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raayllum · 1 year ago

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So we are sure as anything that is going to be Callum that releases Aaravos at the end of the day (being terrified of being possessed again? Now the gang literally HAVE THE PRISON? Yeah he’s gonna be possessed and forced to open it for SURE! Poor boy what will that do to him..?)

But one thing that hasn’t happened yet is Rayla losing Callum. Callum has lost Rayla once and nearly lost her twice now, but we are yet to see Rayla do something to get Callum back (maybe we can include the ship scene but I don’t feel like it’s quite to the same extent that Callum has nearly lost her, if you get what I mean)… how do you think this is going to happen?! If at all? I LOVED season 5 and can’t wait for what happens next!!

I forget if I thought Callum would free Aaravos post-S3 or S2 (maybe, ever since the Key was introduced)? But definitely post TTM I thought he'd have a role to play there. I've always leaned towards it either 1) not being under possession, but coercion, or 2) if it is under possession, it's because Callum took a risk (and knew what he was risking being possessed by doing it). The writers always like force characters into being aware of the choices they're making / retaining agency even in the terrible choices they're making (i.e. Harrow being aware of and agreeing to Viren's plan to kill Zym in 3x06's flashbacks, rather than being ignorant and therefore blameless in it, which they easily could've done). I don't think Callum can just have a "whoopsie daisie I'm suddenly possessed again through no reaffirmed fault of my own decision making" since that kinda feels like it's letting him off the hook too much for whatever he does, but if they just want to go full throttle on the "no agency" angle, that would be a valid route of its own kind of horrific (even if it may not be the one from a theorizing standpoint I currently prefer but hey, canon could change my mind).

For Rayla and Callum, I think their arcs (intersecting and circling each other as always) are going to be opened and book ended, most likely, by Massive acts of love for each other for arc 2 (up till S6, most likely). Currently for both of them, they've done their initial, unhealthy "going to dark places is an act of love" for one another:

1) Rayla leaving during the timeskip / through the moon

and Callum doing dark magic about a season later to save her life

The fact the choice is something they both cover up and know the other person wouldn't like, the shouldering it alone, the "I have to. I love you too much not to," etc. I don't think it's a coincidence that a few episodes after Rayla reflects on what inspired her to leave — "I left without him because I couldn't bear to put him in danger. I knew I had to be strong alone" — and trying to be what she didn't want to be (a lone assassin) that we see Callum making a similar decision after he was forced back into a path he also didn't want to take (a dark mage), that Finnegrin got his head enough to warp him: "All that talk about how love makes you stronger" and Rayla making him 'weaker.' And, like Rayla, he keeps a secret to try and shoulder it alone, at least at first.

Which is in line of how he and Rayla were already starting to switch in S4, with Rayla acting more like him upon her return and Callum acting more like her because of her absence, and nicely leads up to them both reaffirming that they are each's strength and each other's weakness, eventually. (Good and bad, light and dark, pain and love. Two cakes!)

I always figured Callum would do something ultimately self destructive in order to save her, just because they tend to be very reciprocal (and he tends to hit her plot beats a season after she does, anyway) so it seems, due to the symbolism and framing and patterns, that Callum doing dark magic for her is his Narrative counterbalance for her leaving him in Through the Moon. (This is very in line with their S2 and S3 patterns as well, where Rayla saves him and Ez in a way from Soren and Claudia in S2, and then Callum saves her from Soren and Claudia over the dragon fiasco; as well as in S3, with Rayla risking her life to keep Sol Regem away from him, and then Callum jumping off the Pinnacle to save her, etc).

So what, you ask, is Rayla's big gesture moment - and what could Callum's reciprocal moment be? Well...

2) Rayla breaks Callum free of the brainwashing + identity reconciliation arc

This has been foreshadowed and set up for a variety of reasons — Rayla showing up in a halo of light and always reaffirming Callum's agency in S4; Callum asking her to be the one to kill him in 4x07, and this according quote exchange from the Book One Novelization ('"Wow. So they look identical, but they might kill you or they might save you,” Callum said. "Exactly," Rayla smiled. "Just like me"); Rayla's role being highlighted in the actual possession scene in 4x04 and Aaravos mocking her for being unable to kill; Rayla's epiphany in S5 about being "stronger together" at all. If you want more details on all of this I would heartily recommend this meta I wrote regarding Rayla's duality as Callum's salvation and destruction, written pre-s4, and then updated post-S5. Now moving on...

Book 6 is gonna be stars, and stars are associated with Destiny. So is dark magic with control. Thus, Callum confronting the destiny Aaravos has given him (and being possessed again by proxy) seems the most likely for this season. We also know we're going to learn about Rayla and Stella's history eventually (and given that Stella means star, and is connected to the Star primal) and it would make sense to get that backstory in S6 as well. We know we're learning more about the Key of Aaravos (rune cube) and most likely Leola (and her last wish) next season as well. Last but not least, S5 reveals that Rayla's parents can presumably be saved by using star magic / quasar diamonds, and that Callum is even more dedicated to freeing them to some degree than Rayla is, at least in terms of Prioritizing it.

Okay, but what does this all have to do with anything? Well...

It seems pretty certain that Rayla's Big Moment, as you've indicated, has to happen, and will be her refusing to kill Callum and instead breaking him free of the brainwashing. The strongest evidence is actually things I haven't touched on yet, which is that this dilemma and plot beat would resolve both of their character arcs that S4 set heavily into motion.

For Rayla, she's been struggling for seasons feeling like a failed assassin / that she can't kill someone, and that this is a weakness. The fact that it's Callum's life on the line vs the world ("my heart for Xadia") is just the icing on the cake and is a trolley problem she's faced before ("You let him live, but you killed us all!" / "No, you have two choices: you all die, or just the wretched, evil human dies"). So her not killing Callum, and instead saving him, would resolve her arc in a variety of ways:

Prove that her good soft heart is a strength and not a weakness

Reaffirm her love, devotion, commitment to Callum and promising to Not leave again

Prove to her that she can save people (4x05's "we can't save everyone") and that she won't always inevitably mess things up

Rayla refusing to sacrifice something, for once, for the good of the world

Her path in this is so straightforward there is little doubt in my mind, like, come on. It's not subtle and I love it

This isn't even touching on Rayla's parallels / thematic opposition to the other person vying for control over Callum, Aaravos, which if you're interested in you can read more about here. <3

Alternatively, Callum's side of things is far more complicated / less clear. This is for a few reasons:

There will be a choice, presumably, that leads to him getting brainwashed. The most obvious of these is him doing (dark? Star?) magic to free the Moon fam and Kpp'Ar from the coins, but it could be something else. Being willing to take a chosen risk opens up the door for him to feel responsible if/when he plays his role in Aaravos' plans (bc he presumably Has to, since S6 can't end well under any circumstances).

If he is randomly brainwashed, he will have to make a conscious choice to play into Aaravos' hands after breaking free from the brainwashing. This will probably be under coercion or due to a loved one (either Ezran or Rayla) being in danger or threatened. I've always leaned towards Rayla because they've had primary conflict for longer and her weird associations with the cube and its foreshadowing, and for a few other reasons I'll discuss here briefly below.

What's not in doubt, to me, is Callum - willingly or unwillingly - continuing on his dark path within Aaravos' clutches. Whether this would include breaking him free under coercion (but not brainwashing) is debatable, but we'll see when we get there I suppose (if we get there). What does need to be answered, here, is what Callum's Reciprocal Act of Love would be. It seems that he'll have to save Rayla back in turn from something, after all.

Likewise, there's a few options in no particular order:

He saves Rayla from having to make a terrible choice regarding her parents, either to have a life without them or for her to do dark magic to free them by taking that on himself.

A lot of Callum's identity changes have been because of her absence and subsequent shut down. Rayla reaffirming her identity by saving him is also the process by which Callum reaffirms his own identity by choosing her / being able to be saved. A mutual identity reconciliation happening simultaneously, if you will. And throwing off Aaravos' control certainly would be an act of love!

He frees Aaravos to save her life after she breaks him free of the brainwashing, since choosing Rayla and defying Aaravos could be choices that cannot be reconciled.

I lean towards something beyond the mutual Identity Reconciliation because I think 1) Callum being able to express his feelings for her is also very important to his growth for this arc and they've teased him saying "I love you" again quite a bit thus far and 2) I think Rayla, as a character and her core of sacrifice (what does it matter to her, after all, if she gets majorly injured saving Callum) would really benefit from being literally, reciprocally saved, but these are the various avenues I think are the most likely. But I do think their S6 (or whenever the possession plot line is resolved, maybe it is only in S7, who knows) arc is resolved, it'll be with a Big Act of Love from Callum as well, with Rayla's being saving him from said brainwashing.

Anyway, I hope this answered your question and that said answer wasn't too long! Thanks for asking & for reading <3

#rayllum #predictions #i need you to kill me #s5 #arc 2 #analysis series #analysis #thanks for asking #anonymous #requests #s6 speculation #s6 #surprising no one this is long #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp meta

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jamietarttdoooodooooo · 10 months ago

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Back Together Again l Chapter 5 I What the?

Pairing : Jamie Tartt x f!reader

Word count: 1207

Warnings: Language, drinking

Summary: You are Ted Lassos' daughter. You have known Jamie seen ten years olds. One day you come to see your dad but inside you could because you miss Jamie. You join the AFC Richmond team and realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend.

A/N: Hope you like it, trust me it will get better when I get to season three which is coming very soon.

It was finally the day of the gala. You woke up next to Jamie.

“Good morin’ babe” you say to Jamie thinking he was asleep but he was playing with your hair. “Morin’ princess, big day today. Can’t wait to see you in your dress.”

“Well we should probably get up because I have to be at Rebecca’s in an hour.” you tell him. You both get up then you get a text from Rebecca.

Rebecca

You don’t need to eat breakfast

I made some, so you can get

some when you're here.

Thanks Rebecca will have

some when we get there.

“Princess I have to go to Isaac’s to get ready” Jamie tells you from the front door. “Ok babe see you there”

You get ready and then quickly go over to Rebecca’s house.

You knocked on the door. “Hi Y/n I have breakfast and your dress. Also I think that dress will look so good on you.” Rebecca tells you.

“Well thank you Rebecca” you walk in and see Keeley and hug her. “Hi Y/n” Keeley tells you. “Come let’s go eat some breakfast” Rebecca says.

All you at breakfast and started to get ready. It was already 12pm and the gala started at 5pm. Rebecca was doing her make-up while Keeley was curling your hair and it took forever doing.

You swatted with Rebecca doing your make-up. “Rebecca, am I in the bidding?” you ask Rebecca. “The only people who are not are you and Jamie” Rebecca says.

That was perfect Jamie was dating you and you were dating Jamie it was the best thing ever. You could have Jamie all to yourself.

“Ok well I am going to put on my dress” Keeley says. Keeley got ready and came out with a beautiful dress on. “That’s a beautiful dress Keeley” you tell her.

“Thanks Y/n” then Rebecca went to put her dress on and it definitely looked like something Rebecca would wear. You also complimented Rebecca’s dress.

You went to put on your dress finally. You walk out of the room and they both gasp. You looked in the mirror thinking it looked bad. It looked beautiful, it was fitted in all the right places and your make-up made it even better and your hair was perfect with your hair down with curls. It looked perfect. The black dress still made your green eyes pop.

“You look so sexy you're going to get all the boys” Keeley tells you. “Thank you and thank god that I am not in the binning.” You told her.

“It’s so beautiful and so perfect” Rebecca tells her. “Thanks Rebecca for paying for this and picking it out.”

All of you get in the car and head out to the gala to set up. It was already 3 o’clock but you knew you girls could set this thing up in an hour.

“Where should I put the food over here or here?” Keeley asks you. “Over there” you say as you point where you want the food to go. It was already 4:30pm and meant only 30 minutes till the gala. You were trying to fund the poor.

The boys were already going on the red carpet. The food was set up. Jamie sent you a text that he was there and sometimes we had partners to talk to the press so Jamie was your partner.

“Hi Jamie” you said to him. “Are you ready to do this?” Jamie asks you. “Yeah, I am ready.”

You and Jamie walked down the red carpet together and took pictures together and talked to the press together. The press asks you normal things like how does it feel to be famous and how much money do you make.

Finally you were off the red carpet. “That was a hell of a time” you told Jamie. “Yeah it was, let’s go find our table.”

Your table was in the middle with Jamie, Dani, Isaac, Colin, Roy, and Keeley. “Hi Y/n” Colin says. “Hi Colin, you look nice,” you tell Colin.

You and Jamie sit at the table and Rebecca starts to talk till Rupert shows up. You remember when Rupert tried to higher you but made Rebecca talk to you about it.

Then after Rupert talked the binning was starting and starting off with Roy. Another woman, well an old lady was binning 1 million on him but luckily Keeley stepped in to bind on him for 1.2 million.

You went to the bar after that. You had three drinks before Jamie got there. “Hello Princess” Jamie said he had four already.

“Hi Babe” you said to him and you didn’t think about what you said. Jamie then pulled you to the boot room not checking if Will was in there you started to kiss and then in went to passionate kisses.

The next thing you heard was the whole team’s ous. You just kept kissing Jamie that turned into a make out and everyone just kept watching including your dad.

Everyone had left when you stopped making out. “Babe,” you say. “Yeah”

“Did you know everyone from the team was watching us do that” you ask Jamie. “No, I didn’t”

You and Jamie quickly left and went home. The thing is you and Jamie stayed in the car and made out some more.

When you woke up you noticed you were in Jamie’s car and surprisingly you remembered everything and so did Jamir. You both quickly went to the house and got ready for practice then got into the car again and said nothing to each other.

You got there to practice, Jamie ran into the locker room while you walked to the locker room. Everyone looked at you and Jamie had his head down.

“What! Just going to stare or say something?” you yell at them. “Why Jamie Tartt out of all the people like what the-” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence “Because I am so in love with him!” you yell.

