroom so as to not startle Pearl.

The bathroom door was closed, and upon slightly jiggling the handle, also locked. The movement of the doorknob caused the sniffling inside to go silent, though a few choked sobs could be heard through the door, as if Pearl was covering her mouth with her hands to suppress the noise. Franziska stopped to think–she had to handle this correctly. Walking away now wouldn’t help anything, but she had no idea what she could do.

It wasn’t like she’d had caring parents to show her what to do in a situation like this. Whenever she’d cried as a kid, she’d had to hide from her father or risk being punished for it. A von Karma didn’t cry… but Franziska did. As a child, she had quite a bit. It had been lonely before Miles Edgeworth had come along, with his customs foreign to her. Before father had whipped him into shape, he’d said crying was natural.

He’d never judged her for her breakdowns. Her vulnerabilities. Whenever she’d been having a rough night, they’d both sneak out of their rooms and…

That was it.

Franziska cleared her throat quietly.

“I’m going to make some hot chocolate.” She said, keeping her tone as soft as she could. It wasn’t natural for her to speak without lining her words with harsh consonants and bitterness, but she was working on it. “If you want some, I’ll make an extra mug.”

Silence. She didn’t take it personally, instead walking off towards the kitchen as she’d said, taking out two mugs and moving over to the pantry. She kept the hot chocolate powder behind some of the cereal boxes–a habit from when they were younger. One of the maids had kept it stocked for her and Miles, and they’d hid it from her father to stay out of trouble. After also grabbing a bag of small marshmallows, she made her way back to the counter.

Throwing together two mugs of hot chocolate was something she could do with her eyes closed at this point. It wasn’t a skill she’d ever expected to have, but it came in handy right now. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the bathroom door creaking open. Despite the urge to look up and see the state of Pearl, Franziska kept her eyes on the mugs, topping off the hot chocolate with exactly seven marshmallows each. After some careful consideration, she grabbed another handful and dropped the extra marshmallows into Pearl’s mug.

Sometimes, the extra marshmallows were justified. Just sometimes.

Finally glancing over at Pearl, mugs in hand, Franziska kept her expression carefully neutral. The girl’s eyes were red, tear-streaks under them, and she looked utterly exhausted. She also kept glancing around, as if looking for something lurking behind the couch or table. Franziska knew the signs of a nightmare, having experienced far too many herself, and knew she’d guessed right. Not saying a word, she held out the mug of hot chocolate to Pearl.

Pearl stared at it the same way she’d stared at the cup from earlier. This time, though, she reached out to take it, grabbing the handle and staring down at the sea of marshmallows. Franziska walked past her to the couch, sitting down. After a few seconds, Pearl followed, sitting down next to her, holding the mug in both of her hands.

They sat there, not talking about it, drinking their hot chocolate. While they sat, Franziska eyed the foolish plant in the corner. What was it doing to help Pearl, who had sat there all afternoon talking to it? Absolutely nothing. Pathetic.

“...I like hot chocolate.” Pearl mumbled into her drink, and Franziska felt herself relax slightly at the sound. She quietly hummed in agreement. Waiting for a moment to let the comfortable silence between them sit, Franziska decided to speak.

“It tends to help when I can’t sleep, so I keep it around.” She kept her eyes carefully trained on her mug when she saw Pearl glance over at her in her peripheral vision. The marshmallows were bobbing in the brown liquid, a faint line of steam rising and bringing heat to her face. It was calming, even now as she was older.

“When you can’t…?” It wasn’t a complete question, but Franziska knew what the girl was asking. Of course she did, she was perfect at interpreting childish fools after all, and actual children were only a step up.

“Nightmares.” Franziska bore her gaze down on the marshmallows, trying not to make the conversation seem like it was affecting her. One sunk under the surface. “My father.”

Silence grew again, except this time it wasn’t entirely comfortable. Franziska refused to look over at Pearl, not knowing what expression she’d be met with, and focused on taking another sip of her drink. She knew what she was doing–opening up about her own struggles was the best way to try and get Pearl to open up, she’d learned that from Maya–but it didn’t make it feel any less stifling.

“My mother.” Pearl muttered the words so quietly Franziska would have missed them had she not had perfect hearing. Franziska finally looked over at her, meeting her gaze with what she hoped was a reassuring gaze. The girl sniffled, clutching the mug tighter. “She… she hated Mystic Maya’s side of the family so much. She just wanted me to be powerful like them, and I couldn’t… I wasn’t…” Sobs wracked Pearl’s body again, the mug shaking in her grasp.

Franziska put her own mug down first, then reached over and gently took the other one from the girl’s grasp. Once it was set down on the coffee table, Franziska turned back to Pearl. She clenched and unclenched her hand for a moment, not sure what to do, before slowly reaching out to wrap an arm around Pearl, unsure if the girl would respond positively to the attempt. However, her worries were quickly quelled when the girl all but threw herself against Franziska’s chest, clenching the oversized night shirt like a lifeline. Franziska’s hands hovered for a moment before she returned the gesture, slightly awkwardly moving her hands up and down the girl’s back.

“I just wanted her to be proud of me.” Pearl wailed against her chest, and Franziska held her just a small bit tighter, the words hitting just a bit too close to home.

