#My older brother might have experienced it? He's never said that but I wonder

[stormears]

After getting over the initial coke high of seeing Vash's old hairstyle again, I was just thinking about like. How cool it is. And how cool it WASN'T in the early 00's when Trigun was like a cool new anime.

Most anime oldies in the West saw Trigun on TV in 2003 or 2004. One of the big guns on Toonami, part of the first big push for anime's popularity in the West. And I'm thinking about how it was seriously, no joke fr social suicide to admit that you knew what it was or liked it.

I was a lil kid in elementary school but I was also on the internet lol and saw terrible hate comments towards anime in general at that time and in particular towards spiky or pointing-straight-up haircuts like this or Goku or Hiei or Vash. IT WAS *AS UNCOOL AS FUCKING POSSIBLE* to like anime in the early 00's.

I can remember a couple kids in middle school laughing their fucking asses off seeing a picture of Vash the Stampede on some kid's binder and all but torturing him daily for it. I just looked away like a coward, pretending I didn't understand what they were talking about, praying to God they wouldn't sense the same thing about me. High schoolers at the time surely got treated worse still. (After Pokemon's insane popularity faded, I was terrified af to talk about any anime except with my very best friend, did not get "brave" about it till like 11th grade when its popularity was a little stronger)

To see such joy and thousands of happy opinions about Vash's old hair, his ridiculous cut that was for bottom-of-the-ladder loser outcast kids that nobody sat with at lunch...makes me feel some type of way. Makes me feel a change I somehow didn't expect in the world. Vash isn't just cool for nerds, he's cool for everyone. He was cool all along, of course. Now everyone sees.

I know it's been the case for a handful of years now, but with Vash's old hair returning to worldwide fan applause, with simply no one left who'd call it stupid or cringe, I'm feeling it more strongly tonight. Nerds are COOL now. Fortnite and Minecraft and My Hero Academia are what kids talk about openly on the playground and nerd merchandise and creative efforts are marketable and shiny and desired by all. It's...so...weird!

Pop culture has done a 180 like Vash's fucking hair in this episode lol great segue goodnight everybody.

[glittering-moonlillie]

I Hate You, Be My Girlfriend: Part Four (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Warnings: A suggestive part or two

Word Count: 2789

Summary: Damian begins to realize you might not be as terrible as he once thought

You were moments away from being kissed by Damian Wayne, the man who was sworn to loathing every single inch of your being, all spurred on by the skepticism of his older brother, Tim. Once again, Damian managed to surprise you in ways that would take your breath away. You knew that this was obviously part of his master plan to charm his family into believing you two were together, but you never thought that he would willingly kiss you with as much vigor as he was displaying. 

He was so close that you could taste the hint of the honey chapstick he put on an hour ago.  

“Woah woah woah” Jason shouted. “I have no interest in seeing Damian making out with his little girlfriend right now. I’m trying to eat here.” He glanced at you. “No offense.”

Damian lightly pulled away from you glaring back at his two older brothers, his hand still holding your chin. “That’s hilarious coming from you, Todd. Jane Austen would be so disappointed in you right now.”

Before Jason could retort, Dick had already stepped in to diffuse the situation. “Hey, how about we don’t start fighting before me and Bab’s wedding? That would be awesome, thanks.”

“Well maybe if everyone stopped doubting my relationship there would be no fighting.” Damian grumbled. He adjusted himself so that he was facing forward again, his face flushed and hand returning back to his fork. The immediate loss of his warmth made you realize how cold it actually was. 

Dick let out an enervated sigh. “Calm down, D. You don’t have to prove to us that you’re in love with her. It’s abundantly clear that you two are obsessed with each other, I can tell just by the way you’re looking at her.”

You wondered what the eldest brother meant by that statement, because if anything, Damian seemed to look at you the way he always looked at you, in a way that conveyed the feeling of I only somewhat tolerate you. There was no possible way you could have been misconstruing that the whole time. Right? 

Thankfully, after this exchange there were no more sudden derailments. Once everyone finished with dinner, Barbara had decided that she wanted to play a few rounds of the board game Clue with the whole family. Naturally, you weren’t anywhere close to being the winner of any of those rounds, so you opted mostly to watch everyone else play (and try to sabotage everyone else per Damian’s instructions). Everybody seemed to be playing as if it were a high stakes 4-D chess tournament and what was presumed to be a friendly game turned into a cutthroat, all or nothing battle royal screaming match. 

While Tim and Barbara were vehemently shouting insults at each other, you were dying on the floor, gasping for breath and clutching onto Damian’s forearm as you tried to calm down your laughter. Never in your life had you experienced something like this, something that cried family even when it was so chaotic. You felt like you were at home, even if the people here weren’t yours to begin with. Looking up at Damian’s amused smile and realizing that you had never seen him so blissful before, you made a silent prayer that, no matter what, things would stay like this. 

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

The next day you were awoken to a morning hazed Damian, who was at your bedside with a pillow that was previously on your bed. 