Everyone was still staring at you and stared at you and Jamie throughout the whole practice, well some of the boys talked to Jamie.

“Well they did not take that well” Jamie told you as you got into the car. “And you didn’t either, you yelled at all of them.” Jamie says.

“Sorry just telling the truth sometimes” you told him. “Yeah I know but you could have said it not yelled it ok”

You and Jamie watched Stranger Things and went to bed not excited about tomorrow because it was the last practice before the last game of the season.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fic

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carmenized-onions · 2 months ago

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Oh my onions ,

This chapter was the first thing I saw when I opened my phone this morning and I immediately started reading cause when I tell u I have been waiting for it like crazy. I took a break and kept reading after my statistics class (master’s thesis kicking my ass thank u).

It was such a relief of the tension in the previous chapters, some honest moments between Carm and Tony and also the reality and craziness of their family and faks being around.

I am so curious to see how the DD and kids dynamic will unfold cause in season 3 I bawled my eyes out in the ice chips episode and I was so happy Sug is taking those baby steps towards redefining her relationship with her mom now that she herself is one. It would be nice to see some cathartic moments here too(obviously given the complexity of the relationships cause lord knows it’s fucked to the core).

HELL YOU ARE MAKING ME MISS CHRISTMAS NOW I KINDA WISH WE HAD LIKE A WEEK TILL CHRISTMAS IRL CAUSE I HATE THE SUMMER.

cuteness baby Michaela and Tony (hohoho make her and Carmy babysit pls pls)

RICHIE THE MAN THAT U ARE. he totally is an old fashioned in my brain so I get the whiskey and peaches thought Tony u are right.

Also …. Sydney baby I can sense the tension…. I see u getting off the floor … I SEE U NOT SAYING IT BACK SO ….

Also side note I always listen to music while reading this to set the cinematic vibe yk yk and today I happened to listen to father John Misty’s “I love u honey bear” and “everything is free” and COINCIDENTALLY they match the vibe quite perfectly make sure to check them out if that’s your vibe, I feel the lyrics to these 2 songs were kinda fitting to this chapter (are they my personal soundtrack that played in this episode ?! Yes they are !)

Can’t wait for next one u never fail! Can’t wait for the Christmas special if u will. ALSO 14 K I know u said for both our sanities it’s getting shorter but I’m so glad I saw a double digit no pressure my love Heheheheheh !!!! I gotta stop yapping stay safe till next one :)))))

AHHH I hope the next one isn't shit, we're dropping in like idk whenever I finish answering these last couple asks that i've let sit in my inbox for DECADES (a couple weeks). If I failed this time, no one tell me. Let's all let onion live in ignorance okay. a handful of times i was like "what if I simply restarted" at like 8k in.

But I've finished my final draft edits and I think it's fine. I think it's a very necessary chapter. It's like how I felt about Doing Too Much back in the day, but now that one's like, one of my faves in terms of how much it actually establishes--- ANYWAYS WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT let's talk about your talkings

I hope your thesis went/is going well!! It's been so fucking long where is everyone on their life projects. Me personally I'm applying to OTHER FUCKING JOBS. Who wants to pay me to write CK full time? I'm so fr.

Chapter 14 will always be that girl when it comes to tension breaking. Like christ. Two Steps Back is my favourite chapter to reread because I love Mikey and Chip and I also think I am the most in my bag when I'm writing sad shit but Chapter 14 is always nice when I'm havin a ROUGH DAYY

I hope. When I do eventually cover DD. Which is tragically for me, quite soon, that I do it fucking any justice. I'm very thankful for the compliments comparing me to canon but MAN if anything is a test of my ability to understand these characters, Donna is my final fucking exam. I am so bad. At writing moms. Just in general. Ice Chips was truly like my favourite episode of the season too, so I hope I can do all the fucking insane dynamics of adulthood blended with motherhood justice. I can barely do them justice in my own life, YKNOW??? man.

Me and my roommates take christmas so fucking seriously. As we have for the past... 3 years. And now that this is our first christmas living together again, I truly start gift planning now. did someone say psychotic? NO. i just PUT THE DATES OF EVERY SALE OF EVERY IMPORTANT RELEVANT RETAILER IN MY PERSONAL CALENDAR. I'M NORMAL. FUCK YOU I'M NORMAL!! what i'm trying to say is, it's christmas whenever you decide it's christmas.

Ohhhh Michaela Blurb. Someone request it someone request it. I so hope in S4 they let that man be a good Uncle. I know he avoids family like the plague but come on man. its a BABY!!!!!

I hope everyone loves the drink menu I have planned, or I mean--- Sorry, the drink menu chip has planned. Jerimovich you whiskey peach bitch da MAN YOU ARE!!!

It's s o hard to not write like a little bit of tension with Syd. Like I can't not. It's so in my brain I cannot get squidink out of there someone call the police dont actually

i love. when an indie bitch enters my domain. i love father john misty!! I can so see those songs. There's a lot of songs I adored for this chapter. I think my most probably unagreed with would be I Like It, by DeBarge--- Listen, I know it's so cheery-- But that's exactly it. That is so Song That's Playing At The Wedding Outside The Bathroom While We Full Breakdown In Here. HEAR ME OUT OKAY

We are,,, at 15k for this chap. Chap 14 was 14k,,,, I feel like Chap 16 is not going to be 16k (but rather, horrifically, more), but it'd be cute to continue the pattern. I'll attempt to reduce myself.

Also:

I WISH THEY MADE A CHICAGO JOKE IN CANON, esp with Carmen's drive by about Musicals in ep2? Come on man. Chicago's (the city) like. top 3 of american cities for theatre. what the fuck. SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTS???

i love chicago (the musical) (maybe also the city idk), so I had to give a little credit. And frankly, while writing that bit, I watched the moment back--- He did KIND OF RUN INTO IT, LIKE I HONESTLY THINK THAT WAS KIND OF AN ACCIDENT

anyways i'm gonna shut the fuck up now chapter out soon love you bye gotta answer more asks!!

#yapping #ask #espressoomartinii #don't say it

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foxilayde · 3 years ago

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Where To, Miss? [Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Blood, Violence, Guddling, unprotected Piv, Cigarette smoking, a Scottish Jake Lockley, an American writing Britishisms, Titanic references, and a pervy douche named Royce.

Summary: Jake Lockley is your driver, escorting you safely in your nighttime travels. There’s something about him. Tonight, you’re going to find out what that something is.

Word Count: 7.5K

A/N: If I tagged you in this, it’s no pressure, feel free to ignore. Love you.

Shoutout to @laters-gators for proofreading and idea bouncing and to @samsspade for so many many Jake HCs and for this lovely moodboard:

You hate the nights he doesn’t show up. The strange cabs the service sends don’t smell as good as his and his absence always leaves you wondering where the hell he could be so late at night. What other waitresses or late night women is he playing guardian angel to?

You can’t figure him out. When he does decide to pick you up, he always arrives a few minutes before you clock out for the night. The fare he charges is obscenely low. You can see on his dash that the ticker always says at least twice what he tells you. He’s quiet, stoic, and polite- if not a tad gruff. Something glimmers under the surface of him and the first time you got in his cab you had the SOS button of your phone locked and loaded. But now… now he’s just “Jake”. Your driver.

He’s been outside for over 5 cigs, leaning against his car, leather jacket lapels pulled up around his neck, lighting the next one with the butt of the last. His black cab is bathed in the yellow slufuric street lamp, puffs of smoke rise out of him, mingling with the London fog.

You’re usually off by now, and you would be if you weren’t training the new hire, Royce. The till is off, but that’s more Annie’s problem than it is yours and you sneak peeks to check if Jake is still waiting for you. He’s framed by the white fairy lights that line the front window of the restaurant. Cig 6 has made an appearance. He doesn’t seem agitated, and in a way, bathed in the light he looks like that golden statue bloke from Trafalgar square. You roll up another bale of silverware and he catches your eye and salutes you with his cig hand. You give him a little wave and spread your hand wide and mouth “5 minutes”. He gives one short nod and looks ahead again.

“This place is a goldmine!” Royce interrupts your reverie, reaching into the bin for silverware and bundling them sloppily next to you.

“You make good tips today?” You grab his hand and fix the fold on the bundle, “Like that, or Annie’ll have your head, yeah?”

Royce laughs, “I’ll get the hang of it one of these days!” He attempts the fold again, getting it good enough for now. “But yeah! Got a tenner from the last table. Didn’t think they’d tip me at all, that bird was furious I didn’t get her order straight.”

You nod, noncommittally. Royce is a talker. Great for a waiter, but your social battery is drained after a long day of fake smiles, and all you can think about is getting in that silent cab drive home and taking a bath with a glass of chilled Riesling.

“Say,” Royce starts up again. “That show I was telling you about, I’ve got the first season on DVD, it’s really worth a watch.”

You’re not sure exactly which show he’s referencing. Royce must’ve given you ten recommendations during this one six-hour shift alone.

“Yeah, sounded good. Should give it a watch.” You glance outside. Cigarette number 7. You catch his steady gaze on you and you forget how to do the fold.

“You take the bus?”

“Sorry? No. Not at this time of night. Recipe to get harassed, that is.” You nod toward the street outside. “I have a ride.”

Royce squints out the window.

“He your boyfriend? Looks a bit-“

“No” you reply automatically before he can finish whatever he’s about to assess from Jake’s stoic appearance. ‘Dodgy’ comes to mind. ‘Fit’ as well if you’re being honest. But you doubt that’s what Royce was about to intone.

“Okay, so he won’t mind giving me a ride, then?” Royce, you can tell, tries to sound nonchalant, but you get the feeling he’s trying to suss out if you’re… into Jake. If this is a thing…. It’s not a thing though. It isn’t. He’s your driver. He’s… Just Jake.

But the question. Would Jake mind? There’s something that tells you maybe he would mind giving Royce a ride. But that’s silly. Jake is a professional cab driver. It’s his job to give rides to strangers. You reach blindly into the bin, still staring out at Jake and the lamppost and the burning glow of the 7th cig, and there’s no more silverware.