You’ll be alright, little one. No one will hurt you again.

~~~

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there, but at some point the tears slowed down, and Pearl just lay against Franziska’s chest, their breathing completely in sync. A yawn escaped from Pearl’s mouth. Right, she ought to be getting tired again. Franziska spared a momentary glance to the half-finished hot chocolate on the table, but decided to deal with it in the morning. It could wait.

“Come on, time for bed.” Franziska whispered, shuffling slightly. Pearl tensed up, breathing growing shallower again, and Franziska stopped, thinking. After a moment, she readjusted so her arms slid under Pearl’s before hoisting the girl up into her arms and standing. Luckily, Pearl was quite light, so carrying her was no more difficult than carrying that damned plant.

“I-”

“Shhhh.” Franziska moved carefully towards her bedroom, the light on her bedside table still turned on. Once Pearl seemed to realize where they were, she slumped slightly in Franziska’s arms. Franziska set Pearl down gently, draping a blanket across her before flicking off the light and walking around the bed to lay down on the opposite side.

It only took a few seconds before Pearl shuffled over and curled up against Franziska’s side. Franziska slid an arm around her in return. They lay there for a while, Franziska staring at the ceiling as she listened to the girl's breathing–even, calm. She’d thought Pearl had fallen asleep when she heard a small voice in the darkness.

“Ms. von Karma?”

“Hm?” In the dim room, Franziska felt less awkward glancing down at the girl curled up against her. She could make out her face in the darkness, still tucked into her side.

“Are you and Mystic Maya happy together?” After everything that had happened that day, Franziska could only smile at the question, letting her expression be free knowing there were no outside eyes watching.

“Very.”

“And… and you can still be special someones even if…” Her voice trailed off, and despite Franziska’s impeccable ability to decipher unspoken questions, there were a lot of directions this one could go.

“You can ask what you wish to, Pearl Fey. I won’t be mad.” Somehow, that seemed like the right thing to say. And it was.

“...even if you aren’t a prince and a princess?” Franziska lay there for a moment, confused at what fairytales had to do with any of this, but then it hit her. And oh, did it hit her hard.

‘Franziska von Karma! Never, ever, say something like that again!’ Her father spat in her face, grabbing her by the collar and shoving her away from the dinner table. Miles was watching in silent horror.

‘But father, I love her!’

She blinked a few times, shutting down the memory. That didn’t matter anymore. He was wrong. Refocusing on Pearl, she thought about what little the girl had revealed that night about her own mother, and took a soft breath to ground herself.

“A prince can love a princess, yes. But sometimes, princesses don’t fall for the princes.” She ran a hand through Pearl’s hair, which was slightly drooping out of its usual style. “Sometimes, she finds another princess, and even if some people decide to stare, the two princesses are happier together than they ever would be with princes.”

Her metaphors needed work, but Pearl seemed to understand.

“...Mystic Maya’s really happy with you.” She mumbled sleepily, and Franziska felt her slump against her side. Asleep. Good, the girl really needed it.

Franziska was about to close her own eyes when she heard her phone ding in her pocket. Right, she needed to silence that. Pulling it out, she silenced it before looking at the notification.

Two texts from Maya Fey.

She opened it.

Maya Fey: Hey Franzy! Cell service sucks up here :(

Maya Fey: Everything going ok with Pearly? Sry I left in such a rush this morning

Franziska looked down at the girl by her side and smiled.

Franziska: Everything is going well.

#ace attorney #ace attorney requests #franmaya #franmaya fic #Franziska von Karma #maya fey #pearl fey

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pixelated-pogues · 2 years ago

Text

New Life (j.m)

Pairing: Honestly just a look into JJ’s life in a different reality.

Warnings: Lil bit of angst, OC’s, mild cursing

——————

“You’re destroying them, you know,” Everest whispers into the silence around us, a gentle gust of smoke rolling from her lips with the calm accusatory statement. My eyes glance over to her, eyebrows instinctively furrowing in confusion. Her gaze remains locked on our friend group on the opposing side of the sliding glass door, each of them laughing and carrying on as though their demise isn’t being forced onto my shoulders. “If they fall apart because of you, I’ll never forgive you,” she finishes, releasing the cigarette from her fingers, her foot carelessly stamping the bud out against the concrete of the patio. That’s when she spares me a glance, long enough for her eyes to lock in the fact that her words are more than just words, but a sheer exposure of truth.

With that, she waltzes through the sliding glass door without sparing me another glance. Leaving me in the dark with nothing but a half burnt cigarette and unshakable guilt weighing heavy on my shoulders as I watch her go.

A strangled sigh escapes me, my cigarette dropping to the damp ground beside my feet while my eyes remain locked on the friend group in question again. I stamp the cigarette with my foot, the fiery ashes turning black under my boot. Hugging my jacket a little closer, I nod my head in acceptance that she’s right. I’m no good for the people I call my friends. Everything that’s gone wrong in their lives over the past several months resulted from me being the single raindrop that started a ripple effect that slowly began raging into a tsunami, thrusting their relationships and sanity against the rocks. It’s only a matter of time before there’s nothing less. Unless, I take matters into my own hands and eliminate the problem. Taking one final look through the glass, their carefree laughter rings through my ears as I stand from my seated position, beginning a silent trek away from the house.

“JJ,” millie shouts, her footsteps pattering down the road after me. I halt in my tracks, mentally scorning her for taking notice of my disappearance and caring enough to follow me. “JJ, wait,” she calls, jogging until she’s right in front of me. “You never leave without saying goodbye.” Again, I mentally curse her for noticing but my heart can’t help but swell at the observation.

“Oh, yeah, I uh, I’m feeling really beat. Not feeling up for the social interaction, so I thought I’d dip early,” I lie through my teeth easily, dismissively waving my hand to assure her that it’s nothing. “I didn’t want to break up the fun by saying goodbye.”

“Oh,” she hums, nodding her head in understanding. There’s a distant glimmer in her eyes, like she knows my leaving the house means more than what I’m letting on, but she doesn’t address it. “Well, at least let me drive you home so you’re not walking alone in the dark. Your house is halfway across town,” she reaches for the lanyard in her back pocket, body turned back toward the house where her car sits. Her voice is lighter now, holding a softness that always comes out when she’s trying to get through to someone she cares about.

“No, millie,” I gently decline, waving my hand again to assure her it’s really nothing. “I, uh, I could use the walk. It’ll clear my head, plus, nothing beats an independent night time walk through obx.” My own voice easily transitions to its normal lighthearted tone, my demeanor shifting to its normal atmosphere as a way to make the whole lie more believable. Millie’s shoulders visibly deflated in front of me, a sad film covering her eyes at the realization that I wasn’t going to change my mind.

“Okay,” she breathes, hitting the lock button on her car to ensure that it's locked. A downcast smile curves it’s way onto her lips as she shoves her hands in her back pockets, dejectedly kicking at a few loose pebbles on the street. She looks at me again after a few beats of silence, eyes swimming with an unspoken emotion. “Come here.” she pulls her hands out of her pockets to outstretch her arms to me, an assuring glint in her eye as she waits for me to move.

“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, the entire interaction has a heavy pool of emotions slamming against my rib cage. I hesitate to accept the hug, not wanting to risk getting too sappy and tip off my plan to leave everything behind. After a moment of staring at her like a statue, I move forward, tensely walking into her arms and loosely wrapping mine around the small of her back. The emotions start welling in my eyes in the form of tears and I begin to pull away as a mechanism to bottle them up in the back of my mind. She only tightens her grip around my neck, pulling me flush against her forcing me to fully melt into the embrace. My head dives into the crook of her neck, hiding the few tears the manage to spill from my eyes, a few heavy breaths rumbling through my chest as I mentally work myself down.

“Just a few more minutes, jj,” I mentally assure myself, locking the feelings and physical reaction away so that it doesn’t come spilling out and ruin my plans. I have do this. For the sake of my friends.

“Take care of yourself, J,” she commands, her voice coming out in a choked whisper, arms hugging me a little tighter for assurance. We’re untangling ourselves from each other after another beat, an emptiness settling into my body as soon as we let go. The silent tears threatening to spill over her eyelids glimmer in the dim street lighting, immediately capturing my attention. I wordlessly caress her cheek, patting it with a sad smile as a way of telling her that it’ll be okay.