Oh. He hit you with that, didn’t he? 

You really shouldn’t be surprised at this point. 

Luckily Damian had said that you two would not have to sleep in the same bedroom. He didn’t want you disturbing him while he was asleep and frankly, the anxiety you would feel sleeping next to him would leave you up all night. Alfred had given you the room next to your boyfriends; it was easily the most comfortable bed you had slept ever on. 

“Did you really need to slap a pillow in my face?” You complained. “I thought you were supposed to love me.” 

Damian threw the pillow in your face again, his eyes rolling. “Please, I would never stoop so low as to do that. Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for me already.”

“Nope, would never dream of it.” You lied. 

The answer seemed to satisfy him enough. You both went downstairs to have some coffee and greet Alfred and all the siblings again, each one seemingly bouncing with excitement for the trip ahead. You were excited as well, maybe even too excited if Damian’s passive glares were anything to judge by. 

“You’re acting as if you took a serious amount of cocaine, Y/n.” He whispered in your ear, playing it off as if he were kissing your neck. 

You shrugged off the statement with a gleaming smile. You were determined not to let anything kill your mood, even Damian’s snotty attitude. 

After a nice lunch and a few more hours afterward to let everyone finish packing, you were all set for a glorious week in France. The allusive Bruce Wayne had yet to appear, which, although unfortunate, was perfectly fine with you. You weren’t sure if you were ready for a meet-in-greet with his father anytime soon. What shocked you, however, was the fact that you were not heading towards an airport like you originally expected. In hindsight, you should have known that the Wayne’s owned a private jet. 

Normally it would take approximately eight hours to get from Gotham to France, but since this was a private jet, a couple of hours were shaved off from the approximation. Damian was squished together with you, which made sense since they assumed you were “obsessed with each other,” but that did not mean he would miss the opportunity to complain about it.

“Hey, remember our deal. You can’t just be super mean to me for no reason while we are on this trip.” You reminded him after his complaints were a little too much to bear. “Come on, I can’t be that bad to hang out with!”

You nudged his shoulder a little with your own but all he could muster was another grumble. This reaction was to be expected, it was normal for the two of you. He has always hated you and you knew that, so why is it now you feel more hurt about his bleak attitude more than ever? 

“Fine, fine, since you insist.” He waved his hand flippantly. “So I’m assuming you are enjoying yourself?”

The answer was an obvious yes, but you decided to beat around the bush a little. “What makes you say that?”

He furrowed his eyes at you. “You have this stupid smile glued on your face and you willingly had a conversation with my siblings when you first woke up.”

“Not all of us have time to sit around and be mopey all the time.” You laughed.  

Damian grunted, adjusting himself in the seat as if trying to slide more away from you. “It’s not…it’s not that. My point was that I have never seen you so happy before. It was just…weird.” 

When he glanced at you again, his hardened emerald eyes seemed to soften. It was confusing to see Damian’s complete shift in character; one second he was teasing you and the next he was being sincere. You tried to think of the best way to confront the situation, deciding that being honest with him would lead to the best outcome. 

“Well, to answer your question, I am having a wonderful time Damian. Thank you for inviting me…even if it means being your fake girlfriend.” Your hand hovered over his own for a brief moment before he eventually noticed and grasped it. 

“If you want to hold my hand,” He mumbled, “Just take it, don’t suspend it over mine and wait for permission or whatever you were trying to do.”

Too afraid to speak, you began to lightly draw random patterns into the skin of his warm, calloused hand. It was almost double the size of your own, and he held it firmly as if he were afraid to lose it. 

The two of you made small conversation, but for the most part, you two were lost in the unexpected intimacy you two shared. You told him about being able to speak a little bit of French and he replied with the three languages he could speak: Arabic, Mandarin and Japanese. After a while you felt your eyelids drooping, your mind becoming foggy with sleep. As you felt your eyes close, Damian shifted in his seat and pulled you in close so you could rest your head on his broad shoulder. 

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

The jet landed on a platform near a hotel named Des Quinconces, which was easily the fanciest hotel you had ever landed your eyes on. The architecture of the hotel blended in with the other buildings in the surrounding area, blooming magnolias and green brush swirling around like a mystical spell. 

The weather was a bright, sunny warm, which heavily contrasted with Gotham’s constant gloom. Turning to Damian, you noticed how his eyes squinted at the dazzling light. 

“I’m not used to the sun being so visible.” He replied once he noticed your stare. The whole family was led to the front desk, where a nice woman with dusty blonde hair and a deep black modest dress asked Dick for the last name that the reservations were under. Her accent was thick and her English was moderately decent. 

While Damian went off to look for the bathroom, you wandered around looking at some of the decorations in the lobby, briefly wondering if the wedding was going to just be the family or if any friends of the couple were going to show up. If that’s the case, wouldn’t they be staying at the same hotel too? 

“Do you know if any of Barbara or Dick’s friends are going to the wedding? Are they staying at the same hotel as us?” You inquired to Tim, who seemed as exhausted as usual. 