“No,” you say to Royce, and at that very moment Jake’s eyes lock with yours again through the lighted window. You hold his gaze while you tell Royce, “he won’t mind a bit.”

~~~~

Annie is nearly in hysterics, tugging on her graying red hair while she sits at table 10 and tabulates, once again, on a printout calc.

“Alright, Annie?” You ask as you tie up your long coat round your waist.

“Oh, you know, just the end of my career, nothin serious.” She doesn’t look up at you, continuing with the calculator and shoving a yellow pencil between her teeth while she recounts the fives.

You fear you’ll interrupt her flow more than you’ll help with anything so you don’t even bid a good night when you walk out the front with Royce.

“Hi, Jake.” You give him a small wave, Jake nods at you with a slight smile, pushing off the side of his cab, he even tips his flat cap a bit before opening up the backseat for you.

You don’t make a move to get in right away, but you do hold his stare as you point at Royce. “Room for one more?”

Jake’s face falls only the amount that it had lifted. So, not much. Before Jake can answer, Royce is butting in with an outstretched hand and shakes Jake’s limp fist.

“Jake, is it? Royce, mate. Thanks for the lift, bruv. Much appreciated, cheers.” And he crawls in the backseat. Well… that’s Royce for you. You’ve only known him for the one shift, but yeah that tracks.

You give Jake an apologetic stare, squinting your eyes a bit. “I’m sorry,” you mouth more than whisper, “Is it okay?”

He stares at Royce in the cab for a moment before fixing you with his steady gaze, “Course.” He nods toward the door he’s still holding for you. Held for Royce. And you whisper “thanks, Jake” as you climb into the back.

For some inexplicable reason, Royce is already belted to the middle seat, like some kind of maniac. So you have no choice but to sit directly next to him. You buckle up while Jake gets adjusted and the car started up front. He tilts the rearview mirror just a tad, and when he does, you can see a perfect reflection of his shadowed eyes.

You shift in your seat, trying to put as much room between you and Royce as possible. At the very least, this ride won’t last long, your flat and your bath and your wine are only a short seven minute ride away. Jake takes off in the familiar direction, without you having to say anything, having taken you the same way many evenings before.

“We making one stop or two?” Jake asks, eyes on you from the mirror.

“Two” “One”

You and Royce give different answers simultaneously. Jake’s brows raise. Only a little.

Royce turns to you with confusion, “You said you wanted to watch that series with me, yeah?”

“I- I don’t remember saying that?? In fact, I definitely did not say that.”

“No, you did, when we were doing prep… I said I had the DVD at my place…”

You aren’t looking at Royce, you’re looking at Jake and his clenching jaw and the way his fingers grip the patent black steering wheel. Knuckles golden and deadly, shadows moving over every bit of him as you drive down the lighted streets of London.

“Whatever you thought you heard, Royce,” you sound tired, “I’m not going home with you. Two stops, please Jake.”

Jake nods, “Where to, mate?”

The car makes a stop at a red light and Royce answers lightly, “Oh, you can drop her off first. I don’t mind.”

Jake turns around as far as his body will let him while still remaining seated, face level and and aimed at Royce.

“I said, where to, mate?” The subtext is implied in his tone. I won’t ask again, mate.

Royce gulps audibly and gives Jake the address of his flat in Putney and you sit, tucked back as far as you can with your whole body. Away from the palpable tension and the obvious disruption you placed on Jake’s ritual of driving you home.

Fuck, you should have just said no to Royce. You should have told him Jake was your boyfriend, should have said the show he described sounded like least common denominator drivel and if he was trying to get you over to his flat, he really wasn’t selling it with that rubbish.

Jake faces front when the light turns green and he makes a sharp left in the direction of Royce’s place and you breathe out a sigh of relief that at least you’ll be home soon-ish, not as soon as you would have liked, but still.

And then Royce slides a hand on your knee.

“Come up to mine for a drink, eh? I think I still have some questions about the… drink menu. And we can watch that series… I know you don’t go in tomorrow till late, so… no excuses, eh?”

He smiles at you as if he were being smooth, as if you only rejected him to make him play harder. Sure, maybe to some Royce would be considered smooth. He doesn’t seem the type who gets told ‘no’ very often and frankly seems like the kind of bloke who would throw a fit if things didn’t go his way.

And then, bugger, then you have Mr. White Knuckles MacDuff up front, and you’re afraid he’s going to tear the damn steering wheel off the column if Royce keeps talking about going up to his flat.

You swallow thickly for a moment, thinking of the best way to de-escalate this situation.

“Not tonight, Royce. I really am tired” you pat his hand dismissively, but he leans closer and nearly whispers in a clearly seductive tone,

“I don’t mind if you fall asleep.”

His breath is way too close for comfort and- Huh? He doesn’t mind if you fall asleep? Was he trying to say that seductively? And what did that mean exactly? Fall asleep? On his couch, during the boring series? Or in his bed? Or…during sex?

“Um- Royce!” Your voice grows panicked feeling his breath draw closer to your neck, his hand sliding up your black trousers.

Jake slams on the breaks just as you shove Royce off of you, the combined momentum causes Royce’s face to collide with Jake’s headrest, there’s a loud crunch and you hold your hands to your face when you see Royce’s nose drip with blood, tears springing up in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Royce! Are you okay?”

He fumbles with his seatbelt in exaggerated agitation, clicking it open and scooting far away from you.

“You’re a crazy bitch!” His voice is wet with snot, tears, and blood and he groans into his cupped hands. The car starts moving forward again.

“I’m crazy? Keep your fucking hands to yourself!”

“You didn’t need to crush my fucking nose!”

You don’t care that it wasn’t on purpose, that you only wanted to shove him off of you. You don’t care that if Jake hadn’t slammed on the breaks Royce would have only gotten a slight push.

“Apparently I did! I said no, didn’t I?” Adrenaline courses though you and you hold your elbows and grip your middle, securing yourself and trying to breathe steadily through your nose.

You meet Jake’s alighted eyes in the mirror and then look to Royce who is using the hem of his black polo to wipe at the blood. He mutters something that sounds like “leading me on” and “fucking bitch”. You bite your tongue, unwilling to further exacerbate the situation by shouting at him that he’s a pervy little fuck and for him to definitely NOT come into work tomorrow. That you don’t care if it’s Saturday and the restaurant will be packed, you’d rather wait on 18 tables by yourself than see his ugly mug ever again.

Oh fuck. Your job. If Royce wants to get you in trouble, he definitely could. And it’s not as though you’re Annie’s favorite employee. She probably blames you for the till fiasco this evening, not to mention the missed shift from two weeks ago. Fuck.

“Royce,” you sigh, “I’m sorry, It was accident, I swear, I-“

But Jake stops the car at a sign on a flat-lined street and Royce is out the door before you can finish your exhausted apology. Shit. He slams the door and jogs over to a red brick high rise down the lane and he’s inside before you can even fully register that he’s gone. You slump back in the seat and groan.

“Fuck!” You shake your head and meet Jake’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m sorry Jake, I definitely wouldn’t have-“

Your attention is caught by a glowing rectangle on the seat next to you. Royce’s phone. He forgot his fucking phone in the cab. Great. This just keeps getting better and better.

“Urrrggh, wait here. Royce left his phone, I’m gunna go up and give it to him.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and make to open the door, but Jake puts the car in motion and parks at a spot in front of the high rise that Jake disappeared into.

“Like hell you are. Give it to me” He turns around to face you with an outstretched hand and there’s no arguing with Jake. Not that you were particularly keen to face Royce’s bloody nose again, or to be anywhere near his stupid flat and collection of shit DVDs.

You slap the phone into his palm and he mutters, “Be right back.”

You call after him, “I’ll just keep the meter running, yeah?” You think you see his mouth pull up into a smile as he enters the building.

~~~~~

He drags his finger along the list of names, there’s only 7 and it takes no time at all to find “Royce”. He taps it twice and takes the stairs to the fifth floor. He’ll make it quick. He doesn’t want to keep you waiting, especially not in an unlocked running car so late at night. But he knows he’s efficient. At least he can trust that about himself. In and out.

The barmy shit is lucky the pistol is in the glovebox. Jake raps on the door twice, shifts on his feet and shoves his cap into his back pocket like he’s paying respects.

The door opens quickly, Revealing a damaged looking Royce, blood tracks down his chin and a washcloth dangling from his fingers. Jake nods up at him casually,

“Oi, Royce. Got summa for ya.”