“You take care of yourself,” I shoot back gently, shoving my trembling hands in the pockets of my jacket. “Stop letting lame ass guys think they have a chance with you at the bar. And put Jackson in his god damn place every once in awhile, you’re too damn good to let people make you feel small. I hear anything different and I’ll find a way to beat your tiny ass, respectfully of course because you’re a lady.” She releases a tearful scoff, jokingly slamming her hand into my shoulder.

“Deal,” she laughs, wiping at a rogue tear rolling down her cheek. “As long as you stop believing you’re bad for everyone that cares about you.” I suck in a sharp breath at her words, my eyes immediately moving to the uninteresting ground by her feet. “As soon as you start doing that, you’ll stop fighting tooth and nail to get them to push you away, and you’ll stop having to leave.” My eyes meet hers again, the lighthearted smile I’d managed to muster disappearing into a neutral expression. “What do you think, Maybank? Is it worth a pinky promise or should I let you beat my ass now?” I push all of the air out of my cheeks, nibbling on my lip with a pinky extended her way. Another sad smile is sent my way just before her pinky locks with mine, her hand twisting up in the slightest to tap our thumbs and seal the deal.

“You should go back inside. If you’re out here much longer, they’ll come looking,” my words break the moment, her hand promptly dropping to her side in a loose fist.

“Yeah,” she agrees kicking at the pavement again. She silently looks over her shoulder at the house before returning her focus to me, eyes still glimmering in the dim lighting of the street. She takes a quick step forward, wrapping me in another hug before pulling away. “See you, JJ.”

“See you, mills,” it’s as much of a goodbye as I could muster, tipping my head towards her while gripping an imaginary hat like a cowboy. we exchange one last sad smile before turning on our heels, heading in opposite directions on the street. Her footsteps grow dim as I retreat the scene, refusing to look back until she was far enough for me not to change my mind. I pause in the street, turning around to catch one last glimpse of what’s left of this season of my life. I watch as millie rounds the house without looking back, her disappearance back to life as we know it giving me everything I need to take a mental snapshot of the street before flipping back around and walking in the direction of a new uncharted one that’s soon to be mine.

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

A/n: This is different than anything I've ever written, but it came to mind forever ago and I'm deciding to say "screw it" and post it. A short fic with a few OC's and a story line that has yet to be fully imagined. I don't know if I'll write more of the story, but I wanted to put this out there. I hope you enjoy it, and it's okay if you don't.

tag list: @thelocalpogue @maaybanks @drewstarkey @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells @spilledtee @maebanks @poguemackin @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @marvel-writer @astrydis @hijohnd @pogueslandia @scenesofobx

#outer banks #outer banks fics #outer banks imagines #obx #obx fics #obx imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank fics #jj maybank imagines #jj obx #jj outer banks

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tinyowlthoughts · 6 months ago

Text

"Julie, he's back."

The bartender groaned, setting down the rag she'd been drying the shot glasses with so she could pinch the bridge of her nose. "Why is that my problem?" She asked, wishing that it was later in the day. When her bar was full, nobody dared bother her with silly little issues like this - not if they wanted to keep her tip jar from ending up in unpleasant places.

"You're the only one he listens to."

It...was unfortunately true. The bastard had selective hearing, and one of the words he picked up on more than any other was 'princess'. Unfortunately, Julie's last name was Prince, and that was apparently close enough.

"Still not my problem."

"It's Tiki Bar night, if he's still there when the party starts at six..."

Ah, she'd forgotten about that. Running a hand over the plastic lei hanging beside the mirror (cheap accessories paired with enthusiasm were a great way to make sure the tips rolled in), she weighed her options.

Who was she kidding, there were no options. Just a worthless literature degree that had racked up a ridiculous amount of student debt that she was still trying to pay down.

"Fine, fine, I'm coming." She grabbed the yellow and pink flowers and looped them around her neck. Joe - nervously clutching one of the pool nets and dripping chlorine-scented water on the tile floor - gave her a weak smile and nod before vanishing, likely off to change his clothes and huddle with the rest of the hotel staff. Honestly, he called himself a manager.

With two bottles of wine and the oversized novelty glass the barback, Julie crossed the lobby and confidently strode though the glass doors to the pool deck.

The Scourge of the I95 didn't bother looking up at the sound of the pool gate opening and closing. The dragon - almost too big to even fit in the pool - was lounging in the cool water, chin propped on the tiled edge, eyes closed in bliss. His green scales sparkled, even as the chlorine began to tint a few of them a pale teal. Julie didn't bother worrying about them - she'd asked once, and he'd reassured her they were close to shedding and would simply fall off, no harm done. That conversation had been a few years ago, in the fall, when the pool wasn't busy, and she wasn't at risk of losing a night of pineapple-rum soaked bills.

"Hey!" She shoved a flipflopped foot against the beasts snout. "Wilmington you prick, wake up!"

The dragon snorted, smoke curling lazily from his nostrils, and opened one eye to peer at her. It rolled heavenward, then closed with a huff. Julie huffed back (with less smoke) and set down the glass. "Dude, I'm not kidding. You can't do this today."

"And why not?" The dragons voice was a rumble, a bass so deep that it shook her bones as it rolled through the empty pool deck. "What are you, a mere mortal, to do about it?"

"I am going to ask you politely." Julie put her hands on her hips. "And when that doesn't work, I'm going to bribe you with some Red Cellars Red and hope you fly drunk into a mountain."

A grin slowly curled his maw, and after a moment the eye opened once more, zeroing in on her. "Ah, princess, I have missed your jokes."

"Not a joke, and still not a princess." Julie hooked a foot around the nearest plastic side table and dragged it over, setting down the glass and wine. "There's a party tonight, and I'm not letting you steal all my money by keeping the pool closed."

"Pah, money. You are royalty, what could you need a few of those - what did you call them? - tops for?" Wilmington had lifted his head slightly now, both eyes focused on the bartender as she pulled a corkscrew from her apron pocket and started fighting with the first bottle.

"It's tips, and because I have student loans to pay back." The cork finally pulled loose with a satisfying 'pop!' and Julie set the first bottle down to repeat the process with the second. "Education ain't cheap, dude."

The dragon rolled his eyes with a huff. "Princesses don't pay for their education, they are granted it by birthright."

"Not this princess." The cork tore in half, and she muttered a half-hearted curse and began digging out the stuck bit.

"Hmph," the dragon huffed again. "Your parents are not impressing me. A king and queen should know the importance of educating future rulers of the kingdom."

Julie's eyes flicked to the blue tiles barely visible beneath the dragon, knowing there were white squares spelling out "Kingdom Hotels" beneath his stomach. "Yeah, well, they disowned me so..." She shrugged and finally just shoved the cork half hard, pushing it into the bottle itself. The dragon wouldn't notice a few floating specks of cork in the wine.

"Disowned? Whatever for?" Wilmington lifted his head off the deck, his full attention finally captured.

"I loved someone they didn't approve of. So they disowned me. Kicked me out the second I was a legal adult." Julie tilted both bottles over the glass, watching the deep red wine fill it. Maybe she should have grabbed a third glass, this might not be enough...

"Preposterous! Thou cannot help who thy loves!"

Her literature degree cringed at the butchering of medieval prepositions, but she knew better by now than to call him out on it. (Wilmington claimed he was one of the original Great Green Drakes of England, but Julie was fairly certain he'd hatched sometime in the 1800s, in a nest of King Arthur books.)

"Yeah, well, tell them that."

"I SHALL!"

Wilmington rose, water cascading off him to (mostly) refill the pool. Julie threw herself over the half-full novelty glass, getting soaked but saving the wine as the dragon shook himself off like a dog.

"Point me in the direction of those curs and I shall-"

"They're not worth it." Julie interrupted his diatribe before it could truly begin, wringing out her shirt and making sure the plastic lei wasn't damaged. Wilmington huffed, but apparently it had all been posturing, as he immediately sunk back into the water, settling his chin back on the edge.

"What cans't I do to aid thee, princess?" He asked, ear fins drawn back.

"Not much, Wil." Julie sighed and shoved the plastic table closer to him, one hand out to steady the wine glass. "Just - enjoy a drink and clear out before six, please?"

"Before five, we have to drain and refill the pool!" Joe called from the second floor, where he and a handful of other employees were watching the proceedings on one of the room balconies. Wilmington lifted his head and barred his fangs at them, and all seven quickly found something else to do that was far, far away from the balcony.

Julie snorted - cowards, the lot of them, which was saying a lot because two of them were honest-to-god centaurs and the most Alpha-Male-Chad assholes she'd ever met. Scared of a big baby like Wilmington, honestly.