Tim had looked at you, and then to the right before making eye contact once more. “Yeah, definitely. I think some of them should be getting here in a few hours, but I’m not really sure…”

Something seemed to be off about his response as if he were hiding something, but you shrugged it off, figuring that you were reading into things way too much. 

Once Dick had squared everything away with the front lady, a bellhop was already making the rounds and taking people’s luggage. You were handed your very own hotel card with the name of the building written on the front. 

“You and Damian will get your own room, I figured since you guys have been together for so long that it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.” Dick explained. You didn’t fully pay attention to what he meant, too distracted by the interesting painting on the walls, until you were taken to the room 

The room was absolutely stunning, with a simple beige chic and a notable glass pane that gave you a view of Bordeaux in all its glory. There was only one tiny problem about the room though; there was one king sized bed. Dick had chuckled at you freezing outside the doorway, only patting your back and giving a quick “Make sure to use protection!” before leaving. 

That statement made your blush worsen as you entered the room, wondering how you’ll tell Damian. You didn’t get much time to think about it though before the said man came up the stairs and lugged himself into the room. It looks like Tim wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep on the jet. 

“What’s wrong?” He immediately asked. You could only manage to stare at him, letting the bed speak for itself. His expression remained neutral. 

“There’s only one bed!” You squeaked.

He hummed in agreement, ambling his way around the window to close the shades. “And?” 

“H-how…how are you so calm about this? Weren’t you the one complaining about the idea of sharing a bed literally one night ago?”

“It’s whatever. There’s nothing that can be done in this situation so I’d rather not make a big deal about it. If anything, you seem to be having more of a problem about this than I do.” The smirk he had on his face widened once he saw how flustered you were. 

“So you’re not going to throw a blanket and pillow at me and make me sleep in the tub?” Suddenly your hands seemed to be way more interesting than Damian’s piercing gaze. 

“No, that’s completely idiotic,” He sighed, “I don’t actually hate you enough to do that.”

It shocked you how adamant Damian was about the whole situation, but it was nice to think that Damian was finally warming up to you. Images of Damian spooning you under the fancy silk covers of the bed infested your mind. A few months ago it seemed like an out-of-reach fantasy, but now, not only was it coming true, but Damain was the one who is initiating the whole thing. 

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

Damian was completely exhausted. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t manage to sleep the night prior. A portrait of you was imprinted in his mind, keeping him awake until the odd hours of the morning. Nothing sounded more compelling than to crawl under the covers of the plush bed and sleep until the wedding was over, but every time he looked over to you, he was reminded of how bad of an idea that was. It was regrettable to say, but he was starting to think that his initial impression of you (that he kept for the past few years) was incorrect. Your positivity and constant smile was wearing off on him and it was getting harder and harder to not be happy around you. 

After unpacking the essentials, he followed you around the provincial city and listened to you ramble about how Bordeaux - Port of the Moon - got its name from the distinct crescent shape it had. It was also amusing to hear the way you stuttered over your French to local people and waiters. You dragged him to a few kitschy shops, one being a jewelry store that drew you in with the cute crystalized animals displayed inside the window. 

He was quick to notice the particular way your eyes sparkled when looking at a certain animal figure, even though you were careful not to let him see it. Everything sold at the shop was expensive, more than an average college student could afford, prompting you to leave quickly with an embarrassed flush painted on your face. Damian quickly took note of the animal figure and promised himself to get it for you before leaving France. It was the least he could do for dragging you into this mess.

Night came sooner than he expected, and Damian could tell that you were nervous about sleeping next to him. He too was as nervous as you, but he would rather fight the Joker than admit it. Damian slipped into one of his green checkered pajama pants and simple black long sleeve. He usually slept shirtless but he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were. 

Damian’s insides twisted and churned as he saw you sit on the far end of the bed while he was sprawled out on his side. It was as if he felt guilty, but he really was not sure why. You were just you, someone he was absolutely certain he disliked only a few days ago - but with every smile and touch you give him, he felt himself fall deeper and deeper into a pit of emotion. An emotion that he wasn’t quite sure he could decipher. 

It was clear to him though that the previous way he was treating you was terrible, so the best thing he could do is make you feel cozy. With that in mind, Damian reached for your hand and softly pulled you down to the bed with him. “You don’t have to sit there alone and cold. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You let out another squeak. “Are you sure? I..I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Dami.” 

“I’m sure.” With a look of hesitance, you nuzzled under the blankets next to him. 

For the rest of the night, Damian waited and waited for himself to become restless with you curled up near his arms, but the time never came. A few minutes went by before you passed out, allowing him to gently pull your back against his chest. That night when Damian slept, it was the most tranquil sleep he ever had.

Oh wow, this part was a long one! I'm proud with how it turned out but I'm still mad at myself for taking this long to finish it. It's been a rough couple of days but writing makes me really happy! Thank you everyone for the support!

MYGOSHMYGOSHMYGOSH I ALMOST FORGOT THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE I NEED TO TAG!