Royces eyebrows knit in confusion as Jake tosses the phone in a small arc at his pecs. Royce catches the device with both hands against his chest, and it’s only a split second between the moment he looks up at Jake and a firm fist collides with the side of his head.

~~~

It’s been five minutes. Should you go up and check on him? You start to get antsy. Maybe they’re chatting? Talking footie? The car is still running and the ticking of the meter is fueling your anxiety. You reach up to the driver’s side and power lock all the doors. There. That’s a bit better. One less thing to worry about. Now you can focus all your attention on worrying about what in the hell is taking Jake so long.

Maybe the lift is broken? Maybe Royce isn’t answering his door?

You sit back and actually twiddle your thumbs with impatience, staring at the glass door of the bricked Tennant building. You think about laying on the horn at this ungodly hour and nearly resort to it before you see Jake striding quickly out the doors, a flung glance over his shoulder before he puts his cap back on and reaches for the locked door handle.

“Bollocks” you mutter under your breath, you crouch forward to undo the power lock. Jake gets in and he’s heaving breath, buckling up and reversing, arm over the seat next to him, eyeline at his blind spot. He adjusts and looks ahead before angling his mirror to your new spot in the middle seat. Eyes on you in the oblong reflection. His eyes seem brighter, more wild and his breaths seem heavy, like he just ran several flights of stairs. The energy coming off of him is tense and electric and when he gruffly asks you “Where to, miss?” With a strain to his voice, it makes you tingle all over, recalling a line from a film.

“To the stars!” You say breathily before laughing with an embarrassed heat on your skin. Why would you have said that? What is wrong with you? A Titanic reference? Okay, yes the line he gave you reminds you of the movie, and he looks a little like Fabrizio or something with his flat cap, and you can’t pin it but there’s something hot and thick pouring off of him that makes you shift in your seat and your tummy twist being in such cramped proximity.

“To the wha’?”

You wave your hand at him, “It’s nothing, nothing. It’s just a line from a film.”

“What film would that be?” You can only make out his smile from the limited angle profile of his jaw, but the way the muscles in his face are pulled up combined with the squint of his eyes in the mirror makes you giggle like a fucking schoolgirl.

“It’s from… Titanic.” You cover your face with your hands and breathe out an “oh god”

“Is it a good film?” Jake asks, his eyes aren’t on the road, they’re on you, but you aren’t worried about his driving skills. You know he has it all under control and it strikes you as only mildly bizarre that you trust this man with your life.

“You mean to tell me,” you rest your hand on his seat, “that you haven’t seen Titanic?!” You’re flirting. You. Are. Flirting. With Jake. Yes, bizarre, of course… but? The way he basically told Royce to fuck off and then delivered the phone so you wouldn’t have to? There really is something about him, that thing you could never quite put your finger on, the thing that Royce was trying to suss out, that extra layer of simmering something that hangs around him like a curl of smoke.

You lean forward and rest your chin next to your hand on the back of the middle front bench.

He flips on his right front blinker and chuckles with a guarded sound.

“It’s a romance, innit? Nah, cannot say that I have.” He inclines his head a little toward you. You can smell him. Leather and something like cherry. Maybe a car freshener. The angle and the sight makes you nervous, but in a good way, in a way that makes you feel safe, like he’ll never have to look forward again and can keep staring at you like this forever, he can take you wherever you heart desires and not even need to glance at the road to do it.

“It IS a romance… but it’s more than that. It’s a tragedy! Downright shakespearean.” You bite your lip and his eyes flick at your teeth for a second before turning his attention back on the road and accelerating.

The vroom of the engine vibrates through the leathers of the backseat where your bum is perched, still leaning forward looking at Jake.

“Aye? And so what happens when she asks the cabbie to take her to the stars then, eh?”

You bite your lip again and smile, gazing at the lifted collar of his leather jacket. You have an urge to flatten it, to get a better look at his neck.

“He isn’t actually a cabbie. Just pretending.”

Jake hums in thought. “It’s just what I say to any lass. Force a habit. Where to miss”. He turns to face you again when the car hits another red light. “I know exactly where I’m taking you.”

You know he’s implying that he’s taking you home, but the way he says it makes it seem like he knows exactly what happened in the film after Rose said that to Jack. When she pulled him into the backseat and kissed his fingers.

He faces forward again and you realize you’re still crouched forward in a strange pose gawking at the side of his face, his angular scruffy jaw, and so you right yourself. Sitting back into the bench of the cab and breathing out a sigh.

“What took you so long, then?”

“What’s that?” Jake looks left and right before making a turn onto the main road.

“You were up there for a minute. Was afraid you’d taken up Royce on his offer to watch a series.”

Jake chuckles, “Ah, no. I couldn’t find the flat. Got ripped into by an old lady on the third floor for waking her up.”

You sit in silence and nod.

“Plus the lift. Broken.” He scratches the stubble at his jaw and you catch a flash of his knuckles in the yellow street light that whips past. They look… covered in something. Dirt, maybe? It's in such an awkward place though, coating the back of his palms, his knuckles.. His hands were clean when you’d started your journey. You’d noticed them earlier, fisting at the wheel.

“What’s that on your hands?” You lean forward again to get a better look.

Jake shifts his hands on the wheel from 10 and 2 to 5 and 7, out of your line of sight.

“Nothing.”

It sort of looks like…no. He didn’t. Did he?

“Jake!” You lean forward again, this time further, but still can’t make out what it could be with his upturned palms on the bottom of the steering wheel. Jake stops the car at a red light and his jaw ticks with agitation.

“Leave it.” He says with the same unwavering coolness with which he spoke to Royce earlier. You reach for his leather clad arm and try to tug at it, but his other hand comes up and grips your wrist- and in the red traffic light you can see the thick red-brown coating on Jake’s knuckles. The knuckles that have your wrist painfully seized.

Your eyes grow wide with shock, and when you pull your hand away from his coated arm you say steadily, “Jake. Let me out.”

The light turns green and Jake is off again, going a tad faster than before. Or perhaps it’s just your imagination that he is.

He sighs out in agitation, “Let me get you home first.”

“No. Now.”

He isn’t hiding his hands now, but his brow is furrowed at you in the mirror. “It’s not safe for you to walk the rest of the way, I’ll drop you off and won’t bother you again. Just let me get you home safe, lass.”

“Jake. Pull over. Now.”

Jake mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath and pulls over on the car-lined residential street, finding a free spot on the curb under an elm.

You didn’t realize you hadn’t put your belt back on, so exiting his vehicle is no problem, the only hindrance being your racing thoughts, hands not quite cooperating on the handle. When you get out, you slam the door and make your way quickly in the direction of your destination.

Jake bows his head forward, turning off the car and thunking his brow on the wheel once and closes his eyes. But his head quickly jerks up when hears you opening the passenger side door, sliding in on the seat next to him.

“What’re you doing, lass?”

You scoot as close to him as the shifter will allow and you hold your palms up this time in offering. Not trying to tug his hand off the steering wheel.

“Let me see?” You hold Jake’s searching gaze for a moment, he bites his lip and faces forward, not looking at you when he forfeits one of his blood coated appendages.

“Chirst, Jake….” You whisper, gingerly handling his rough hand, holding it at an angle near the windshield to get the most light. You click your tongue. You make a grabbing motion with your fingers and he gives the other one to you easily. The spattering looks almost identical, knuckles dipped in blood, flecks on his wrists. If his clothes weren’t so dark you’re certain you’d see stains there as well. There’s maybe slightly more blood on the left hand. A southpaw, perhaps. Good for driving manual.

“Are you okay?” You’re holding both of his hands in yours, transfixed by the brutality of the blood painted digits. You can feel his eyes on you and you absentmindedly stroke them with your thumbs, the blood is drying; already flaking and cracking in parts. Just a glimmering salty sheen that glides under the pads of your thumbs.

“‘m alright, yeah.”

You meet his gaze and there’s no other word for it but smoldering. His eyes are hot and glowing like the cherry end of a cig. You bring his knuckles up to your face for closer inspection and you- you kiss them. You kiss the warm, slightly sticky flesh of his knuckles, barely a press of your lips and you whisper into them, still holding his gaze, “You shouldn’t have done that. Didn’t need to do that… for me.” You kiss the other set of knuckles and his fingers tighten around yours slightly.

“I did what I had to.”

“And what… what did you do?” You’re not sure what you want the answer to be, but there exists some sick part of you that wants him to tell you that he beat Royce into an unrecognizable pulp. The thought of it makes you exhale shakily and you lick your bottom lip finding a barely there sheen of blood. Royce’s blood.

“He won’t bother you again.” Christ his voice is deep. Almost a growl. His eyes go half-hooded, taking you in now, your lips pressing more firmly into the flesh of his thick hands, you straighten out his fingers, mirroring them up to your own hands, and you kiss the more innocent, unbloodied pads of them.

As you kiss one set of fingers, his other hand cups your jaw and he smooths his thumb over your soft cheek. His hand is rougher than it should be for a cabbie and you suppose he has many callous deeds scattered on the trail of his past; and if you couldn’t tell by his fingers, then you ought to know by the look in his eyes- dark, haunted, and alluring: the maw of a door you probably shouldn’t walk through.

“You aren’t scared?” His eyes tighten slightly at the question, but you can’t help but stare at his lips and the slight gap in his brilliant teeth that peeks out of his now parted mouth, exhaling hotly when he swipes his soothing thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it to the side before letting it plump out again. His tongue peeks through his teeth slightly, only for a moment, like he’s halting himself from tasting you.

Your hip is digging into the shifter between you, but you don’t care; only wanting to lean into his palms, and let guide you with his bloody hands to the stars and back.

“No, Jake. I’m not scared.” You search his eyes, flickering back and forth between the hot lit ends of his burning irises. “Should I be?” You whisper against his fingers, placing another warm kiss.

Jake shakes his head. “Not of me. No.”

His eyes scan your face with a deafening silence. This neighborhood is quieter than yours. You look hazily at the delicate curve of his upper lip. He leans towards you and it knocks the breath out of you when he grabs the other side of your face and kisses you tongue-first, pulling your body even deeper into the handle of the shifter- you cry out in pain at the pressure in your side and Jake breaks the kiss at the sound.

“What’s the-”

But before he can get his question out, you're remedying the situation. Unbelting your long coat and shucking it off, letting it rest crumpled in the passenger’s seat. His eyes grow darker still- taking in your wanton desperation. He reclines his seat slightly to accommodate your maneuver over the shifter to straddle his lap.

Fuck. He’s hard as a fucking gear shift. His hands grab your hips and guide you back and forth on his straining length. Your breath mingles with his- hot and slow like the slip of his tongue against yours. You grab his hair, swiping his cap off and let it fall behind him, to floor the backseat. His curls are a beautiful flattened mess and your run your nails along his scalp, savoring the warm hum of air that mmmms out of his nose in pleasure against your cheek. He’s pushing down on your low back now, rising his hips to meet yours and you break the kiss momentarily in a pleased whine when you feel the head of his cock pressing lovely and insistent on your clit, evident and pronounced even through the layers between you. He slips his hands under your trousers, under the silk of your seamless panties, grabing the swell of your bum, squeezing the soft shapely flesh, pushing, pushing puuuushing you onto him.

Fuck, you could cum like this. Right here in the front seat, where anyone could walk by and watch you through the windshield. Even between your trousers and his, like a horny teenager in the back of the cinema, bloody hands squeezing your bare flesh, you could cum. You can feel the potential sparking at your spine and the open heat of your core that calls for his hardness.

And god, the way his fingers grip the meat of your ass, massaging the top of it with his deadly hands. Hands that protected and defended you, pushing you insistently onto his hard cock in a languid rolling dance that forces hot breath out of your nose while you continue to lick his competent tongue.

Those same hands travel up the curve of your low back, rubbing up the column of your spine, and as they rise, they take your polo tee with it. He breaks the kiss to lift it over your head and even without the guidance of his hands, you don’t stop your grinding on his lap.

You take in his dark eyes, hunger apparent in them, feasting on the sight of you in your plain black bra. He bites the top of your breast with a growl and you brace your hands on his knees, leaning back, spreading your torso out for him like a banquet. He flips your cups down and sucks greedily at your nipple and thank fuck every window of the cab is beginning to frost over with heat of your breaths.

His eyes glow up at you, nipple between his teeth and you bite your lip, bucking your hips into him at this new angle. He groans at your fervent action, unhooking the back of the bra and flinging it to who the fuck cares where. He pulls you flush against him- torso against his leather jacket, leaning himself back in the slightly reclined seat.

With you raised up on his lap, his face is at the perfect level for your tits, and fuck if this isn’t also the most divine angle to rub against him. He sucks your tits like a fucking dream, reading every ounce of pleasure on your face. He breaks the suction to lick flat and hot and whisper into you chest, “cum for me, lass. Cum on it.” Your abdomen contracts hotly with the command and you nod with a whimper, he sucks your nipple again, more gently and you soothe the curls away from his forehead.

“Jake,” you whisper.

His hands, his bloody hands, are squeezing your tits gently and his eyes are so fucking dark underneath his lovely brow, lips still sucking at your peak. You press down even deeper into his lap and you whine in frustration.

“Jake, need more. Please.”

He plants his forehead between your breasts as he lifts your hips off of him, pulling your silk panties and trousers down, helping you to balance on one knee then the other to get them down your legs. He even removes your work shoes and socks. Squeezing your naked insteps lovingly with this brutal hands before grazing his hands up the curving length of you. Following your body with the tips of his fingers, tracing the span of your calves, over your knees, up your thighs and up to the swell of your undulating bum and back again. His mouth back at your chest, nipping and sucking.

Fuck it feels so much better like this; your whole naked body rubbing up on his rough, hard clothed exterior. You tilt his head up and lick into his mouth again. His lips are so plump from his attentions to your tits. Your bare sopping cunt rubs vigorously on the seam of his tented zipper and you moan hotly into his mouth. He swats your bum affectionately, and then he’s back to guiding you on him, back and forth. Back and forth.

You want more. You want him inside of you. His hardness is so tantalizing and your cunt is trying with everything she has to suck him into you. You don’t just want it. You need it.

“Jake," you press your forehead to his, “protection?”

“Uh huh.” He pants at you. Still grunting, still sliding your cunt over his encased length.

“Where?”

“Glovebox.” He whispers against your neck before suckling onto it. You lean over and back a little, Jake leans with you, licking and nipping at your neck, squeezing your bum and making sure your cunt doesn’t stray too far from his lap.

You find the latch of the box and search blindly for anything that feels like a paper box or a foil packet. Your eyes go wide as you grip onto the handle of….

“Oi, what’re you doing, lass? Give me that.” He takes the pistol from your limp hand and tosses it back into the glovebox, latching it up before fixing you with an inquiring expression. He smooths your hair tenderly with his gruff palms. “What’re you doing?”

What are you doing? What is he doing with a fucking gun in his glovebox?? “I’m looking for some protection, like I said!”

He squints at you and you roll your naked hips once again onto him and he “oh”s with recognition.

“Ah, well. I don’t have that brand of protection.”

“You have a gun and no Johnnies?”

“I have two guns and no Johnnies.” He bucks up into your hips.

“Why’s that?”

“I tend to use that sort of protection more often.”

Does he mean he’s a killer? Using his gun frequently. Needing two on hand at all times? Or is it because he doesn’t use prophylactics? You don’t ask, not sure you want to know, not sure which you’d prefer. You let him drag you ever closer to him, bringing your chest back in position, flush with his leather jacket and kissing your mouth sweetly.

“I’ve never needed a Johnnie on the job before.” He grunts, angling his hips even closer to you. Your poor cunt, rubbed raw from the harsh denim- despite the trails of slick darkening and dampening his trousers, it fucking hurts… even still, your hips chase the friction of his hot cock and you whine each time your clit smashes the damp straining material.

“Oh, fuck, Jake.”

“Can you cum like this, lass? Be good and cum for me, just like this?”

You grab his hair again and whimper. It’s not like your’re not trying, and of course if feels fucking good, but-

“I need more.” You whine, hips betraying you and galloping on him, soreness be damned.