Said dragon had picked up his glass and was swirling the wine around, eyes focused on the drink. "Thoust mentioned a loan...?"

"Yeah, sixty-k in debt."

"'K'?"

"Thousand. Sixty-thousand, a bit more than that. Barely making the payments and rent and my car payments, not to mention the cost of living increase and - y'know what, don't worry about it." Julie dragged one of the plastic lounge chairs over and threw herself down on it, throwing an arm over her eyes and letting out a long sigh. "It's just the life of Julie Prince, no biggie."

"Hm."

There was a sudden slurping noise - quite unlike the uptight dragon - and when Julie lifted her arm to look, the glass was empty, and he was once more lifting himself out of the pool.

"Thank you for the drink, princess." He bowed his head. "I wish you a most pleasant day." Then his great wings were beating, knocking over several tables and sending the chairs - including the one Julie was sitting on - skittering back a few feet.

"Uh-" Before she could return the goodbye, he had lifted off into the air, easily navigating the courtyard at the center of the tringle-shaped hotel and vanishing into the blue sky. That was odd - normally he carried on with proper royal 'formalities' for ages before she could shoo him away. Maybe the tragic backstory and financial burden had scared him away, like her last two girlfriends.

"Wow, Julie! A new record!" Joe cheered as he and another custodian came out, still clutching their nets like javelins. "We'll have plenty of time to get it cleaned up in time for the tiki bar."

Right, the tiki bar. She needed to make sure they had enough pineapple juice and pina colada mix. "Awesome. I'm gonna go shower off, let me know when you're ready for me to set up."

"Sure thing. Thanks again!"

~*~

"JULIE HE'S BACK!"

Joe - looking like a poor Magnum PI clone with his board shorts, open Hawaiian shirt, and the scraggly mustache on his upper lip - burst into the busy restaurant. Only three years of working with the man kept her from dropping her shakers. With practiced motions she finished the strawberry daiquiri and poured it for the patron, then excused herself, mentally kissing that tip goodbye.

"What do you mean he's back - the party starts in twenty minutes!" Julie hissed. Joe didn't answer, just grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the pool.

"I don't know - he just landed in the pool and told me 'n' Carl to come get you - he had some kind of bag? - all the water is out of the pool, we'll have to refill it - the party is about to start - "

With a huff, Julie pushed her way through the door and onto the pool deck, ready to give the dragon a piece of her mind, only to stop so short Joe ran right into her.

"Princess!" Wilmington beamed from where he was lounging in the water once again, one of the fake leis they had out for guests looped around his horns. In front of him, spilling out of a leather pouch as big as a VW Bug, was a pile of gold, jewels, and rolls of hundred dollar bills.

"Wil, what are you...?" Julie slowly approached the pool deck, staring at the pile of riches. "What is all this?"

The dragon preened, looking proud of himself as he sat up and shook off a bit (soaking the few hotel guests who had stuck around to watch). "As a thank you for your service earlier, I have brought you a top!"

"...you mean a tip?"

"Yes! A tip-top! And I have decided to join your festivities." He gestured to the lei around his horn.

Joe made a strangled noise near the door. "Julie, he needs to leave!"

Julie stooped down to pick up one of the coins. It was real - pure gold, stamped and authenticated. With a grin, the bartender turned to face the manager and flipped the coin towards him. He yelped and scrambled to catch it, dropped it, and had to stoop down and grab it before a Karen-esque woman nearby decided to make a dive for it.

"He's a paying customer, boss." Julie grinned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to finish setting up the bar. Wil, have you ever tried a pina colada?"

~*~

I have no idea if this is good or not but I love Wilmington. He wants to be peak Arthurian dragon but he's like, a medieval hipster. Trying to use the lingo and failing spectacularly.

The idea of dragons in modern times is so fun because imagine a hot summer day on your vacay and go to use the hotel pool and staff is like "valued guests we regret to inform you that the pool area is out of service at the moment, we apologize for the inconvenience"

And people like "wtf why" looking out their hotel room window and there's this. This dragon just curled up in the pool chilling, literally, cooling itself down

Some of the staff are trying to gently shoo him away and the dragon does a soft little "rrrrrr" like a grumpy cat and a warning puff of smoke and they're like "fuck it i don't get paid nearly enough for this" and no ones using the pool today sorry!

#writing #no beta #we die like Joe if he tried to kick Wilmington #Julie #Wilmington

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jupitermelichios · 4 years ago

Text

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

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stressedemoblackbratz · 3 years ago

Text

savory

pairing: elliot x fem!reader

warnings: swearing and drug usage.

request: elliot x reader where reader is rue’s ride home and when rue and elliot are high off their asses in the laundry room elliot asks the reader if she’s an angel because of the way the light reflected on her, and he panics for a few minutes because he though he died. now every time elliot sees the reader he refers to her as angel and the nickname kind of sticks amongst her close friends and other classmates.

a/n: this was my last imagine of the day. i wrote a total of 9, including this one, fics in less than 24 hours…damn who would’ve thought. i’m going to bed now so this will be posted tomorrow. i hope you enjoy!

words: 654 + not proofread

hey angel, fly over and bless me.

snowy clouds.

that’s what Elliot saw and could even feel when he got high. what he didn’t expect was to see a beautiful angel dressed in white satin with a worried expression.

the angel stood in the door way, the flashing LED’s in the hall hitting her skin just right.

“o-oh shit Rue.” Elliot mumbled before he swallowed his saliva. “R-Rue!” he stuttered frantically sitting up as it dawned on him.

he was dead.

they had died.

“i went to heaven?!” he exclaimed in shock.

“no, i’m going to send you to hell if you don’t wake Rue up so i can go the fuck home.” the angel said blinking her petal and pearl covered eyes at him in a bored fashion.

“…oh…sorry angel.” he said waving her off before shoving at Rue’s shoulder.

“my names y/n.” you told him as he started poking at Rue’s face.

“Elliot. okay angel, you mind helping me?” he said completely ignoring her words.

you knew Rue was a deep sleeper. so you did what worked at sleepovers.

a slap echoed in the laundry room as you both watched her stir.

“she’s more paranoid when high around this time so i’m confused to why she’s even…never mind.” your voice trailed off as her eyes slowly opened and squinted at the blinding white light.

“E-Elliot?!” Rue screamed out forcing the two of you to jump back. “am i dead?!” she shrieked again.

“ask the angel.” he said pointing to you as Rue looked around the room in confusion. her eyes landing on you who held a concerned gaze.

“oh hey y/n.” she sheepishly smiled.

“hey y/n my ass Rue. i’ve been looking for you for over an hour. Fez had to leave.”

“whattt?” she asked moving to get up. Rue looked around the room for her phone and in the process noticed Elliot was not letting his gaze up on you.

“you missed it babes. Fez cracked Nate in the head with a bottle when the clock hit midnight. blood was everywhere.” you laughed recalling the events. fuck Nate, you could honestly careless.

“I MISS EVERY FUCKING THING BRO!” she said stomping her foot and sighing. the force of the stomp made her feel her phone bounce in her back pocket.

“so is he okay angel?” the boy who you had forgotten about mentioned from the floor.

slowly turning your gaze to his you noticed he was cute and the angel nickname didn’t seem to be budging.

“mmm to be honest? i think he’ll be okay, but personally? if it was up to me…he’d be gone…in all seriousness.” you said thinking of the abusive piece of shit you saw at every corner.

“anyways!” you said quickly clapping your hands together. “let me give you both a ride home!” you stated turning on your heels and out the door you went.

the muffled Nirvana song played from your shitty speakers as you took Elliot home.

“you know angel…” he spoke. his low eyes sliding over to your frame.

“yeahhh?” you asked stopping at a red light. looking in his direction you saw his gaze focused on you.

his eyes were mesmerizing.

“thank you for guiding me home.” he said nodding his head at the house right behind the light. a green flash lighting up his skin as you pulled forward.

“no problem Elliot…”

the last weeks events were behind you so when you came to lunch Monday evening you didn’t expect to see so much commotion at your usual table.

“what are y’all fussing about?” you asked coming up to everyone. grins and giggles escaping them all as they quieted down.

you looked over everyone only to recognize a new, but known, face that belonged to Elliot. his cheeks were getting redder and redder by the moment.

“so angel huh?” Cassie asked you with a grin slowly breaking onto her face.

oh boy.

#elliot imagine #euphoria x reader #elliot euphoria #rue bennet x reader #rue bennett #euphoria #euphoria imagine

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years ago

Text

A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

#star wars #mace windu #ahsoka tano #jedi #light fix it verse #fanfic

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years ago

Text

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom

Word Count: 8.2k

I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