So here you go: @greenkiki, @noah-uhhh-what, @littlemiss-nightshade ANNNNNNNNNND @itzstaticrainbow

[ibijau]

I'm in Love (With the Shape of You) pt3/ On A03

It didn’t take long for the Lan juniors to find their sect leader once the weather cleared. They were not alone as they ran into the clearing; a few youths wearing muted green trailed behind them, looking far more lost, for all that they seemed older than the Lans.

Lan Xichen was unsurprised to see Nie juniors, having now met their sect leader. It also did not shock him to learn that they had lost track of him, as well as the sect’s first disciple, who had come to act as a second chaperone.

“Sect leader, what animal is that?” Lan Yahui asked, pointing at the creature laying in a pool of dark blood. “And your clothes… did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Lan Xichen replied, grateful somehow that the boys’ presence forced him back into his role as a confident adult. Before they arrived, he’d been spiralling, almost as badly as he sometimes did before his seclusion. “I fear I have robbed you of your prey. I came upon this shapeshifter as it was attacking someone, and so I had to intervene. Next time, I will be careful and make sure you have a better chance to deal with things yourselves.”

“What happened to the victim?” another Lan boy asked, looking around with a fearful air, as if expecting to discover a human corpse.

“That person became scared when I attacked the monster and ran away. He was wounded, and might need help,” Lan Xichen explained, before turning to the Nie juniors. “It is not my place to ask, but could I trouble you to search around the clearing if you may find that person? Since you are older and more experienced, it would be safer for you than for my students, in case this creature wasn’t acting alone. And while you look, we will dispose of the creature’s corpse to ensure it is truly dead.”

The Nie boys ought to have resented him for giving orders, but if anything they seemed glad to have someone telling them what to do. Young as they were, they’d never known Nie Mingjue as a sect leader, and probably weren’t at ease when Night Hunting, the way the previous generation of their sect was. Since Lan Xichen was confident that the shapeshifter had been alone, it seemed safe to send the boys away. That way, if Nie Huaisang was found wounded, it would be by people who were more likely to keep it secret, sparing him the shame of being publicly rescued by Lan Xichen.

As expected, while Lan Xichen and his juniors burned the monster’s corpse and performed purification rituals, one Nie boy came back and explained they had found the victim. They would be bringing him to safety, he awkwardly explained, so Lan Xichen needn’t trouble himself about that. Lan Xichen thanked him. His juniors and him finished the ritual, then went back in town to announce that the bamboo forest was safe once more.

Thus concluded a Night Hunt which Lan Xichen hoped to never think about ever again.

A wish immediately denied.

As they all flew back toward Gusu, the juniors naturally started chatting about this experience. Had some other teacher accompanied them, they might have remained silent, but Lan Xichen was known to be nearly as indulgent as his brother. Just that time he considered demanding that the rules be better followed, but in the end thought better of it. Such a change of attitude would certainly be noticed by the boys, who would then discuss it, and speculate about its cause.

Do not gossip, said the rules, and they said so several times, in varied wording, because it was always the hardest one to obey.

The conversations started innocently enough, anyway. The boys were filled with regret that they hadn’t had a chance to shine, but all also agreed that as long as it was someone from their own sect who had slayed the monster, it counted as a victory for all of them. From there, they naturally wondered how it would have gone, had they had a chance to confront the monster in person.

“It probably took the shape of someone the victims loved a lot, didn’t it?” Lan Yahui remarked midway through describing his own hypothetical fight. “Since they'd all lost people they loved. I wonder who it would have looked like, for me.”

“Someone they loved and who was gone,” someone corrected. “I guess it would have looked like your mother.”

“I couldn’t have defeated it then,” Lan Yahui lamented.

“For me, it would be my older sister,” another boy remarked.

“Didn’t you always fight with her when you two met?”

“Yes, but I miss her now that she’s gone to her husband’s sect. It’s too far away, she never visits… Who would it be, for you?”

“My friend Duan Qing from the Ouyang sect. I still can’t believe he’s gone… Night Hunts can be so scary…”

Others too contributed their own ideas, while Lan Xichen listened and wondered if he ought to put an end to such macabre talk. Just as he was deciding that it was good for the boys to talk openly about their feelings of loss, Lan Yahui spoke to once again say something that ought not have been said.

“Sect Leader, what form did it take when you fought it?” the boy asked.

Lan Xichen shivered, thinking of the way the shapeshifter had tried to change one final time, just before dying. Its features had been undefined and yet familiar. Unrecognisable, and yet known to his heart.

“I surprised it as it was focused on another victim,” Lan Xichen quietly stated. “Its shape was not directed at me.”

“Oh. But who do you think…”

“I think that’s enough chatter for the moment,” Lan Xichen quickly cut Lan Yahui. “It would be unfortunate if one of you became so distracted he lost focus and fell off his sword.”

Obediently, the boys stopped talking.