Jake brings his left hand between your cunt and his cock and angles two fingers up into your slippery cunt. He slides in easily and you “oh” in releief, at your cunt having something to clench on. You rock your clit onto the meat of his palm as he strokes his fingers, curling into the spongy spot that makes you see stars.

“Jake” you cling to his shoulders and rock on his fingers with sloppy motions, grinding onto his palm and whining when his fingers rub that spot. Oh fuck. That spot.

“Like that, love? Yeah? Good girl.”

Your lip quivers and you mouth at his neck, “Jake” you breathe “Need more, please.”

Jake groans and shifts his hand, cupping your sex more forcefully with his palm and flexing his fingers harder inside of you, earning a wet little moan and rolling hips with a mind of their own, clamping down and sucking on his blood coated digits. You bite his ear gently.

“Fuck, Jake. Need your cock. Please.”

“I don’t have any-”

“I know, I don’t care, please, please, please,” each ‘please’ is a desperate roll of your hips on his hand. Begging, begging, begging. You don’t care. It can’t be worse than the blood on his fingers. It can’t be worse than the ache inside of you. You need to feel him. All of him.

Jake growls and doesn’t move his hand from your cunt as he undoes his trousers with his right hand, pushing the fabric down only enough to spring his length free. He still doesnt move his fingers from their place at your front wall when he lifts you with his cunt-coated hand, and eases his length into you. Fuck. Well you supposed you asked for it. Kept begging for more. And now you have it. You scream softly into his scalp, adjusting to the alien sensation of being so incredibly full of a thick cock plus two strong digits. Holy shit.

He fucks into you shallowly at first, never ceasing the rubbing of his fingers at your g-spot. His fingers are so coated with you that there’s no catch between his cock and his hand, the sensation unlike anything you’ve experienced and wholly overwhelming. You’re being so deliciously spread and speared, rubbed and reamed. He’s all directions inside of you and you don’t even need to move your body. You lay limp and helpless on him, clutching his leather clad shoulders while he bottoms out in you, and beckons your orgasm closer and closer with each curl of his fingers.

“Jake, so good. So good.” you whine, moving your hips only slightly to press your clit into his palm.

“Good, love. Good.” He kisses your temple tenderly, hot breaths fanning into your hairline where his nose presses against your scalp. “Such a good girl. Taking me so good, love.”

“Mmmmhmm” you cry into the raised lapels of his leather jacket. He’s bottoming out on your cervicx every time he lifts his hips, and you hit the base of his fingers with every hip rock down, like some kind of fucking seesaw made out of pressure and pleasure. Fuck, you’re a mess. The wet sounds fill the humid air of the cab, the windows fully fogged now, you can’t tell, but If someone were to walk by on this quiet street they’d definitely see the swaying of the vehicle and hear your soft whines from at least a few feet away.

God, he could have taken you home, has the fucking car to do it obviously. He could have stopped you at any point to say ‘let’s finish this back up at yours?’ Stopped on the way and got protection, stopped to wash his fucking hands at the very least. But somehow this is better. Naked, in the open, blood stained hands, and raw cock buried in you. Needy and quick, rough and dirty. That’s the thing about Jake. The glimmer of the animal bruteness with the guardian angel glow. He’s got you in his arms and even though you’re exposed, even though he’s bare inside you, you’ve never felt safer.

Jake uses his free hand to grip the back of your neck and he locks eyes with yours.

“You going to cum for me, sweet thing? Cum on my fingers and my cock like a good girl?”

He doesn’t demand it, he’s asking, sussing out if there’s something else he can shove up your quim, probably.

You tug on the wrist crushed beween your bodies. “Give me your hand.”

He gets in two more toe curling strokes before he slips his hand out from under you and lets you take his two pruny, bloody, slick fingers in your mouth down to the base, licking your tongue in between them. You grab onto his wrist with both hands, tasting yourself and his cock and the blood all mixed together in some kind of erotic tincture that makes you buck and grind onto him. loving the hard feel of his pubic bone against your clit.

“Good girl. That’s right, love. Fuck yourself onto me. That’s right.”

His other hand is still behind your head while you suck his digits and the position makes it seem like he’s feeding you his tainted fingers; maybe he is. You moan around them, salty and rough, clutching his leather-sleeved arm. The sucking sounds of your mouth match the sucking wet grip of your cunt. Fuck he’s making you such a mess. You never want to leave his lap, you could fuck yourself on his thick cock all night, in this parked car, right here, right here, right fucking here. Oh shit.

Jake feels it before you do, “Can feel ya, love. Can feel you right there.”

You nod as if he asked you a question and your mouth goes still and slack around his fingers as you grind deeply onto him and cum.

Fuck, you’re lucky it’s late enough that there’s no one walking by because when your knees buckle as your orgasm sweeps through you, you reach out your hand to the side and grip onto the sweat fogged window for balance, your fingers catch just barely before sliding down and wiping a big fucking ‘look-here’ hole right in the driver’s side window.

He pulls his hand gently out of your mouth and clutches you round your middle, fucking your limp convulsing form through the arcs of pleasure running hot down your spine.

“Oh good girl, love. Cumming on it so good. Christ, I wanna fill you up. Where, sweet girl?”

All you can do is whimper, still shaking with pleasure washing over every hot slick inch of your skin, melting into Jake and sliding down his length easier and deeper than before.

“Gonna need more than that love, tell me where you want it.” You can feel him strain and shake between your thighs and under the leather of his jacket, still fucking up into you, his cock getting harder with every thrust.

He’s gritting his teeth in concentration, dark eyes boring into yours and you wickedly wonder how long you can keep him here on the precipice, not giving him an answer. How long he’d wait for you to give him permission to cum in you. He’s bursting at the seams already. Woud he cum in you without you asking? Would he pull out and shoot it onto your belly?

“Fuck!” he swears, lifting your hips off him, but before he can detach, you press your hips down flush against his and he bites your shoulder when he cums, pulsing inside of you, a series of relieved groans, fingers gliding up and down your back.

You push his head back to the rest and lick into his languid mouth, rocking on him gently, savoring the heartbeat and pulse of his cock as his pleasure gradually subsides. You catch your breath together, scratching his sweat-slicked scalp slowly

“Come back to mine, yeah?” You kiss his lips hungrily and grasp his hands, twisting his fingers with yours. “Let me bathe you. Pour you some wine? I think I might even have a DVD or two that’ll interest you.” You both laugh against each others lips.

“I’d love to,” he sighs. You attempt to raise yourself off him, but he grips your hips, keeping you glued to his lap. “Not yet, love. Let me hold you, yeah?”

You sink down onto him easily and sit luxuriating in relieved stillness for a few minutes more, stroking each other’s hair, licking and kissing slowly, still joined together, his spend lazily leaking out of you with every passive moment of gentle touch and encouraging whispers. You forget all about the viewing hole you wiped in the window. Let them see. Who cares? It’s not like they’d do anything to you, not while Jake’s here.

END

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

No pressure tags- some of these are requested, and some of these are just people I've seen interacting with my writing-- (if you’d like to be added or removed from taglist, please DM me)

@crystalchrysalis19 @love-on-the-murder-scene @dopeqff @miraclesabound @loudlibrary @eichenhouseproperty @underyourbedrn @emilykjh @batsycatsyclown @themartiansdaughter @princessxkenobi @smiley-asylum @ozarkthedog @sunfairyy @winchestershiresauce @stevenngrant @moon-kn1ght @autumnleaves1991-blog @brandyllyn @mstgsmy @temptressofwaikiki @writefightandflightclub @hotchlover-blog @jellybelle @beepboopyoda @blackberries45 @kikis-writing-world @teacore-hunny @budcooper @kesskirata @pumpkin-stars @nowritingonthewall @mariesackler @millllenniawrites @revolution-starter @youvebeenlivingfictional @aerolanya @winniedaboo96-blog @general-latino @mylifeisactuallyamess @picklesgoose @isvvc-pvscvl @paper-n-ashes @21stcenturywitchcraft @astroboots @heresathreebee @odleisidle @theidiotsincontrol

#Jake Lockley x reader #Jake Lockley x You #Jake Lockley fanfic #Moon Knight fanfic #Oscar Isaac #Marvel fanfic #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley smut

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softsnzstuff · 2 years ago

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Sick streamer Steve doing an irl stream out in public with Eddie <3 he has an allergy attack and Eddie has to take over the camera for a bit and entertain chat while you can still very clearly hear Steve sneezing in the background

Where are you guys?

Why are you in a forest? 😩

Watch out for axe murderers

“Oh my god, relax guys. We’re just on a walk. No murderers here.” Steve rolled his eyes, looking above the phone’s camera as he walked.

He had decided a little fresh air would be good for him and Eddie. The weather was phenomenal after all.

“Ask us things!” Eddie called over Steve’s shoulder.

Chat went nuts at the opportunity.

Favorite color?

U a top or bottom lols

Why are you outside tho???

Eddie walked quicker to look at Steve’s phone. He pointed at the screen. “Black! Or red. But definitely one of the two.” Eddie answered about his favorite color.

Steve scrolled, “ew we’re not answering that one.” He mumbled. “We’re outside because I made Eddie come for a walk with me.”

Who would win in a fight? Mario or Sonic?

Where are you going?

Best season??

“Mario, duh.” Eddie scoffed, reading the screen. More comments flooded in as Eddie defended his answer. “Listen, okay?? All Sonic does is what? Run fast? Mario is SO much more versatile! There’s no competition!”

Steve waited till Eddie was done before he moved onto the next questions.

“We’re going to the snF park…” the brunette rubbed at his nose with a knuckle, trying to ward off the tickle that was working its way deeper into his nose.

“Best season??” Eddie interpreted as he wanted to, “of Criminal Minds? Five. Definitely.”

“I think they meant snrFF seasons in the year…” Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as he turned to the side, loosely aiming towards his arm, “AEI’sssh’EW! H’iKSHh’iew!”

Eddie, who as walking beside him, jumped out of the way, over dramatically screeching, “EW!”. Spray hung in the air momentarily as Steve wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.

“Bless you.”

Bless you!

Don’t sneeze on Eddie!!

Are you sick?

“Thanks guys. Snlrff. No, not sick. My allergies can get bad sometihhh times… H’eKSHh’EW! ISSHiew!!”

“Bless you again.” Eddie said.

They finally reached the park that was serving as their destination. It was really just a clearing in the trees with picnic tables in the middle. It was just off the main cement path, but far enough away from the playground and family areas.

Why did you decide to stream?

Where’s Robin?

Coming to StreamCon in Manhattan this year?

Steve plopped himself down at one of the picnic tables, Eddie sitting on the table part and resting his arms on his knees.

“I started streaming because I got bored! Wanted someone to talk to when I played games and shit.” Steve laughed, pawing again at his itchy nose.

“Why do you guys wanna know about Robin?” Eddie joked. “She’s not even that cool.”

Steve elbowed him and they both laughed. “I’m only joking! She’s doing some gardening with Nancy today.” Eddie admitted.

“Are we coming to Manhattan?” Eddie smirked, “Steve wanna answer that one?”

He turned to face the younger man, who appeared to be struggling with a stuck sneeze. His lips were parted, eyes closed, and nostrils flaring.

“Hehhh hell yeah we’re chiiihh coming…” there was a pause before he inhaled sharply - a false start. “HEH!”

“For Christ sake Stevie, just sneeze already.” Eddie rolled his eyes at the other’s dramatics.

“Cahhh can’t…”

“Give me that.” Eddie grabbed the phone out of Steve’s hand, turning it on himself, “Okay guys, give Steve a minute. And uh, headphone users? Take them out now or forever hold your peace.”

What do you mean?

Wait we need more warning

Oh shit…

Eddie leaned towards Steve, using his pointer finger to trace down the bridge of his nose before bopping it right on the tip.

“Fuhhck Eddie… HISSSSH! ISSSSH’ieww! TISSH!”

The older man leaned away, grinning into the camera, clearly proud of the results he’d had.

“Bles-”

“IK’tchEW! Tch’IEW!!”

Steve, doubled over, stood up and stumbled off towards the tree line so as not to interrupt the live stream. His sneezes still audible in the background.

Bless you times a lot

Is he okay?

Where’s he going?

Hello Steve?

“Gosh, sorry about him.” Eddie teased.

“As I was saying. Yes we’ll be-”

“Itssch!!”

“-in Manhattan for StreamCon this year.”

“H’etsssch! ISSH!!”

“I’m super excited to meet you all and I know Steve is too.” Eddie jokingly looked over his shoulder, knowing the man couldn’t respond. “Right Steve??”

“Aesssh’IEW! HISSSSH!”

Eddie’s mischievous grin turned into a concerned frown.

“Gosh he really isn’t stopping is he?” He looked at the camera again, “I’ll bet you guys anything he forgot to take his allergy pills this morning…”

Of course he did

STEVE!

Oh my god what a himbo ☠️

Get him the pills dammit 😩

“Alright guys I’m gonna-”

“EGK’tschIEW! Fuck!”

“-gonna end the stream here. Gotta get this guy home.”

Bye Eddie!!!

See u in Manhattan 😎

Go help Steve!

Eddie clicked the ‘End Stream’ button and slipped his partners phone into his back pocket, getting up and heading over to him.

Steve was doubled over at the tree line, hands on his knees as he sneezed openly towards the ground. His eyes were streaming and there were small strings of mucus dangling from the tip of his nose.

Eddie put a hand on his back to steady him as his breath hitched again, once again spraying towards the earth beneath him.

“HEH’ iKSHh’EW! Hihhh HNG’tch’EW!”

The mess leaking from his nose bounced back towards his face as he sniffed soupily, coughing.

Eddie had pulled the bandana out of his pocket and bent down, pinching it around Steve’s nose.

“Hey baby, blow for me.”

“NG’tchUH!”

“That…works too.”

Steve took a shaky breath in and blew his nose gently, Eddie feeling his bandana fill up with the warm mess.

The older man removed it, folding it over and pressing it back against Steve’s nose. “Again?”

Steve was mortified but far too exhausted to care about it right now. He took another breath, blowing again and feeling his sinuses clear more.

“Good boy.” Eddie helped Steve stand up straight.

“I forgot mby allergy pill this mborni’g…” Steve admitted, embarrassed.

“Thought as much. Let’s get you home and rinsed off, Kay?”

Steve nodded. “Thanks Eddie.”

#s/tranger t/hings #e/ddie m/unson #s/teve h/arrington #snzblr #steddiesnz #streamer au #ask box #allergic!steve #allergies #snz kink #snz blog #snzfucker

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beautifulblooms · 2 years ago

Text

Fighting Together to the End- Eddie Munson x Male!Reader - Part 3

Male! Reader, he/him used, so fuck the canon, it broke my heart, MEGA FUCKING SPOILERS FOR PART TWO OF SEASON FOUR, anyways, fluff, angst, this is pretty much a rewrite of season 4 because I need to recover after the traumatizing events of part 2

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

The morning light shone brightly in my eyes and forced me awake, shit how long were we out for? It didn’t feel like all that long, granted time doesn’t feel real when anyones asleep. Sitting up I glanced down at Eddie who was still fast asleep on the forest floor. He’s always so pretty when he sleeps, especially with how his hair fans out and makes it look like it’s floating. I reached a hand down gently to stroke his cheek and jumped a little when one of his came to hold my hand. Even asleep he can’t stop being adorable. Wait, we had a plan for getting a walkie-talkie last night, right, the contraction site.

As much as I would love to admire him sleeping more only he knew where the site was, so I gently shook his shoulder.

“Baby, it’s morning, we gotta get the walkie remember?” He groaned at me and turned over, two can play at that game Munson. Flipping Eddie onto his back I straddled his hips to prevent him from moving again. “That groan was really cute babe, but you’re not getting out of this, wake up little prince.” I gently pressed a few kisses to his lips to help wake him up.

“Well isn’t this a lovely sight to wake up to.” God why did his morning voice have to be so hot.

“Mhm and while I would love to stay like this for a while we have something to steal.” With a couple pops in my joints here and there I stood up and got off Eddie and helped him up.

“How far is this place again? A couple miles south?” Leaning on one of the larger rocks I stretched out my arms.

“Yeah last time I checked, the skull's face was pointing East, so we need to go… this way.” As he began walking I followed quietly behind, still just a bit too tired for all this shit. And surprisingly Eddie hadn’t lost all his marbles and we came across a construction site filled with busy people.

“What’s the game plan now? How are we gonna get one of those walkies off someone?” Squatting down next to Ed’s he was clearly thinking about the best way to snag one.

“Hey, notice how they all leave their walkies outside the porta-potty? I’m thinking, we wait till mostly everyone is really working and not paying attention, snag it off that pile of lumber, and sprint back to skull rock. Thoughts?” Looking over at him the only thought I had was ‘holy shit im dating the worlds best criminal’.

“Alright then, do you want me to grab it? I think I'm a bit quicker.” Nodding his head Eddie looked over at me again.

“Yeah, you grab it and if we need to I’ll be the distraction.” With the plan set we just had to wait for the right moment, fortunately we didn’t need to wait long.

“Hey, I'm gonna take my 15.” One of the workers called to the foreman.

“Didn’t you just take one?” Shrugging his shoulders the worker continued his way to the porta-potty and just like all the others did he left his walkie on the pile of lumber right next to it.