“He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

“Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

“How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

“I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

“Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

“I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

“N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

Until today.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

“Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

“No, but I just think that-”

“Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

Right.

I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

But not to me – no, never to me.

“Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated groan.

After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

Or so I thought.

I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

“Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

“I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

“C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

“You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

“I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

“Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

Oh, fuck no.

I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

“What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

“Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

“You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

“Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

“I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

“Oh. O-Okay.”

And that was that.

It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

“D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

“S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

“Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

“Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

“You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

“Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

“Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

“I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

“Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?” “N-No, Miss.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

“B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

“Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

“I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

“Color?”

“G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

“Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

“O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

“You okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

“Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

“T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

“Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

“Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

“Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

“Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

“N-No, it’s just-”

I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

“No, it isn’t good enough?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

“P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

“Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

“W-Why did yo-”

“You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

“S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

“Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

“S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

“H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

“Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

“I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

“Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

“Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me.

“Y/N - fuck!”

Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

“C-Can you stay? Please?”

The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

“Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

“Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

“What is it, baby?”

A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

“I have another question,” he says shyly.

“Lay it on me, baby.”

The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

“It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

“First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

“Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

Text

Amethyst you so much

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

Warnings: pure fluff, weed mention, hurt/comfort, grief and mourning

Word Count: 6.4K

Read on Ao3

Late nights at the office had become his thing since Gideon left.

He couldn’t bring himself to go home some nights without a game of chess, a cup of coffee, and the ambiance of the post case staff working. He would’ve had no idea about what goes on after they close a case if he didn’t stay behind most nights.

The phone rings almost every 10 minutes, and it’s always answered by the sweetest voice. The fax machine never turns off, and the most beautiful girl in the world is always running around placing papers in different places.

He’s been smitten with her since she started here, 2 years ago. Never seeing much of her since she was switched to the night shift, always wanting to just watch her from afar, never speaking to her unless he needed to.

“Yes, again we are so sorry for the door,” he can hear her voice from the back corner of the room. “Agent Morgan will be paying for that out of his paycheck, don’t worry, Mr. Kennings. We’ll be sure to remember your hotel when we’re in the area again. The FBI has a very generous budget for overnight cases. Of course, you have a good night too.”

She hung the phone up harshly and let out a deep sigh. He turned around to see her face in her arms, resting against the desk. She looked done, completely fed up. He would be too.

She looked up then, noticing that he was making eye contact with her. She awkwardly smiled and waved at him, “sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Spencer replied. “We asked for the key, I should have stopped him from kicking it in.”

She laughed then, walking over to his desk so she didn’t have to yell across the room. She sat on the corner of his desk lightly, “why do you stay every night?”

“Oh, um,” he wasn’t prepared for this. She had never talked to him before. She was barely able to even look at him when she used to place papers on his desk 2 years ago, now she was on his desk.

“I don’t like to bring the work home with me, it’s better to destress here before I go to my apartment,” he answered, half honestly.

She nodded slightly, “I get it. Luckily I go home in the mornings so the sun helps me feel better.”

“Going home in the dark isn’t fun,” she lightly smiled up at her.

“Do you want a coffee or anything?” She asked softly, “seeing as I am still your assistant as long as you’re here?”

He laughed lightly, “I would, but I’d like to join you in the staff room for it?”

“Okay,” she stood, straightening out her shirt as he stood as well.

He held the doors open for her, letting her walk out first, still smiling as she waited in the hall for him. Never being anything less than 1 foot from him for some reason, and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Do you like your job?” He asked lightly.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “It’s like customer service on crack. Have you ever had to explain to someone why you can’t pay for the cracked foundation after Agent Morgan’s ransacked a place?”

“I honestly never thought of who has to deal with the aftermath,” he awkwardly admitted to her. “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t stop laughing as they entered the kitchen, “it’s fine. I never have to apologize on your behalf, it’s everyone else who seems to be reckless. Sometimes I feel like it would be better if I came along to babysit.”

“That would be helpful,” he smiled softly as she entered the staff room.

He watched as she took a new coffee filter out of the cupboard. Emptying the coffee pot with ease, rinsing everything before adding the water and scooping in the grounds. He was mesmerized by how fast she was able to do it, then again it was sort of her job.

“What mug would you like?” She turned to him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Um, the purple one, if it’s there?”

“You really like purple, huh?” She teased him, standing on her tippy-toes to reach the mug for him.

She placed it on the counter before grabbing a white mug, it had a bumblebee on it, “bee happy” written along the top. It was perfect for her.

“Purple is a stress-reducing colour,” she explained. “When I was a kid my parents painted my room purple so that I’d sleep better.”

“I’ve always been drawn to it.”

She leaned against the counter while the coffee pot started to percolate, “Probably because of your anxiety, coffee doesn’t help that.”

“It’s in my DNA to be like this,” he tried to joke, knowing he succeeded when her smile crept back onto her face.

He was on a mission to keep seeing it.

“For someone who spends a lot of time with dead bodies, creepy places and bad people, you sure are a mousy little thing aren’t you?” She teased him.

“I also love Halloween, go figure.” He’s not sure where the confidence came from, being able to make light-hearted jokes like this was only easy with the team.

Which she technically was a part of. He’s seen her almost every single day for 3 years, slowly being able to get comfortable enough for this very moment.

“What else are you into, outside of here?” She asked honestly, making his heart swell as no one else had ever asked him before.

“Lots of things,” he sighed. “I love to read, I’ll read anything. But mostly I enjoy far-off worlds. Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Sherlock mostly.”

“No supernatural?” She gasped. “Sacrilege, honestly. What kind of nerd are you if you don't support supperwholock?”