Lan Xichen immediately wished he had merely suggested a different topic, instead of demanding complete silence. Without the distraction of their conversations, his own thoughts started spiralling in the exact way he had managed to avoid since being reunited with his students.

Was Lan Yahui’s assessment of the shapeshifter truly right? Did it really take the shape of people dear to its victims? It certainly fit with the profile of those who had died previously, who had all recently lost people they loved, but in that case Nie Huaisang had to be an exception. He’d made it clear enough that he hated Lan Xichen when Lan Xichen visited him after his seclusion.

It had happened two, maybe three weeks after his return to the world following his seclusion. Lan Xichen, determined to right his wrongs, had gone to Qinghe against the opinion of nearly everyone in his life. 

Lan Qiren had been the only one to encourage it, convinced that a reconciliation was not impossible. His belief, or so Lan Xichen suspected, was that since Nie Huaisang had taken no step to eliminate Lan Xichen, he must not have considered him an enemy. It was a conclusion Lan Xichen himself had also reached over the course of his two years in isolation. Since Nie Huaisang had proven himself to be particularly merciless toward those he hated, apparent mercy may hold hidden meanings.

That hope was shattered when Lan Xichen reached the Unclean Realm. Nie Huaisang received him with no warmth, and quickly accused Lan Xichen of being conceited for thinking he would ever be welcome again in his home. Having expected some outbursts of anger, Lan Xichen did not let it stop him from offering that they make peace and try to reconcile.

“What do we have to make peace about?” Nie Huaisang had asked. “Are you making some accusations against me, sect leader Lan?”

Lan Xichen would not have dared. He argued that he only meant to apologise for his role in what happened to Nie Mingjue, and to resume the friendship Nie Huaisang and him had once shared.

“Friendship, you say,” Nie Huaisang had scoffed. “But were we friends, I wonder?”

Lan Xichen had believed so, sincerely. His friendship with Nie Huaisang had been different from what he had shared with either of his sworn brothers, but still valuable in its own way.

“A friend would have told me he had found my brother’s corpse,” Nie Huaisang had argued. “A friend would have let me know my brother's body had been desecrated. A friend would have warned me my brother had been murdered. You who did none of these things, you who let me learn it from the mouth of my brother’s murderer, will you really dare call yourself my friend?”

To this, Lan Xichen had wanted to give a thousand answers, his uncertainties about the murder, his fear about Nie Huaisang’s always fragile mental state, his reluctance to accuse a man who had been so dear a friend to both of them. These answers had all remained stuck in his throat, petrified as he had been by the intense hatred he had seen on Nie Huaisang’s face.

Lan Xichen had apologised for wasting Nie Huaisang’s time and, after one final reminder that he was still welcome to Gusu after all this, he had left the Unclean Realm, certain he would never return.

In the months that had passed since then, their paths had crossed once or twice. Nie Huaisang had never let his hatred seep through again, but neither had he bothered with showing more than the coldest politeness he could get away with.

And yet the shapeshifter had turned into Lan Xichen to trap Nie Huaisang. It had offered him love and forgiveness, and Nie Huaisang had accepted both, even letting the creature kiss him to steal his strength. Why? Shouldn’t it have appeared as Nie Mingjue instead? If there was one person in the world Nie Huaisang loved, it was his brother, the man for whose memory he’d thrown the cultivation sects into chaos. The man for whom he had provoked murders and suicides. The man for whom he had sacrificed a decade of his life, along with his pride, his honour.

It should have been Nie Mingjue.

Why hadn’t it been Nie Mingjue?

Why had it been Lan Xichen instead?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Wh…

Lan Xichen felt his stomach lift as he started falling. At the price of some effort, he managed to right himself up on his, while the juniors stared at him with horror. A few had already extended their arms toward him, as if intending to catch him.

“We’ve all had a long day,” Lan Xichen calmly noted through his wounded dignity upon being caught making a mistake as basic as losing focus while flying. “Let’s stop in the first town we see and stay the night, so everyone can rest.”

The boys agreed a little more loudly than was proper, but Lan Xichen could not have scolded them at such a time.

Determined to act again the part of an adult they could look up to, Lan Xichen pushed away any thoughts of Nie Huaisang.

There would be time for that later, when he had both his feet on firm ground.

[plutoscosmoss]

Fire Inside ➸ c.5

Warnings: This series includes themes of violence, death, smut, childbirth and childbirth complications (if I forgot to mention any please let me know)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x OC

{Series Masterlist}

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5: Afternoon Stroll

Making her way through the castle, Renva twirled a small chunk of her hair between her fingers. A habit she and her older brother shared. Much like Renva, Cregan had one curl where his widow's peak was, that if it was long enough would twirl when he was anxious. Thinking about their similarities Renva realized how much she missed her older brother. While he was strict they still loved each other deeply and cared if the other was hurting. Oh how Renva wished life could go back to how it was before receiving the letter from the king and queen. 

It was nearing lunch time, so Renva made her way to the dining area where there was always some food laid out. When walking into the room she spotted the Velaryon boys along with her brother huddled together. 