“Alright, wish me luck.” Nervously glancing one last time at Eddie he flashed me a smile with a thumbs up. Carefully sneaking down behind the porta-potty I moved to the side slowly and grabbed the walkie before sprinting right back to the tree line. Signaling to Eddie to also start running we began sprinting back to skull rock.

Once we made it back there was a good couple minutes we took to catch our breaths. Tuning the radio to the proper channel I pressed down on the button to radio anyone.

“Hey is anyone there, we got caught at the lake and we’ve moved spots, we’re at skull rock now. Please for the love of fuck bring food, and a plan.” Letting go I threw the walkie down next to Eddie. “And now we wait.”

Well over an hour later Steve and Dustin popped through the trees and came over to us.

“See Henderson? Told ya so.” Steve being the cocky guy he is pointed at the skull rock shaped rock sitting above me and Eddie.

“That’s not possible, North is this way.” And Dustin just glanced up and down at his compass to the rock to where “north” was.

“So is there food? We kinda didn’t have time to grab everything at the boat house, ya know with a whole basketball team chasing us.” Eddie’s sass was perfectly timed to break Dustin from his trance for just a moment to look for Nancy, Max and Robin who were carrying a couple bags.

Shortly after the other three made it over, Dustin began to explain his theory with the portals.

“Aha! I was right, this is North from the trail!” His outburst caught Steve’s attention.

“Really? Cause according to your compass North is that way.” Harrington then pointed to the direction that was closer to the East than anything else.

“Yes, but no, Lucas! Why would a compass not point to true North.” Being thrown into the spotlight Lucas panicked for a second before responding.

“There’s a stronger magnetic field around?” Dustin was happy someone remembered something.

“Yes! And we know the gates generate a very strong magnetic field, meaning, somewhere that way, is a gate.” A few others looked confused.

“But we’re nowhere near Hawkins lab.” Nancy chimed in.

“No that way is Lovers Lake, we sprinted up that way.” Trying to figure out what Dustin was getting at I explained our escape from last night.

“Well, think about it, whenever the demogorgon attacked it left a gate, the same with the mind flayer, what if Vecna also leaves gates where he takes victims?” And finally Henderson was making some sense.

“Patrick got Vecna’d there last night, if Dustin’s right, there’s a gate in Lover’s Lake.” Eddie finally began to piece it all together.

“Wait, do you know when he got killed?” Nancy asked Ed’s.

“Yep, I fell in last night and the Walkie bugged out, but so did my watch, here.” Taking off his watch, Eddie threw it over to Nancy.

“9:27, the same time our flashlights blew up. So that surge of energy that trashed all the lights was Vecna attacking Patrick.” Drawing conclusions to connect everything Nancy threw Ed’s watch back to him.

“So to Lover’s Lake it is.”

#eddie munson x male reader #eddie x male reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #male reader #male reader fanfic

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osakunt · 3 years ago

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Your blog is fuc***g awesome!! I was wondering, can you write something with msby boys and a s/o who is going to uni and has a lot of exams? Like yesterday me and my friends studied all night and we have breakfast with readbull, coffee and cereal to have the energy to study again and I want to see them with a s/o doing something similar. Thank you!

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➬ 𝗠𝗦𝗕𝗬 𝟰 𝘅 𝗴𝗻!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

➬ 𝗺-𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 😳😳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼. 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 ‼️‼️

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𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗦𝗔 kissed you before going to bed and told you to come to bed when finishing. He was knocked out - in sleepy land until he rolled over in the early hours of the morning to bring you closer to him but you weren’t there. “They can’t be” he whispers. Peeking an eye open - already knowing where you were. “Mind telling me why you’re still here and at four in the morning……with energy drinks (?) love, what the fuck ?” “Morning Omi. How’d you sleep ?” You look over your shoulder to see him frown at you.

“Don’t morning, me. Tell me that you didn’t stay up all night” he sits next to you pushing your notebook to a clear space in the coffee table. “Then I won’t tell you” you shrug giggling making him groan. “Did you at least take a break to eat ?” “No. I said I was going to do that but I completely forgot” hearing your answer ,he leaves for the kitchen and comes back with two bowls,cereal and milk. “Here this’ll keep you steady for now” he hands you your bowl nagging you to eat before you got sick. When you were done you set the bowl down and go back to picking up your notebook, however Kiyoomi had other plans.

“NOPE. You’re comin’ with me” he throws you over his shoulder, making his way to the room. “I have my day off today so we’re sleeping” he says before his head hits the pillow and arms circling around you. It didn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep. After eight hours of cramming things into your brain, there was nothing else to expect. ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

BOKUTO thought you’d go to sleep a few minutes after he went to bed but he had been in bed for an hour now, still awake - waiting for you to come join him to cuddle to sleep. Grabbing his phone from the night stand, he sees that it’s exactly eleven on the dot. Getting out of bed and going to where you were at the desk in the next room, he sees you sipping on coffee - reading some notes you had taken hours before. “Hey baby ? You coming to bed ?” He asks poking his head and half his body into the room

“I can’t Kou. I need to finish up this third part” putting your mug down, you look up to see him pout. “How many parts are left ?” “Two, baby”. Now, Bokuto wasn’t all too happy with you staying up - after all he only went to college for two years before getting drafted for the MSBY. He understood that you working for your career was a priority but at the moment his priority was having you in bed and in his arms, ear pressed against your chest to hear your heart beat. “Guess I’ll just stay with you” he pulls up a rolling chair settling down in it; smiling at you.

“Kou, this will take me all night.”

“I know. I’ll spend it here with you. Good thing it’s off season so I can stay up till anytime”

“That’ll mess up your sleep schedule though”

“No it won’t” and he was right. It wouldn’t mess up anything for him. It was now three in the morning and he was on your lap knocked. You even used his chest as a table for your books when you ran out of space on the desk.

He wakes up when the sound of a RedBull can opens and some of the sprit falls on his cheek. Blinking the sleep away - he stirs up from your lap, taking in the circles under your eyes. “Are you done yet ?” “No. I need to read through this article” you pull out a sheet with a pencil. “Then let’s popcorn read so you can finish this up. This studying thing annoys me. It takes you away from me” he grabs your paper and starts reading the first paragraph to help you finish faster. ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Atsumu’s plane landed around five and got home at six from an away game the team had. He wasn’t excepting to see you eating a bowl of cereal with your laptop propped up on your legs with a blanket over your head. “Ya waited fer me ta get home ?! Awe, angel yer so sweet ♡” “Shhh Tsumu !!! I need to hear this” you shut him up increasing the volume of your computer.

“Welcome home babe - thanks,baby! It’s great to be back - I missed ya- I missed ya too, angel” Atsumu goes back and forth with himself creating a welcome home scenario - playing both your part and his.

Making it over to the floor where you were set up, he squints his eyes seeing numbers and letters appearing on the computer screen. Face dropping even more, he sets down his duffle bag then takes your laptop away from you. “Heyy!!” “Let me see your face” he squished your cheeks with his hand to get you to stop moving.

“Ya didn’t”

“I did. And will continue” you finish up your bowl of cereal tossing it aside to grab your laptop from his hands but he yanks it away.

“How long ya’ve been at it ?”

“Since two days ago”

Hearing you say two days ago blew him away. This meant you probably hadn’t eaten anything nor taken a break. Setting down the laptop - he brings you up to the couch snuggling into you. Playing with your hair and making small talk, he feels your exhaustion overpower you - slowly carrying you into a deep slumber. A slumber that he also needed and took the chance while you were in his arms. ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Hinata was up studying with you. While you studied for your career, he studied his plays and next moves to make in the next game the team had. “I can jump a little higher” he pauses the video he was watching to write down a solution for his problem. Glancing over to you, he sees you handing him a glass bottle of refrigerated Starbucks. “Thanks” he smiles at you opening up the drink and looking at you again. “What time is it ?” His eyes show how bad he needed sleep, however he refused to go to bed unless he found ways to improve his plays.

“It’s ten. I think we should go to sleep. I’m pretty much finished” you suggest

“Fifteen more minutes. That way we can both finish and sleep the whole day” he says yawning.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you look at him and turn off the tv. “No. You were literally just falling asleep just now.”

“Y/n- but pleaseee” he gives you puppy eyes. Ones that you ignore packing up your things in their respective place. Unlike the other MSBY 3, Hinata will be the one you have to force to go to sleep because of how invested he is in finding ways to palm that ball. Though the others are also invested, Hinata is the one who has a hard time because of the excitement.

“No. Sweetheart it’s about to be noon. Let’s try to at least sleep” you grab his hand - dragging him to the shared room. “Maybe I can do that trick Atsumu did with Osamu when we were in high school. When they changed positions”

“Shut up. Sleep” you kiss his forehead resting your head on your pillow - quickly falling asleep.

“Baby ?….y/n …..oh they fell asleep” Hinata rubs his eyes, feeling the warmth of the bed - maybe a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

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#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #hinata x reader #hinata haikyuu #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x y/n

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disasterofastory · 4 years ago

Text

Spring (Ivar x Reader)

Spring modern!Ivar x Reader Warnings: smut

We decided to deep-clean and declutter our entire apartment, can’t be too embarrassing what we find, right? - from THIS prompt list

Spring is your favorite season. The weather gets better, you can change your winter clothes, and you can buy fresh flowers to decorate the small flat you live in with your housemate, Ivar. The sun is already up when you go to work and still shines when you go home after a long day. For you, this is the season you can start with a new page and not New Year as for the others. The first thing you do when the spring comes is deep-clean the entire house. You wash down the windows, move the furniture to clean under them and declutter everything you do not need anymore. When you are done, the whole apartment is clean and smells good.

Ivar loves it.

But he hates it if he has to help you.

“Your room is the next,” you tell him, placing your hand on your hip. You look around the kitchen and living room with a satisfied but tired sigh. Everything is in order, and you love the feeling you get from it. You changed the pillowcases, vacuumed the couch and everything you could after you scrubbed down the whole kitchen. The air smells like furniture cleaner with a pine scent in it. “We don’t have to,” he tells you, standing up from the sofa. “I can do it myself.” “Don’t be silly. I can help,” you smile. “It will be faster.” “Y/N! Seriously, I don’t need your help.” “I know you don’t need it, but I’m glad to help,” you answer stubbornly, moving into his room. He follows you with an annoyed sigh. His dark hair is tied in a bun, and his green shirt and sweatpants are dusty from cleaning. You open the window to let in some fresh air and go to his wardrobe while he sits down on his bed. “Y/N…” Ivar starts again, but you don’t let him argue anymore. “Sort out the clothes you need,” you tell him, and he has no other choice but obey.

Living with Ivar is much easier than a few years ago. When you moved in, he was rude and avoided you. You had to be stubborn and shameless to accept you as his friend. Since then, you met his family, you even celebrated a few holidays with him, and you were there for him when he broke up with Freydis. You know his moodiness and his sometimes spiteful nature, and you learned to handle it.

“I can’t believe it. It’s Sunday, and I have to clean,” he grunts, moving to his bookshelf to continue the work. “You can rest the whole week next week. We don’t work, remember?” You can smell his cologne, putting down the used sheets to wash it later. “We should turn the mattress over,” you tell him, leaning down to grab it. “Y/N! Wait! No!” He yells, but it’s too late. At first, you don’t even know why he is so upset about it and what do you hold in your hands. Then you look at it better. It’s lacy and red. And it’s yours. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t utter a word out. “Get out!” Ivar shouts at you. His face is red from anger and embarrassment. “Leave!”

You run out of his room with your panties between your hands. His door bangs loudly behind you, and you jump from the noise. You move back to your room, closing the door before you sit down on the bed. Your head is full of thoughts. You are afraid to think why it was in his room, but at the same time, it makes you… excited. With a heavy sigh, you fall back on your pillows, staring up to the ceiling.

The next week is hard. Ivar avoids you, and you avoid him too. The only way you know he is home because you hear his crutches outside your room. You imagine a million and one conversations with him, but you are not brave enough to make the first move. You know he is angry, embarrassed, and humiliated, but you are those things too! What if the only way to solve this to move out? Is your friendship over? Does he never want to talk with you again? It’s ridiculous that you are the one who feels bad when he is the pervert.

But…

You are a pervert too.

You imagined him laying on his bed with your panties in his hands, while with his other hand he… Yeah, you are in big trouble.

You spend your days in your room, till one morning you have enough of this. If it depends on Ivar, you two will never talk again. Still, in your pajamas with newfound bravery, you march over to his room without knocking. He jumps on his bed when you burst into the room and stare at him angrily. “Now what?” You ask him. “How long do you play this nonsense? You want me to move out?”

You are furious, but not because of the panties. And you feel like an idiot because of it. You are furious because you can lose Ivar. Yes, it's hard to deal with Ivar sometimes. He can be moody and angry for nothing, but at the same time, he can be attentive if he wants to. He always lets you watch your favorite series even if he wants to watch something else. He makes you coffee and breakfast if he knows you have to wake up early. Your whole relationship is about taking care of each other, even if it's hard at times.

“Y/N,” he says, you know he is suffering under your waiting gaze. “I don’t know what you are waiting for from me. I don’t know how I could make this right.” “An explanation, for example.” “I didn’t plan it,” he starts. “I helped you clean your room the other day, and before I knew it, I… stole your panties. I didn’t do anything with it, I promise! I wanted to bring it back, but you walked up and down in the house the whole day, and I couldn’t.” “But why?” You ask him, calmer this time. You sit down on his bed next to him. He still looks at you like a deer in the headlights. His hair is messy, and his face is flushed. “I…” he starts, licking his dry lips. “I love you, okay? I just didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I ruined it anyway, didn’t I?” “No,” you answer. “It was worst that I had to avoid you all week than… the panties.” “Please, tell me how I could make it right, and I will do it,” he begs you, placing his hand on yours, squeezing it. He can’t even look into your eyes as you stare at him, thinking.

He loves you…

“I tell you something,” you decide. “But you have to promise me whatever happens, you won’t get angry, and you won’t avoid me. You have to learn to communicate with me even if it’s hard or embarrassing.” “I promise,” he nods repeatedly. You lick your lips, before with a determined sigh, you lean closer to his ear. You support yourself on his bare chest, so you feel his heartbeat speeds up at your touch. “I imagined you several times this week,” you confess. Your voice is almost a whisper. “What?” He asks you, confused but intrigued. You feel powerful with the knowledge he loves you, and you want to enjoy this opportunity because you know Ivar. He can’t be long without control. “I imagined you, laying on this bed,” you start. “And jerking off with my panties around your cock.” You see his Adam’s apple jumping as he gulps with a quiet squeak. You almost laugh at his expression. He really looks like a deer in the headlight with his blue eyes and open mouth. “What?” He repeats it breathlessly. “Don’t say you didn’t imagine it,” you say, still smiling. “Don’t say you didn’t want to play with it while you touch yourself. You didn’t imagine me wearing it with the matching bra while I moan your name?” “Don’t play with me,” he begs. He still can’t believe it's really happening. The woman he loves is almost on top of him, telling him things to get him aroused.

He loves you for a long time now. At first, it started as a crush while he was with Freydis. He found your perfume sweet, and he always liked your laugh. His feelings grew and grew till he couldn't deny them anymore. He broke up with Freydis, but he never had enough bravery to confess his love for you. And he definitely never imagined it like this.