“That's the show with the monster hunting brothers right?” He tried to recall it to his mind.

She nodded with a pressed-lipped smile, “it’s bad but in a way where I can’t stop watching every Thursday, they just introduced an angel who is pretty gay. Star Trek is cool too, I guess, I was raised by Trekkies.”

“My mom was into Doctor Who.”

“Mamma’s boy,” she teased him slightly, returning her focus to the coffee as she poured the now finished brew into their mugs. “She was nice when she came in that one time, I made her a very sweet coffee just like yours.”

He reached for the sugar then, poring a generous amount into his mug with a grin, “how much do you like?”

“the same amount,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate the taste of coffee, but it keeps me awake.”

He poured the sugar into her mug as she places a spoon in each. Allowing him to stir his own before picking it up finally. Holding the warm ceramic in his hands, it was almost as warm as the feeling in his chest when he looked at her.

He’s felt it for a long time. He’s been caught staring at her by Derek, JJ even tried to get him to give her his number. Which she already had for when she calls him into work in the middle of the night. They knew he had a crush, he did too. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

“Come to my desk, I want to show you something?” She asked softly, avoiding eye contact as she walked towards the door.

He followed, like a lost puppy, all the way back to her desk. It was always neat, he always looked at it when he made his way up the stairs to the briefing room. He could even see it from where he sat at the table sometimes. Always wanting to see her leave in the mornings.

She had a collection of rocks that always changed, he loved the blue one the most but it wasn’t there currently. She had all new ones since the last time he looked.

“Here,” she hands him one. It’s brown and gold, the colours moving and shifting as he turns it with his fingers. The gold running through it like a beautiful wave.

“what’s this for?”

“It’s a Tiger’s eye, for good luck and happiness,” she smiled. “Keep it at your desk and maybe it’ll be easier for you to relax when you come back?”

The butterflies in his chest were swirling then as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting him to take it, wanting him to feel better. Caring for him.

“Thank you,” he barely whispers, clearing his throat softly. “It’s very nice of you.”

“You’re always nice to me, so,” she shrugged.

They sat down then, he dragged his chair from his desk over to hers. Sitting in close as she explained all the meanings to her rocks. He listened carefully, getting to examine each one as she spoke.

“This one is Jade, it’s for balancing emotions and allowing compassion so I don’t scream at everyone on the phone,” she laughed as she placed one in his hands. Her fingers brushing his palm softly.

It was a beautiful green stone with a thin white line running through it, separating into 3 directions as he flipped it over, “it’s beautiful.”

“I know some people don’t believe in this stuff,” she started to get embarrassed as she placed them all back on the shelf. “But I’ve always thought; if the moon, which is just a rock, can control the water, and humans are 70% water, then who’s to tell me the moon cycles don’t control my emotions and these smaller rocks can’t help problem areas?”

“You’re not wrong,” he shook his head softly as he thought her words over. “People depended on the stars and planets for guidance originally, as well as rocks and herbs for healing, just because it’s outdated doesn’t mean it doesn’t work?”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “No one has ever agreed with me that easily.”

“Anytime you want to talk, I’ll just be over there,” he pointed at his desk. “And I’m a phone call away?” He swallowed sharply at his boldness, trying to stay calm as he awaited her answer.

“I do have your number,” she smiled, reaching out to place her hand on his. “But you should go home, I’m sure you’re chilled out now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring at her hand as they touched. He lightly wrapped his hand around hers, holding it slightly, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after,” she whispered, tilting her head as she smiled at him.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Penelope was always dragging him out. She would take him shopping, to dinner, to the movies. She was like his big sister, dedicated to making sure he wasn’t always cooped up or trying to retreat into a fantasy life.

She kept him busy.

She had 4 bags in her hands as they walked down the street, peering into the store windows to see what else she could possibly be interested in taking home for someone. That’s when they passed the natural health store.

He stopped in his tracks, seeing all the different rocks on the wall accompanies by little cards that described how they could help. He opened the door and rushed inside before Penelope even noticed he stopped following her.

“Good afternoon!” The shop owner called out to him. “How can I assist you today?”

“Um, the girl I like has a rock collection,” he says softly, knowing Penelope is behind him listening. “Crystals more specifically, I’d like to get her some?”

“Well, you came to the right place,” the man beams, escorting him to the wall of rocks. “What is she like?”

“Wonderful,” the words are carried out of his mouth on a sigh as he thinks about her. “She’s confident and nice, and caring. She’s always positive and just so lovely.”

“I’ve got you,” the man starts picking rocks off the wall and placing them in his hands.

Spencer follows him to the desk where he lays down a handful of rocks, Penelope is shockingly quiet as she stands beside him, staring at the collection. She’ll be full of questions later, all of which he is terrified of.

“This is a rose quartz, pretty basic love, beauty, anti-depression stone,” he pushes the pink and a green rock towards him. “Serpentine is for new adventures, observation and insight. I have a feeling you’re up for an adventure with her?”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, “I like that one. It would be better to get her some rare ones, some that have to do with friendship, new beginnings, or opportunities?” He tried to explain his feelings as best as he could. Not knowing if he sounded dumb for a change.

The man smiled wide, “here,” he dipped below the counter and dug out a box. “Chrysocolla is literally for new beginnings, love and opportunity.”

He hands Spencer a vitreous, raw blue stone with small green marks running all through it, it’s beautiful like her. “This is perfect.”

“I’ll throw in a Kiwi Jasper as well, it’s for being by someone's side, support and trust. As well as a Ruby in Zoisite it symbolizes finding the joy in life with someone,” he hands Spencer two equally beautiful stones, prepping a bag and wrappings for all of them.

Spencer lays out the 5 stones he picked out, watching him wrap them with care before placing them in a bag. He rings everything up, Spencer pays and before he’s even out the door Penelope is pouncing on him for answers.

“Who?!”

He can't help but blush and stutter, trying to brush past her and continue walking down the street. “You can’t hide forever Spencer, who is she?”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“You literally said so?” She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Come on? I won't tell anyone!”

“Y/N.”

The gears are turning in Penelope's head as she tries to place a face to the name, knowing she’s seen her somewhere, “From the office?”

He nods softly, “the one Derek bullies me for staring at?” He clues her in more as they walk.

“He also bullies her for staring at you,” she adds with a smile. “She’s going to love those, when are you going to give them to her?”

“I was thinking about just leaving one on her desk every day? Maybe with a note for why I picked it?” He really wants to woo her, she’s too special to just flirt with.

“She’s going to love that.”

—

Sure enough, he walked into work every day for the next week, placing a rock on a sticky note on her desk. He was never around when she was able to see it, only knowing she got it when he'd arrive at work the next morning with a note reading 'thank you ♥︎ ' on top of his files.

He thinks about her all weekend, planning how he'll give her the last rock as he takes the elevator up that morning. Only to see her sitting at her desk, phone pressed to her ear as she tried to talk someone out of suing the FBI, she looked absolutely miserable. Just a casual Monday morning for her, almost at the end of her shift.

He rushed over to his desk, putting all his stuff down to dig one of the rocks from his satchel. Picking the Kiwi Jasper for today, he grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote her a little note.

“Always here if you need to talk, -Spencer ♥︎”

He walked over to her desk, she was still talking so she didn’t notice him until he was right there, she looked up at him with a thankful smile.

“Yes sir,” she answered the person talking to her. “Can I call you back after I speak to the chief? thanks.” She hung up on him, turning all her attention to Spencer.

“I know you know it's been me leaving these, but I brought you in another one,” he says softly, placing the rock in her hand and sticking the note to the shelf where it would end up.

“oh my gosh, Spencer?” She placed her free hand on her heart as she looked at the rock.

“You looked upset?”

She stands and pulls him into a hug, he can feel all the eyes on him as he holds her back, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as she squeezes him.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back, awkwardly smiling at him as she also noticed everyone staring.

“Always,” he smiled back, hand still resting on her arm. “Um, I have a case I need to get to.”

“Of course, good luck,” she smiled.