“Hello Lady Stark!” Joffery yelled as he spotted Renva approaching. The young boy ran up to Renva and gave her a hug, almost knocking her to the floor. 

“Joffrey, be careful with our guests. It is impolite to hug without asking for permission.” Jacaerys spoke as he approached the two. 

“Oh it is certainly okay. I love hugs, just ask my brother.” Renva responded nodding to her brother, while bending down a little to hug Joffrey properly. 

“I wouldn’t call what you do hugging. You ambush us and tackle us.” Ranvir chuckled as he reminisced about his sister's actions. “Well father begs to differ. He loves my hugs.” Renva said as she let go of Joffrey. “Where have you been sister? Training ended a while ago?” Ranvir said concerned for his sisters’ whereabouts. After spending much time with her two suitors he rather liked Jacaerys over Aemond. Aemond was too cold for Renva, whereas Jace was much kinder and lighthearted. The two got along quite well, he hoped for him to be a match with his sister. 

“I was in the library reading about wisps.” Renva spoke, “But you are quite the fast reader sister, how big was the book?” Ranvir joked with his sister wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Actually as I was finishing the book Princess Rhaenyra came in and we talked for a little while. That’s when I lost track of time.” At Revas words Jace perked up, his mother speaking to someone he might marry was nerve wracking. He wanted to know exactly what they had talked about. 

Turning to Jace, “You have a wonderful mother. You were surely blessed.” Renva spoke with a warm smile on her face. It made Jace’s heart flutter, a feeling he hadn’t felt before. “Thank you Lady Stark, my mother is truly a godsend.” Jace agreed,  taking a few steps closer to Renva. “Would you care for a walk?” Jace asked, stretching out his arm gesturing to the door. “It would be my pleasure, My Prince. Let me just grab a quick muffin before then.” Renva agreed while quickly grabbing one of the muffins that sat on the table. Ranvir knew it was his duty to follow them as a chaperone, so he followed a few steps behind the pair. 

“So Lady Stark-” Jace started before Renva interrupted, “Please your grace, call me Renva. Lady makes me feel old.” He gave her a small smile, “As long as you call me Jace instead of ‘your grace’.” Jace said. “I think that can be Gillianenged.” Renva said, giving a slight smile. 

“I know it hasn’t been long, but how are you enjoying the Red Keep?” Jace started to spark conversation. “It is lovely, I love the feeling of the warm sun but the cool breeze.” Jace nodded for her to continue talking. “In the North the only real warmth is if you are standing in direct sunlight. Otherwise it is dreadfully cold, you can easily get hypothermia in the winter months if you aren’t constantly dressed properly.” Renva spoke, occasionally glancing towards Jace only to find that he was already looking at her. 

“I never really experienced much cold. Ever since Joffrey was born we stayed at Dragonstone. I have memories of it here but they aren't all fond.” Jace responded remembering the day Ser Harwin left due to him not being strong enough to go against Aegon and win.

“All memories can't be fond, Jace. If they were we wouldn’t be able to tell what the really good ones are. We need bad days to make the nice ones feel amazing. We wouldn’t learn much otherwise.” Renva spoke, placing a hand upon Jaces shoulder. The small gesture made Jace feel whole. A feeling that hasn’t been a constant one for him lately. 

“I guess you are right, or else how would I be able to remember how amazing this one is right now.” Jace gave a warm smile to Renva. “You are too kind Jace. I do have a serious question for you however.” Renva started changing the conversation. “Ask away.” Jace grew nervous, he had no clue what her talk was with his mother and could only hope it wasn’t related to that. 

“Do you know if your mother was offering your hand to spite the queen, or was it genuine.” Renva was nervous asking Jace this question. If Jace perceived it as rude it could cause trouble between not only them but the Starks and Rhaenyra’s family. “I think she offered because of your ancestors' pledge to ward the crown. I’m sure you are well aware of the conflict between my mother and my uncle. If my grandfather were to pass, Queen Alicent is sure to try to put Aegon on the throne.” Jace glanced at Renva to see her reaction, all she was doing was furrowing her brows which is something he noticed the night prior when she was heavy in thought. “She has wanted me to marry for some time. We had made a deal that I wouldn’t have to be betrothed until next year. However I am not upset that she has offered my betrothal early. I am very lucky to be an option for you.” Renva turned to look at Jace as he said this.  

When he smiled the outer corners of his eyes did a little scrunch that she found charming. Renva glanced back at the sound of thundering paws. Spotting Signe running towards her, she smirked. She decided this was a good opportunity to see if Jace was a good match. Signe did not like people outside of the Stark Family, so if she was able to tolerate Jace, it was a sign that she felt Jace was a good person. 