“I don’t,” you promise him more seriously, caressing his blushed cheek. “I can’t think of anyone else but you, since the… you know, panties-incident.” “Oh, Gods!” He closes his eyes, cringing. “Can you not tell it like this again?” “Oh, come on!” You laugh. “I want to see it.” “See what?” He asks you. “Touching yourself with my panties around you,” you confess, biting your lip. Ivar stares into your eyes for a few seconds, thinking you joke with him, but when he sees you are serious, he gulps and nods. “Give me what you wear,” he orders you, and you almost squeal from happiness. You already feel damp between your legs as you stand up to take off your clothes. You try to lengthen the process and give him a show as you take off your pajamas and finally your panties. You see his hand shaking as he reaches out for it, and you let him take it. You climb above his knees carefully. Your legs spread a little, enough for him to see your wetness while you watch him pushing down his grey pants to free himself.

His whole body shakes from excitement. You are his dream girl, and now you are here above him, naked and waiting.

He places your black laced panties around his erection, and you moan just from the sight. His breath gets heavier and heavier as he moves his hand up and down on his shaft. His muscles tense on his stomach and his arms flex from his movements. “Play with yourself,” he says huskily. His blue eyes stare at your naked form. You reach down between your legs and give him a show, circling your waist as your fingers move. With your other hand, you start to massage one of your breasts, and the only reason you don’t close your eyes from the pleasure because you can’t look away from Ivar’s member. He is hard and ready. Your panties move up and down under his touch. After a few minutes like this, you lean down to his cock and start to jerk him off yourself before you take him in your mouth. He is warm, and your eyes almost roll back to your head at the feeling. Your ears ring from his hoarse moans, and you speed up your pace to hear it again. He grabs your hair, your scalp burns as he pushes you down on him more till he hits your throat. “Gods, Y/N!” He shouts in ecstasy. You look up at him under your eyelashes. “Come here,” he orders. You move up to him, paying attention to his legs. One of his arms goes around your back to pull you closer to him while the other one grabs your breast to his mouth. He licks and bites your nipple to his heart content and moves his hand down to your pussy. You massage his scalp as you try to stay in place, but you can’t stay like this any longer, and he knows it. “Ride me,” he says, letting you go. You move above his manhood and slowly sink down on him. You both moan at the feeling, and for a few minutes, neither of you move. He enjoys your warm tightness while you try to memorize the fullness you feel in yourself. “You are beautiful,” he sighs, staring at you. His foggy eyes jump from your eyes to your moaning mouth and down on your whole body, and he stops on your joined parts.

He knows he can never forget this sight and feeling. You look beautiful above him and around him. Your hair is disheveled, and your eyes shine with pleasure. Your thighs flex as you move, and your breasts jump up and down with your rhythm. He feels your weight on his chest as you lean on him. His skin is red in the wake of your nails.

“I love you,” he says between two grunts, grabbing your hips. “I love you too,” you moan, leaning more on him to kiss his lips for the first time. The kiss is messy as you still move up and down on him but enough for him to cum. You move back up to your original position, reaching down between your legs to speed up your pleasure. Your whole body is shaking and tingling as you lay down next to Ivar with his help. “You meant it?” He asks you softly, cuddling you to his body while you caress his chest after a few minutes. “That you love me?” “Yes,” you smile at him. “I really love you.” “I love you too.”

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar smut #vikings smut #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless smut

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

Of Quartz I Will

Amethyst You So Much✨ Part 2: Of Quartz I Will

Summary: after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Warnings: fluff, gun violence, shooting tw, Reid's season 5 knee injury, hurt/comfort, emotional smut, body massage, hand jobs, riding, penetrative sex.

word count: 6K

Spencer notices her as she walks in, through the briefing room window, she’s wearing his purple shirt. He wanted to wear that for work today but couldn’t find it anywhere, now he knows why.

“Excuse me,” he says to his group of teammates as they contribute reading case files.

“Hey,” Spencer grabs her attention from the railing beside the briefing room. “I’ve been looking for that shirt everywhere.”

“It’s mine now,” she smiles, setting her things down at her desk for the night. “I’ll buy you a new purple dress shirt.”

“Buy yourself one, I like that one,” he whines.

“Finders keepers, doctor Reid. Either stop leaving your shit on my bedroom floor or move in already.”

Everyone hears it. All eyes are on them as they bicker in the middle of the bullpen, including the team of profilers just beyond the window.

“Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She climbs the stairs quickly, giving him a good morning hug even though it was 9pm. “I love you, that’s why I’m wearing your shirt.”

He smiles against her shoulder as he holds her, “I love you, more so in my shirt.”

When he sits back down at his chair at the round table, everyone is waiting with a raised brow. They want details, they want his opinion, they want to hear him stutter and see him blush like he used to. But he doesn’t.

“Yes, I will be moving in with her. We have people to save,” Spencer reminded them. Avoiding eye contact and flipping through the files.

Derek tugs on his amethyst bracelet, he hasn’t taken it off since he got it, almost 2 years ago. “Are you ever going to get her any other jewellery?”

“When she goes home I’ll show you,” he whispers, still avoiding eye contact as they all gasp. “Keep it cool or I will kill you.”

He keeps an eye on her at her desk, smiling when she looks up to see him. She blows him a kiss and waves softly a few times, but other than that, they don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

The next time She sees him, he’s in her bed sound asleep as she’s coming home from work. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes his hair away from his face to wake him up gently, he blinks into the morning sunlight to see her.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

She’s in his pink shirt today. She liked to keep something of his close on bad cases that take him out of town. In this case, out of the country. He was in Canada for a few days, the case was horrific and she had to deal with all the office work in Penelope’s absence.

“Amethyst,” she whispers, it was part of their secret code.

Spencer, being a cunning linguist, he loved anagrams.

They had Amethyst for I miss you, Quartz for of course, and Olive for I love you. It was easier to keep the PDA to a minimum at work, not wanting to sit in a seminar like Derek and Penny about sexual misconduct and hostile work environments.

“Olive,” Spencer replies, pulling her down into the bed so she can cuddle in.

��We can’t stay, there’s another case. JJ told me to bring you in on my way home,” she explains softly. “They need you to go to ER Doctor Barton’s house, in McLean, he got a note saying someone was going to kill his son. So far they’ve also connected him to a few surrogate kills of Hispanic men, they need the speed reader to go through all his recent surgeries.”

He sighs, holding her tightly and snuggling in against her back, “no.”

She laughs, “Spencer, you can read really fast and the faster you read the faster you can come home to me.”

“Fine,” she has perfect logic, he always tells her that. “Are you driving me to the guy's house?”

“Yep, so we can stop for coffee and talk in the car, I really did miss you a lot,” she struggles out of his grasp to turn and face him, opting to hold his face in her hands as she looks at him. He’s exhausted, just like her.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I was gone so long,” his voice is barely a whisper, “We should take a day off together soon.”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider, completely in love with him. “I’d really like that, maybe we can look at apartments?”

“Apartments?” He repeats the word with a grin, raising his eyebrow softly. “I thought you liked it here?”

“It’s too small, I want to get a cat, if you’re bringing your closet here we’re going to need a bigger one,” she ranted. “And actually, I was thinking if you’re on the same page as me and this is a long-term thing for you too, what if we just got a bigger place and got a mortgage and start a little life outside the FBI, together?”

He’s so in love with her, “get my bag?” Is all he can say.

“What?” She’s so confused, shaking her head softly as she comprehends it.

“On the floor there, grab my bag, please there’s something for you in there,” he points behind her, trapped under her and the blanker so it’s not like he could get it himself.

She gets up, placing the bag on the bed for him as she watches him dig through it for a little box. “Arminius helped me pick this out.”

He had become best friends with the owner of the rock shop, she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had gotten something else from there for him. It made her giggle with excitement, bouncing softly as Spencer sat up and moved his bag out of the way.

But then he got out of bed, he’s in a pair of purple boxers and his hair is a mess and he’s so nervous and she has no idea why until he gets down on one knee.

“I was waiting to do this.”

“Holy shit.”

He nods with a shaky laugh, “yeah, I’m in it long term if you are?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drive you to work now?” She laughs, unable to stop smiling as the two of them stare hopelessly at each other. She hasn’t even looked at the ring yet, too occupied with the wonderfully happy look on his face.

“Quartz,” is all she can say, flabbergasted as she keeps laughing with a shocked smile.

He takes it from the box and she watches as he slides the most beautiful purple Amethyst ring over her ring finger and then her hands are back on his cheeks. Pulling him into a kiss, she can’t seem to hold him close enough as she breathes in. Holding her breath as she keeps him there.

He pulls away with a laugh, “when are we supposed to be there?”

“Now.”

“Damn,” they’re all giggles.

And it doesn’t stop, she takes off Spencer’s shirt and he puts it on instead, matching it with a vest and a tie while she makes him a coffee and can’t stop smiling as she glances at the ring.

It really only made sense for their engagement to happen in the same place she fell in love with him.

Sure, she liked him a lot when he was getting her rocks and she really wanted to get to know him more after his last note, but it was the bracelet that made her fall in love. He went out of his way to make her smile on what felt like the worst day of her life, and she knew she wanted forever with him from then on out. Now she was going to get it, she was going to be Agent Y/N Reid, and her ring was absolutely perfect.

He catches her taking photos of it in the sunshine when he comes out of the bedroom. She still can’t stop smiling, it’s just so perfect and she’s just so in love with him.

They get muffins from the bakery under her apartment before getting in her car, “where is it?” Spencer asks, playing the role of GPS whenever they drove together.

“120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia,” she members it clearly.

“Take a right,” Spencer smiles, and she’s off.

She drives with one hand, looking at her ring almost more than the road as Spencer held her other one. She pulled up to the Doctor’s house and he didn’t want to leave. Sighing, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“I will see you when you get home, I’m going to call out after this case is done and you get mandatory 24 hours off for back-to-back cases,” she said, knowing protocol almost better than him. “Go to work.”

“Fine,” he frowns again, getting out of the car and walking around to her door. She rolls the window down and tilts her chin up, leaning out for the kiss he’s waiting to give her.

“Let me know when you’re done, I can come and pick you back up,” she whispers against his lips between kisses.

One last smooch and he pulls away, backing up so he isn’t tempted to stay any longer, “olive.”

“Olive,” she replies with a smile, waving slightly before he disappears behind the door.

She releases a long sigh, melting into the chair as she lets the butterflies swarm around a bit in her stomach, it felt wonderful.

She went home, napped from 10 till 2 and then sat in bed to stare at her beautiful ring for a little while. She couldn’t believe he proposed just like that. All she asked was if he wanted to get a mortgage on a house and she guesses he heard "spend the rest of your life with me."

Sometimes, when Spencer was on a case in Virginia and too busy to keep her updated, she would turn on the police radio and listen to what was going on around in the area. It was good to keep her mind preoccupied and to remind herself that he was safe.

At least that’s what it used to do.

“Shots fired at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia, 10-999, 11-41, all units in the area are requested.”

“10-999, officer down, 11-41, send ambulances,” she whispers to herself, remembering all the dispatch lingo from the office.

She doesn’t have time to panic, she unlocks her safe and grabs her gun, loading it and then she’s out the door, in her car and pulling up behind the sheriff's car as she’s running out.

She tosses her badge up to show the cops as she tries to run onto the scene, “I’m an FBI agent on his team, let me through!”

She slides her knees along the grass, surely ruining her jeans as she dives for him. She places a hand on his bloody knee and looks everywhere else, “are you okay? Are you good? Holy shit, Spence?”

Her breathing is so heavy, she clutches her chest with her left hand and tries to calm down as he looks up at her and they breathe in and out a few times without breaking eye contact. He’s completely fine, there’s just a bullet in his knee, he assures her.

“I’m fine,” he laughs lightly, wincing at the pain as he leans forward to kiss her gently.

She’s there only 2 minutes before Derek, JJ and Rossi are pulling up on the scene. Everyone huddled around them on the grass as the EMTs bandaged his knee up before taking him to the ambulance.

“You need to call Emily,” Spencer speaks over everyone, “something happened to Hotch, I’m fine here with Y/N, just go see him.”

He was always going to be fine with her, that was for sure. She never left his side, except when they took him in for surgery and forced her back into the waiting room. But as soon as he was okay again, his hand was in hers.

—

He was given a month off after his knee surgery, but he still ended up in the office most nights. Becoming more of a night owl than usual as he accompanied his fiancé to her desk and sat beside her as she did her work. It was really nice to spend time with her and not have to do anything.

Of course, he filled his time by going over other case files, things they weren’t able to get to as a team and things that didn’t fit the criteria of the BAU. He made phone calls and sent emails, helping small-town cops make simple connections and doing more good that way.

He sat at her desk, his leg resting over her lap as she made a few phone calls. Handing the background of the cases, filing off invoices and approvals. Dispatching units and requesting files and overrides from other departments. She was amazing.

She hangs up the phone, finally, after 45 minutes of rolling her eyes and sighing as she was transferred from office to office all around America. She places her hand on his leg and absentmindedly runs her hand along his shin, staring off at the desk, silently.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “do you think you’re healed enough to start looking at places?”

He nods back, “actually, I already found one. Hold on,” he slides his leg off her lap and stands with his crutches, hobbling over to his desk where he looks through his files for a new folder.

When he comes back to her, he places the folder in her hands, “forever homes,” is listed on the tag and he sees her heart melt in her eyes. She opens the folder as he sits down, there are about 15 pages of house and apartment listings printed off.

“When did you do all this?” She whispered, shocked and not wanting to cry at work.

“Before I got shot, I was on the phone with Penelope and I asked her to help me find some, she printed off like 50 and I selected the good ones, but there’s more if you don’t like an-“

“Babe,” she cut the rant short, “I’m sure I’ll love any of them, as long as they come with you.”

He pulls a specific sheet from the pile, “this one is my favourite.”

She can see why, it’s a large, green exterior, Victorian home. There’s a turret and a porch, large windows with a bench seat in the kitchen. A garage, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, a study and a pretty nice backyard.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but Derek said he’s willing to help teach me how to fix some stuff,” Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly. He really wanted this on.

“Let’s get a Realtor and set up a walk-through,” she agreed, “and we should bring Derek because he’ll know more than most inspectors anyway. I don’t want to get a place with a cracked foundation or a faulty water heater.”

He smiled again, “remember last week when I had that extra appointment?”

She tilted her head, “no, there is no way you’ve already been there to check it out without me.”

“And I put an offer in, but I was waiting for your approval,” he adds, nervous for her to hate it.

“With what money? I thought we were doing this together?” He’s not sure why she’s upset, normally she loves his surprises.

“When I sold my moms house, I invested the money and it’s been gaining interest for years now,” his voice is soft, “I got through college with scholarships and if I was ever down on money I just had to go to one casino and I always leave with two grand, minimum, I promise, I’m really in this for the long run. I know what I'm doing.”

She smiles, picking up the listing and calling the agency. “Hi this is Y/N Y/L/N calling, my fiancé, Doctor Spencer Reid, recently put an offer in on the listing for 247 Chestnut Drive, I’d love to come and see it soon and take some measurements and things. If you could call me back…”

Spencer is so in love with her it hurts. He wants to scream right then and there, like a kettle on a hot stove for too long, he’s bursting at the seams. She hangs up the phone with the best smile he’s ever seen, “I’m going home early, cause I’m sick, care to join me?”

She stands then, putting her hand out for him so he could stand with her help. “Quartz,” he replies, taking her hand and stands, she gathers their things and she clocks out. No one really cared about all her sick days, she did her job well and they wanted the good doctor to be taken care of.