He pulls the tiger's eye out of his shirt pocket, showing her that he still had it, “kinda hard not to have good luck with this.”

She bit back a smile, her eyes gleaming as she took a deep breath through her nose. Releasing the same feelings he was keeping inside, allowing both their butterflies to swarm out together.

—

He loved when they had cases in Virginia. Being able to stay in the bullpen and work was relaxing, it was easier to think where he felt safe.

He was working on the geo profile all alone, a huge map stretched across a clear case board as he laid a yardstick across it. Drawing a thick red line with marker over it, in his own little world as he worked away.

He doesn’t realize she’s standing there too until she’s lightly pressing her hand on his back.

“Hey,” she whispers softly. “It’s 10 pm, thought you’d like a coffee?” She places the purple mug on his desk with her purse, turning her attention back to what he’s doing.

“Thank you, I’m almost done here,” he says softly, finishing the red triangle he was making on the map.

“I’ve always found it fascinating how you do this,” she complimented him. “You’re so careful.”

“Like baking, it’s an exact science,” he smiled softly.

It made her giggle slightly, placing her hand back on his back as she moved in closer to look. He wanted her to stay there forever, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. He tried his best to steady his hand as he finished the line.

Putting the yardstick back down and turning to her, she doesn’t move her hand, instead, softly moving to rest on his arm as she stands close to him. “How are you?”

He feels nervous for some reason, it’s not like she hasn’t been this close to him before. It’s just that she’s close and she smells wonderful and he wonders if her lips would be a better wake-up call than the coffee she brought.

He realizes he’s staring at her lips when he licks his own, “I’m good,” he furrows his brow and clears his throat with a nod.

She smirks at him, “how come you’re the only one still here? Hotch said it could wait till tomorrow?”

“I was waiting for you,” he admits, “but I got carried away setting this up, I never heard you come in?”

“Cause I didn’t,” she scrunches her nose slightly as she straightens her stance. “I saw you working hard and went right to get you a coffee.”

“You’re wonderful,” he blushes as the words slip out, trying his best to keep eye contact when all he wants to do is kiss her.

She pats his arm slightly as she backs up a little, grabbing her bag from where she set it on his desk. “I’m going to set up for the night, come talk to me before you leave?”

“Of course,” he says as she walks away, letting out a small sigh as he realizes just how badly he wants her.

He never gets to talk to her before he leaves, she’s on the phone when hotch comes storming in. Saying something about another body and making Reid leave with him. He’s busy for 3 days straight, thinking about her with every free thought he’s able to squeeze in.

He carries the rock from her in his pocket everywhere he goes; in his pants beside his keys, in his bag with his books, in his breast pocket, over his heart, behind a bulletproof vest. Feeling it press against his chest, a part of her keeping him safe where ever he went.

They finish the case with minimal damage, Spencer specifically making sure that Derek leaves all the doors on the hinges for Y/N’s sake, cleaning up any messes they make so she won’t have to hear about it over the phone. They all notice that he’s doing it for her, quietly appreciating the fact that Spencer is happy for a change, that there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes again.

He arrives back at Quantico 30 minutes before her shift starts. Everyone else is packing up for the day while he sits at his desk, reading to occupy the time before she comes in.

Only she doesn’t.

30 minutes pass and she’s nowhere to be seen, it’s only 9:02 by the time he starts to panic. Wondering if she’s okay, hoping she’s just in the elevator or grabbing a coffee that’s actually good, somewhere outside of the office.

“Reid,” he hears Hotch calling him from his office door. “She just called in, her grandmother passed away last night so she won't be in.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, looking at him with confusion. “How did you know?”

“Penelope,” he smiles. “She’s still here too, and she knows where Y/N lives.”

“It wouldn’t be weird to go see if she’s okay?”

Hotch just smiles at him again, “go see her, Reid.”

Getting her address from Penelope felt a little weird, but she writes it on a sticky note for him and he’s out the door before she can even pry into what he’s going to say. Which is good, because he doesn’t know yet.

It’s late, but he stops by the little rock store on his way to her house. Seeing the lights still on and the same man from before behind the counter.

“Welcome back,” he’s overly cheerful for it being so late. “How did she like them?”

“She likes the ones I’ve given her so far,” he smiles, looking over the wall himself this time for the right one.

Scanning past every emotion and affirmation known to man as he looked around, picking out a beautiful pink Rhodonite for healing grief, supposedly acting as a hug from emotional troubles. And a Rainbow Moonstone for inner peace, harmony and strength.

“She’s lost someone recently?” He asks as Spencer places them on the counter.

“Her grandmother,” he says softly. “These are good, right?”

“They’ll be perfect, we also have amethyst bracelets, they’re good for healing and drawing in positive energy,” he points towards the small display of bracelets. Small purple stones separated with small gold beads.

He picks up 2 of them, placing them on the counter as well.

“Is she still just a crush?”

Spencer laughs lightly, “unfortunately.”

“She might be more after this,” he smirks, ringing him up. “I’ll give you a 2 for one deal on everything, I have a feeling you’ll be in a lot.”

Spencer thanks him as he pays, picking out a small purple bag for the rocks and bracelet. Placing one on his own wrist before leaving. Also picking up some cookie dough ice cream and a card at the corner store just beside her apartment. Remembering all the times Penelope, JJ or Emily has mentioned it being the best ice cream for crying.

He takes a very deep breath before knocking on her door, hoping to every god out there that she doesn’t find this incredibly inappropriate and weird.

“Spencer?” He hears her voice before she even opens the door, looking out the peephole at him.

She whips the door open, eyes puffy and swollen as she looks at him in shock. She’s in a big sweater and shorts, tears dripping down her cheeks as she shakes her head at him.

“I thought you could use some cheering up?” He awkwardly smiles, holding the ice cream up for her to see.

She wraps her arms around his middle, burying her face against his coat. Still crying as she holds him, he holds her with his free hand, shushing her as he presses his cheek to her head.

She pulls back with a sniffle, “come in,” she offers with an arm out, ushering him inside the small room as she closes the door.

He takes his shoes off, handing her the ice cream so he can take off his coat and satchel too. “This isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” she laughs slightly through the awkwardness. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care this much.”

“I brought something for you,” he says as he struggles to dig everything out of his pocket.

He hands her the card and the little purple bag, seeing the overwhelming glance grow on her face. Her eyes grew wide as he mouth opened, speechless.

She opened the card first, reading the passage about grief that was already provided. Dealing with grief was something Spencer knew too well, adding something a little special to the bottom of the card.

“To live in hearts we left behind is not to die,” -Thomas Campbell. As long as you remember her, with a smile on your face and love in your heart, she will always be with you ♥︎ Spencer

She wipes her tears with her forearm, placing the card on the counter beside the ice cream before she opens the bag. She pulls out the bracelet first, absolute shock on her face.

“Spencer?” Is all she can say, in a high squeak as she shakes her head at him.

“I didn’t want you to be sad,” he says softly, stepping into her space and placing a hand on her arm. “I love seeing you smile, and I thought this could help.

He takes the bracelet from her grasp and places it over her hand. Resting it on her wrist softly, straightening it out against her sweater as she notices the matching on over his shirt sleeve.

“Oh this is so cute,” she swoons. “thank you, really Spencer.”

“And there are some rocks for grief healing in there too, one is supposedly like an emotional hug which should heal the grief and sorrow, and the other is more for inner peace and harmony,” he rambles away, not wanting her to miss anything.

She pours the rocks from the bag, into her hand, looking them over silently with a smile, “they’ll look great on my desk.”

“The purple looks nice on you too,” he compliments her, watching her eyes drift up to him.

She places the rocks on the counter before wrapping her arms around him once more. This time he’s able to actually hold her back, tight as possible as he rubs his hand over her back.

She smells like home, clean laundry and happiness. She’s soft and warm, he holds her perfectly against his chest, like she was a missing puzzle piece that someone finally found under the table, she fits into his life like she was supposed to be there.

She kisses his cheek softly before she pulls back, causing him to pull her into a real kiss on impulse. Connecting their lips as she sighs into the contact, melting into his grasp as she kisses him back.

Her lips are soft, fitting between his own gently as she breathes him in. Her hands reach up to grip his cheeks, kissing him again and again, placing pecks to his lips and cheeks with her eyes closed as he giggles.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips, “for everything.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers back, kissing her one last time before she pulls away.