“Signe my beautiful girl, how are you?” Signe rubbed her snout on Renva's hands at her words.  “This is your Direwolf?” Jace said remaining where he stood, he learned about direwolves from the maesters. He was not going to spook the she-wolf and cause his own demise. “It is, would you like to greet her?” Renva said, stretching a hand out to Jace. Jace saw the wolf at the training grounds earlier that day and she looked much bigger in person. He wasn’t scared per say considering he rode a dragon, however dragons and direwolves are alike in the sense that they care for their companion. “I would be glad to.” Jace accepted her hand. Stepping forward slowly Signe let out a light growl, Jace took a deep breath as did Renva. Signe sniffed the air around Jaces’ hand before stepping past Renva towards Jace. Jace felt the wolf’s cold snout press against his hand, the hot air coming from the creature's nose reminded him of his dragon Vermax. 

Jace looked towards Renva with a light smile. Turning back to the wolf Renva saw a sight she never thought to see. Signe sat down in front of Jace and nudged his palm signaling for him to pet her. It was what she did to those who she thought had good intentions. Renva only saw this once before, right after she bonded with Revna did Signe go up to her family members and give them all a small nudge with her head. Since that day she has never done that again. “Does that mean she likes me?” Jace said petting the wolfs’ neck which she only allowed Renva to do before. “I believe that is her saying that you passed.” Renva said, smiling back at Jace. 

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

next chapter

[motorclit]

ANYTIME I bring up to my parents how something in the bible is meant to be one thing and not the other, they spend the whole goddamn time arguing either giving me a non-answer as to why I'm somehow wrong, they talk about OTHER things in the bible, or they trash on Muslims in some way, depending on how Islamophobic they feel that day.

He'll? Actual place, but not in the afterlife. It was a burning garbage dump used sometimes to punish people or used as a threat to punish people.

There are also a couple of quotes talking about how "you have a better chance of putting a camel through the eye of a needle than you do a rich man into the kingdom of heaven" as well as "YOU CANNOT WORSHIP MONEY AND GOD" but greedy cheetoh supporters (especially my dad who dreams of being rich) will ignore that.

Also I think the whole Sodom and Gomorrah thing where men should not sleep with men as if they were a woman was actually a mistranslation, and it's men should not sleep with BOYS as they do with women, meaning the bible condemns pedophilia.

The Bible is just so famously mistranslated so many times and so many xtians don't read the damn thing. That book is obsessed with punishment and incest and shit like that. Why do you think I switched to a Pagan path?

Shockingly, my parents don't mind that I'm pagan? I don't get it either. They're open-minded on some of the weirdest shit but never where we need it to count, and I believe this boils down to personal experiences. (Both of my parents have experienced some heavy paranormal shit in their lives.) I think they secretly like the fact that I can banish bad things if need be (like my grandma's ghost since she was not very nice (to say the least) when she was alive and was hostile as a ghost). My parents went to 2 mediums (who seemed legit?) when my brother died back in 2011. Me banishing grandma allowed my brother's spirit to be comfortable visiting because he didn't like her even in the afterlife.

My parents also accept the concept of evolution. Their justification? "God works in mysterious ways." But apparently that doesn't work when it comes to the existence of the LGBTQ+ community? Like I said, they're open-minded about some of the weirdest shit. Aliens are fine but coexistence with Muslims is not? Earth ain't flat and dinosaurs existed, but anybody outside of cishet norms is.. well you know what they accuse them of.

I think the biggest reason they are fine with me being Pagan is because I'm going back to my Serbian roots... so far back thay I'm taking as much of the church aspects out of my practice. And my parents seem to like that because I've been also trying to learn more about dad's side of the family. Once my uncle (dad's brother) gets his moving situation straightened out, he's gonna give me a copy of the family tree from that side of the family.

Then there's a part of me wondering if they think it's only a matter of time before I "come back to jesus" because they've "strayed from the path back in their day too."

I'm older than my mom was when she had me (which is still freaky for me to comprehend) and she "came back to jesus" several years before she was pregnant with me. So I doubt it.

I'm still convinced of the correlations of leaded fuel and its affects of my parents' generation though, and that might be why they are the way they are right now. (This is based on my speculation trying to make sense of why they're so susceptible to right-wing fear-mongering.)

Sorry for the long rant but just.. Holy shit. If I use the Bible to call them out on their shit, somehow they're exempt, and it doesn't make any sense. And the more I demand that they explain, the more hostility I'm met with. AND THIS GOES FOR ANYTHING. INCLUDING IF THE CHEETOH SUDDENLY CHANGES HIS TUNE AND MY PARENTS ACT LIKE HE NEVER SAID THEBOTHER THING BEFORE EVEN WHEN SHOWING THEM A VIDEO. MY PARENTS ARE LITERALLY THE BRAINWASHED MASSES OF GEORGE ORWELL'S 1984.

[bexstorytime]

You had been spending more and more time with your older and most favorite brother. You two were so similar, this world where baby never knew daddy and all the horribly perverted things he showed her. Baby also never found tumblr and experienced any of the wonderful slutty things you know and love now. You were your dads ideal daughter, shy and innocent ( it’s my story! Deal with it😝😝😝😝😅)

You were watching your largest and older brother looking through al the clothes, you tried to help him and you could see he was growing more and more frustrated until he finally just gave up and suggested you dress him

The excitement of playing dress up with made you so happy as you raced around the store for a few outfits for him. You sho’d him into the dressing room where he was fumbling around, impatiently you peeled your head and caught a glimpse of his large broad back as he then slide a button up on. You quietly exited feeling a lil flushed at the sight of his shoulders.