When he finally gets to show her the inside of the house, she is so in love with it. The hardwood is all original, same with the railings, shelves, banisters and countertops. They're all rustic and beautiful, she can’t help but run her finger over everything as she looks around with an open mouth. X

The kitchen cabinets are green, there is a beautiful colourful wallpaper as a backsplash… and it’s completely empty. It was a remodel, some house flippers did it up and didn’t want to stay. It was made more modern, updated appliances and every safety protocol met. It was perfect.

She turned to him with a smile after only 5 minutes of looking, “this is it.”

“Good,” the women showing them around said, “because your offer was approved, with your say so I can get everything started with escrow.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N cheered, jumping a bit and showing off while Spencer just leaned on his crutch. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek a few times.

“You can start that paperwork,” Spencer smiled, holding her back with his face in the crook of her neck.

—

The hardest part of moving is transporting all of Spencer’s books from one home to another. It's at least 30 boxes of books and Derek will be faxing his chiropractor bill to Spencer within the week.

His office here was huge, floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and green walls, full of all his books and belongings now. It was his own space in the house he shared with his future wife.

It felt crazy to him.

She used to just be the cute girl in the office, he can remember the exact moment he laid eyes on her. She was walking around aimlessly with some files in her hands when he turned around at his desk. She looked lost, overwhelmed and like she was about to have a breakdown.

She looked at him with the same fear he felt on his first day, he took the file from her and knew exactly where it was meant to go. She followed behind him, quiet as a mouse as he placed it in a folder by the wall under a sign that said "Anderson."

He turned with a press-lipped smile and a nod and then they went their separate ways. Silent conversations became their thing, the only time he really heard her voice was when she called him in in the middle of the night or when he heard her on the phone.

Other than that; she smiled when they passed each other, she’d tap her watch when he needed to be doing something Hotch asked for and was preoccupied with something else, she even knew exactly what he was looking for by just observing his chaos. Always able to pull a sheet of paper from the bottom of the stack with ease, and always silently, until that one day she said sorry to him after slamming the phone.

Now he knows that she talks in her sleep, she likes to go over her plans out loud in the shower every morning, and she sings all day long. Be it little tunes, hums, random tongue clicks or whistling, she’s always making noise. His favourite, however, was when sometimes she’d remember something she was trying to remember during a conversation they had, 4 days prior, and she’d scream it out like he knows what she’s thinking every second of every day.

He was in love with her voice, he never wanted to stop hearing it.

He was in love with her face, he never wanted to stop seeing it.

He was in love with her body, he never wanted to stop touching it.

He was in love with her mind, he never wanted to stop exploring it.

All those thoughts rushing to his brain and rushing a new form of butterflies for him. Like anxiety, but happier. Like he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. It was anticipation rather than fear.

She really was it for him, and as he unboxed his life into the house they were about to share for the upcoming future, it all became very real. This was how the rest of his forever was going to look with her. All their memories from here on out were going to take place in this house, in these rooms.

When he picked this house, it was just a fun idea, and now he looks at the hardwood floors and thinks about how wet baby feet are going to sound during bath time. He wonders how many times the creaky steps are going to let him know she’s coming up to bed, he wonders what screaming matches and fights and love-making will happen beyond the bedroom door across from his study.

He wonders if she’s going to love him as long as he wants to love her.

He opens his study door then, “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” She calls up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Can you come up here?”

She marches up the stairs, still not used to the creaky staircase or the length of stairs she had to climb, soon enough, she’s on the second floor and walking into his study, “what’s up?”

He doesn’t know how to ask, he doesn’t even really know what he wants actually. He just missed her, and she was only just downstairs.

“Can I have a hug?”

It comes out more pathetic than he predicted, cringing at the embarrassment as he shrunk into the couch.

“Quartz,” her voice is soft as she approaches him.

Sitting on the brown leather couch that was once in his apartment, she wraps her arms around him and he holds her back softly.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he just wants to hold her for a while. Eventually, they end up laying down with her on his chest, still holding each other as silent as they were in the beginning.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers against her hair.

She snuggles in more, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder softly, “I love you, too, are you okay?”

He nods softly, “I was just thinking about everything and I wanted to hold you.”

She swoons, “do you remember the first night we cuddled like this?”

He nods again, brushing his chin against her head each time, “it all feels like history repeating like it’s supposed to be this way for us.”

“I like to think so,” she agreed. “I actually think you’re my twin flame.”

He hums, thinking about it, “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“So soulmates are kind of like mirror souls, they are exactly everything that the other needs and they fill the missing parts for each other." She explains softly and he can already tell where her rant is going.

"I don’t think that’s us because we are too similar; sometimes we butt heads and don’t see eye-to-eye, and you drive me crazy a lot of the time because we have the same anxiety and daddy issues, but it’s also because you do things I think about doing and then I can’t do them because they're done already and they’re my calm down things so then I have nothing to calm down with, like yesterday-“

“Babe,” he whispers, “I know, we finish each other’s sandwiches, that’s what your niece said when she saw us together.”

It makes her smile and he can feel her cheekbone against his chest, “twin flames are what happens when one soul is ripped in half and sent to two bodies. They’re capable of surviving separately, as long as they have the right kindling, but they burn brighter together.”

“People sometimes think fire is living because it consumes and uses energy, requires oxygen, and moves through the environment,” Spencer says softly, “have you ever seen something catch fire on both ends?”

“Yeah, a few times, why?”

“It’s never about burning the item entirely, both fires are only concerned with connecting to each other for mass destruction. They always burn in the strangest patterns, but they always connect first before devouring the victim.”

She sits up to look at him, “are you saying I devoured you?”

“That would be de-flowered,” he teases, “but no, I’m saying it makes sense. We really have been burning through everything to find each other.”

“I cannot believe you just said I de-flowered you before the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said,” she laughs, “and it was a mutual de-flowering, might I remind you.”

“I will never forget,” he coos, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers.

She pushes him back against the couch, it’s been forever since they’ve really done anything. With moving, Spencer’s recovery, her working nights and sleeping all day. It hasn’t been rewarding in a long time, it’s just been enjoyable.

“No,” he whispers as she starts to trail kisses down his neck. “I’m not having sex on the couch the first time we do it in the house.”

She laughs against his neck, pushing herself off the couch and extending a hand to him, “did the doctor even say you can yet?”

“I can’t do all the work, but I can give a second opinion?” He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as she hauled him to his feet.

“Let me heal you,” she whispers, and he knows exactly what she means.

She lays him down on their bed, on top of the covers with no clothes on as she gathers her things. She closes the blinds, turns on her amber lamp, and lights her candles. But his favourite thing that she adds is the sound therapy… helping the water in his body vibrate at the right frequency to calm him completely. She’s going all out for this one.

Much like the first time.

She’s naked too, both of them completely unfazed by each other’s naked form by now. She sits between his legs with all her chakra stones in her hands and she sets them down on his stomach before arranging them in order where they’re supposed to help on his body.

The Amethyst is just above his head for his crown chakra, touching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as she places a Lapis Lazuli on his third eye, in the centre of his forehead. An Aquamarine on his throat. Rose Quartz on his heart, Tiger’s Eye on his solar plexus, Pyrite on his belly button and finally, Fire Agate at his core.

He always felt so totally relaxed like this, even the first time she ever laid him down like this. He was so calm, he knew he was in good hands and seeing her bless the room made him feel even better.

“Only good may enter here,” the words she repeats every full moon when she opens the windows and blessed the whole house. Keeping them safe, happy, healthy and loved.

She kissed the scar on his knee, causing him to open his one eye to see her. She was laying between his legs now, head resting on his hip as she lightly ran her fingers over his knee, ticking the skin where he finally had feeling again. It took forever for the numbness to go away, even longer for the pain. But she was so patient with him the whole time, taking the best care of him.

She doesn’t mind that he’s hard, she’s very close to his dick as it rests on his stomach beside the crystal.

She kisses his hip, inching each kiss over until she’s pressing one right to the shaft of his dick and he takes a deep breath. Knowing she’ll stop if he forgets how to do the breathing exercises she showed him. He wasn’t allowed to tense his body, this was about pleasure and there was no rush.

For either of them.

He’s done this for her a few times over the years too, just as slow and sensual as she was being. It was calming, rewarding, they bonded with each other and really felt like one being this way.

He heard a cap open, but he was so used to it by now that it filled him with contentment rather than excitement. He remembers the first time she said she wanted to do this, getting some skin-safe, homemade, vegan massage lube and almost turning inside out with how awkward she was asking to do this for their first time.

She sat on her knees between his legs with a small bounce as she got excited about her favourite part. She sat with the bottle resting between her thighs, warming up while she ran some of it over her hands. She massaged his thighs first, getting all the knots and making sure there was no “Charlie's on any horses”, the first time she said that he almost cried laughing and ruined the mood for a little.

She took the rocks off him then, sitting more on his hips as she drizzled the warm oil on his chest. He let his hands rest on her knees, wanting to feel her skin while she felt his. Her hands felt like magic, running over his chest, arms and shoulders like this was her job. She knew every crook, every cranny, every pressure point and soft tissue on him. His body was just as much her’s now.

It's when she presses her body flat against his that he knows the mood is changing. Her breasts are flat against his chest, her hands are behind his head as she looks down at him, her groin pressed right against him as he aches for contact, grinding up into her slowly as she stares into his eyes.

“Better?” She whispered with a small smile, already feeling how much calmer he was, she just wanted confirmation.

“Much,” he’s just as quiet in his reply. “If I don’t bend that knee, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind doing all the work, baby,” she kisses him quickly, “I know you like it more like this anyway.”

She slithers down his body then, his body slick with oil as she easily glides down and creating the most wonderful amount of friction with him. He groans, tossing his head back against the Amethyst on his scalp.

She sits on his good thigh, avoiding pressure with his bad knee like he was an old man now. She makes contact with the only part she didn’t message, adding more of the massage lube to her hand before lazily jerking him off. He keeps a hand on her thigh, groping and managing her right back as she kept a perfect rhythm.

She occasionally grinds against his thigh, mostly when he moans and groans. Extremely turned on by him having a good time, proud of herself for relaxing him, always complaining that he was too tense, she really knew how to release the pressure.

Just as she gets into it, the calming sounds of rain and high-pitched frequencies come to an end… Rhiannon starts playing and he literally watches her come alive; changing her rhythm to match the beat as she starts to grind against him more, she only added his song to the queue, somehow an hour had passed and her music was resuming.

And when Spencer said she was eclectic, he meant she could go from listening to a rare Canadian band called the Tragically Hip, to Kanye West, Taylor Swift, Evanescence and back to Fleetwood Mac. He had no idea where the mood was about to go.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he tried to power through the pleasure, her hand was so amazing he was bubbling away under his skin. He manages to get his middle finger between his leg and her, massaging her clit as she bucked her hips down on him.

Mutual pleasure in any sense was enough for them, seeing the other being perfectly content after everything they went through; it was euphoric. She leans up then and kisses him desperately, unable to stop stroking him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth as the song changes again, it’s the song from the ending of Dirty Dancing, he knows how much she loves that movie. Her kisses get softer, she’s so gentle as she strokes him just a few more times before throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself onto him in one go. Bottoming out faster than before, both of them making the same moan as they curled forward for each other, mouths clashing as they held onto each other.

Grinding together, Spencer kept a hand on her to help her ride as she was preoccupied with her hands in his hair and kissing his neck as they moved in tandem. It was so good, he was incredibly close but he wanted to hold off as long as possible to feel her finish first.

His ultimate pleasure was knowing she was pleasured, he massaged her clit once more between their bodies and she shuttered, “right there,” her words are small as she kisses under his ear, tugging his hair softly as he moans so she can lick at his neck as she moves her hips up and down, gloriously.

He can’t keep his eyes open, everything is too much and he’s so relaxed; it’s like his body is floating on a cloud as she rides him like they’re actually in heaven. He was really having the time of his life and it made him smile at the end of the whimper he released as she tightened around him suddenly and on purpose.

She moves faster, and so does his wrist as he helps her over the edge first. She’s panting in his ear as she rides him with purpose. She cums with a gasp and then he’s gone, her whole body stuttering as she let out the most relaxed and uncontrollable moan he’s ever heard from her.

His grip on her ass tightens as he holds her hips down, he cums with a gasp and it’s so powerful he passes out.

—

He’s so cute when he sleeps.

She’s got him all cleaned up, everything put away and where it’s supposed to be in their new room. She just lays beside him as she watches him nap, blissed out and relaxed, she doesn’t even care that it’s such a typical guy thing to fall asleep right after.

That was kind of her mission.

He’s been so stressed, he wasn’t going to tell her because he didn’t want his stress to become her stress like it so often did. Feeding off each other like a fire, he really knew how to give a phrase to a feeling. But he was stressed because he was in pain from his knee and no matter how much he lied and said he was fine, she knew he wanted to relieve the pain but he was afraid of even taking a Tylenol.

This is the most relaxed he’s been in months.

She ordered a pizza while he was asleep, it arrived before he woke up too. She sets the pizza box, 2 bottles of pop and a roll of napkins at the end of the bed, gently, before getting back into her spot.

She brushed his hair from his face and kissed the tip of his nose gently, seeing him scrunch his face and swallow before blinking awake. She smiled at him, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“I ordered pizza,” she whispers.

“Olive,” he replies.

“Well yeah,” it makes her giggle but she has to say it, “I got our regular green olives, mushrooms and extra cheese.”

He laughs too, extra happy after both the sex and his nap. “I love you,” he says the full thing this time.

She presses another kiss to his lips before hauling him into a sitting position, “I love you, too.”

It’s the best night of her life so far.

the house

Taglist: @dreatine for inspiring a part 2 <3

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

Text

for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?”

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined.

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his.

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking.

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment.

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace.

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play.

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling.

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around.

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

masterlist

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whoacanada · 4 years ago

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Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight.

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

#bar au #jack zimmermann #NHL!Bitty #zimbits #Zimmermann #retired Jack #zimbits fic #look I wrote a thing #it's only been forever #my fic #my stuff #omgcp #check please

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