“I was actually about to smoke some weed on the fire escape and probably cry some more,” she laughs lightly. “would you like to join me?”

“I’ll stick with a bowl of ice cream,” he smiled awkwardly.

“Nice one,” she laughs as she opens the ice cream.

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t even get the reference you made,” she laughs lightly, “to get high you smoke a bowl, so…”

It makes him smile, “I'm a comedian part-time.”

He makes her laugh again, loving the sound of her giggle replacing the tears. “Why aren’t you this funny at work?”

He thinks about it for a little, watching her scoop the ice cream into two bowls, “it’s a little hard to make jokes when people's lives are on the line, I know everyone else does but I get too focused.”

“They probably wouldn’t appreciate your jokes even if you did make them,” she says as she handed him a bowl with a spoon. “They’re kind of mean to you, in a family way but it still sucks sometimes to overhear.”

She walks into the living area then, grabbing a few blankets and opening the window to the fire escape. Crawling out to sit on the ledge, waiting for him.

“I don’t mind it,” he says as he finally sits down beside her.

She places the blanket over their laps, both of them sitting criss-cross applesauce as they ate.

“Do you like your job?” She asks him, just like he once asked her.

“Most of the time,” he nodded as he got brain freeze. The cold air, the cold ice cream, everything that was catching up to him as he scrunched his face up at the feeling.

She laughs at him only a bit before she’s also attacked by the brain freeze, holding the vein in her neck as she chokes out another laugh, trying to warm up the blood going to her head so the pain would stop.

They’re both just a mess of giggles together, unable to say any words as they let it all out. She leans her head on his shoulder lightly as they calm down to just soft chuckles. He presses his cheek against her head.

“Thank you, Spencer,” it sounds like she’s crying a bit. “My grandma was a lovely woman, she’d be glad I’m laughing right now.”

He reached out a hand for her to hold over the blanket. She interlocked their fingers softly, both cold from holding their ice cream bowls.

“If she was anything like you, I’m sure she was the most wonderful woman,” he says softly, not intending to make her cry but having a feeling he might.

“Would you be interested in holding me on the couch while I cry?” She asked softly, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

—

He’s late for work the next morning.

Waking up to the smell of coffee, opening his eyes to a strange view. He’s on a couch he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t know too well.

Then he remembers, they ended up cuddled up on the couch. He wakes up to the memory of her on his chest, crying softly as they listened to some music, he ran his hand over her back while she went through it all, blessed to have his support.

He fell asleep under her at some point, waking up alone with a blanket laid over him. He sat up to see her in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug.

“Good, you’re awake,” she smiles at him. “Coffee is ready, I uh, I have this button-up shirt from a guy friend, if you wanted to wear that to work today? So they don’t think you stayed here?”

“That’s smart,” he replies as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

Getting up, he uses the bathroom, changes and takes that coffee from her. He’s not expecting her to kiss him on the lips at the door, but she sends him off to work like an old housewife.

He doesn’t want to pull away from her, keeping her pressed against him as he leans in for 4 more kisses before she finally pushes him out into the hallway with a laugh, “get to work!”

“Fine,” he sighs, “are you going to be in tonight?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, “funeral is in West Virginia next week, so I’ll be in until then.”

“I’ll see you later?”

She nods slightly with a soft smile, “you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon, Spencer.”

“Good,” he winks at her before heading down the hallway and towards the street entrance.

He sighs as he walks outside, resting his back against the apartment complex door, taking a moment to think about everything that just happened, the night of company and the wonderful send-off.

It was something he could get used to.

He rushes into the briefing room when he arrives at Quantico, sitting down with his coffee and pretending he wasn’t late. Listening carefully to JJ’s presentation of the case as he flips through everything he missed already.

“Wheels up in 30,” he heard Hotch say as he zoned back in. “Nice of you to join us, Reid.”

“I know that travel mug from somewhere,” Derek said as he stared at Spencer, who was taking a sip to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hmm?” He played dumb.

“That’s Y/N’s. She washes it every morning when she leaves to go home, I see her do it every morning,” his eyes open wide. “Holy shit.”

“Isn’t that the same tie and slacks from yesterday?” Emily teased him as well.

“Her grandma died, I brought her ice cream and slept on the couch okay?” He all but yelled, flailing his arms slightly so they’d all back off.

Derek reached his fist out for him to pound it, “good man.”

Then Penelope noticed the bracelet, “did she get you that?”

He sunk his hand into his pocket then, “no.”

“What?” Emily and JJ asked in unison, straining their necks to try and get a good look at what she was talking about.

He nervously held his arm out for them, showing them the purple bracelet resting over the sleeve of his shirt. “I got one for her too, it’s for healing and peace. It’s what she needs right now.”

“Oh, so you love her,” Derek smiles as he teases him. Making everyone else in the room swoon slightly.

“Okay and?”

“Oh my god!” Most of them shout at him, embarrassing him to no end. He was so glad she wasn’t at work this morning or else she would be able to hear this from her desk.

“Did you kiss her?” Rossi pries, asking what everyone else was thinking.

He scrunches his face, pushing his glasses up slightly as he clears his throat, “a few times.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” JJ kept the questions coming.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “Kinda weird to walk into her apartment while she cries to say ‘hey sorry about the death in your family, want to date me?’”

“Yeah,” Emily agrees, shrugging lightly. “At least she knows you like her now, it’s been what? 2 years?”

“2 years, 3 months, 17 days and 43 minutes,” he confirms with a small nod and pressed lips.

“Gross,” Derek teases him.

“The plane is leaving in 10 minutes,” Hotch cut into their fun.

Making them all gather their things and continue the interrogation in the elevator, and eventually on the plane, and in the police precinct. Even Penelope called him in the middle of everything to bug him about her.

The questions were never-ending, everyone wanted to know how they even started talking, who made the first move, how he plans to ask her out. They were relentless, he almost regretted admitting to anything.

They bug him all throughout the day, all the way until they’re arriving back at the BAU late that same night. He almost doesn’t want to go back to the bullpen and see her with all of them, knowing they were going to follow and say something.

She’s waiting in the hall when the elevator doors open, a pressed-lipped smile on her face, “bad news.”

“Another one?” Hotch sighs, “have Garcia send us the info. Be at the table in 10.” He pushes his way out of the elevator, passed them all as they stare at Y/N.

“Hi?” She awkwardly waves at them all, showing off the bracelet on her wrist.

“See ya, Spence,” JJ and Emily say as they matt his shoulder, dragging Derek and Rossi towards the bullpen doors.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for them softly, stepping into her space.

She wraps him up in a quick hug, keeping one arm around his waist as she guides him towards the bullpen, “it’s fine, they’re going to have to get used to us being together.”

“Together?” He repeats her words.

“I only cry on my boyfriend's shoulders, if you're up for the title?” She teases him softly, pinching his side as they walk towards the doors.

“Can I frame “Dr. Spencer Reid, Y/N’s boyfriend” beside my Ph.D.’s?” He keeps his hand on her shoulder, holding each other slightly as they walk towards her desk. He felt like one of those kids who wouldn’t let go of their girlfriend's hand in the school hallway, attached to her at the hip.

“I’ll make one for you while you’re gone,” she laughs lightly.

They stop at her desk where he sees all rocks he got her collecting on the shelf, as well as a cup of coffee and his favourite kind of donut.

“Thought you deserved something nice too,” she says as she nudges his side.

He kisses her on the cheek as a thank you, “you’re welcome,” she smiles to herself. A feeling of pride growing in both their chests.

“See you later?” He asks as he picks up the coffee and donut, walking away slowly as she smiles at him.

“Come home to me safely, Doctor Reid,” her voice is just loud enough for everyone in the briefing room, where everyone is waiting at the window, watching them, deciding to put on a show in return.

He stops on the steps to look at her softly, “I’d fight a thousand unsubs to come home to you.”

“I’ll leave the light on,” she blows a kiss at him, making him blush a deep red.

He waves, making his way up the steps and into the briefing room. A smile on his face, heart thumping in his chest, all the support in the world swarming around him as everyone patted him on the back.

That tiger’s eye really did bring him good luck and happiness, and her name was Y/N.

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