It’s been years since you lived together, and you never realized he was exactly your type. Stocky, pale, weird, and funny. For some reason you felt a little twinge of excitement when you peeked in on him.this was a foreign feeling to you, not that you never touched yourself. Just that it wasn’t as high on your list of things to do. So the fact that you were effect from just the sight of him shirtless shocked you

You waited for him to exit the dressing room and model for you, noticing the pants might be slightly too small for his neither regions. Then you chuckled at yourself for even looking at your brothers crotch. You sent him back in telling him to try that shirt with a different pair of pants. You could hear him struggling and the task of dressing him took over as you boldly walked in on him pulling the pants off his legs.

He had one leg in the air and a hand on the wall opening up his thick pale thighs to your now needy eyes. You felt a substantial amount of cunt juices ooze into your undies seeing the bulge in his large boxers. You scolded him in a hushed whisper not wanting anyone to know you were in there with him. But you made the excuse that he’s just your brother if anyone caught you…. But that thought turned you on even more

“My own brother” you said in your head as you stared at his crotch, you could have sworn you say it jump when he realized you were walking in. “Bekah!!??” He hushed back , “what are you doing in here??!!”

“You’re taking so long!! I’m here to help! Since you can’t even pick out your own clothes I might as well dress you too!” Something stirred inside you, something about you commanding such a large man. You knelt down and removed the tight pant leg stuck to his ankle, attempting to look up at him with your explode low cut top, your tits in full view for him. But looking at him just made his cock respond. And it was in your line of sight. You joked about him having been single for too long if you were turning him on

He only turned more red from embarrassment, as you stayed kneeling holding the next pants open for him to dress. You didn’t realize being this close would effect you this much either. And his slight scent of your favorite cologne now had you more turned on then you can remember.

You slowly pulled both pants legs up him taking your time to burn the sights to your memory. Your hands on his pants tugging them up, as he placed his hands on yours to help, you could see his massive cock was now straining against the thin fabric of his soft boxers. His touch on you was electric, causing you to jump, groan, and dampen almost all at once.

He stood there with his arms out modeling for you in the tiny dressing room, and you told him he looked good but he needed to tuck his shirt in. You didn’t even think about it as you reached your arms around his torso, Barry able to touch your hands around his stocky frame. And you slide the shirt down over his ass. Suddenly you both realized just how close you were as your forehead was right as his chin. Neither of you said anything as you slide your hands around his hips. Both brother and sister are panting in unison as you realize you’re tucking his shirt in just around his cock.

You shrug and say to yourself, well I need to finish the job as you tuck him in, your hands rubbing all over h the base of his cock. Unknown to you is that Jeremy was equally turned on as you were by him. He wrapped his hands around you hugging you so tight as your look up and he plants the biggest most innocent kiss on you. You lose yourself in the situation. And your lips lock his perfectly not wet or sloppy kiss. Your hands do what they’ve secretly wanted for years. As you wrap your hands around his cock through his boxers.

You realize you’re finally touching the first cock of your life, and something about it being your brother’s set you off. You’ve never felt this wet before. As you break the kiss and kneel wanting to see your prize.

He doesn’t protest, just leans against the wall, letting you undress him. And you yank down his pants and boxers like a kid on Christmas morning opening the biggest gift. You gasp as his nearly 10 inch cock bobs out, sticking straight out letting you see the prettiest cock imaginable. It’s so thick your little fingers don’t reach around the shaft. As you begin massaging it clumsily. Jeremy takes your hands in his and shows you a much better technique. Before you’ve gotten a few pumps off a long string of precum leaks from his swollen head. You can see he’s so hard, which surprises you at how soft it feels in your hands

Another string shoots out a bit more hitting your exposed chest. You think I can’t make a mess!!! So you wrap your soft lips around his raging hard head. He groans at the sudden change in texture. And almost falls to the floor. He’s able to steady himself enough to sit on the bench. Looking at his obscenely big cock sticking straight up.

You turn you back to him thinking you heard a noise, as you peek out of the dressing room you feel his strong hands on your hips, pulling down your pants and undies to see your dripping virgin hole. All sense of brain power is lost for him as he wraps his hands around your hips pulling you back and you are impaled by his massive cock in one thrust. The good girl inside of you does everything you can to not scream. You let out soft whimpers as you nearly bit through your lip

You reach down to your flat tummy and you can feel inches of his hard cock against your stomach. The pain and sensation is a rush of orgasmic pleasure. Something about this feels so natural. As you start to raise and then he pulls you back down. Something about this fees even better then before. As you try to stand again, not trying to get away. But wanting him to pull you down harder. And his primal urges do just that. You leave your hand on your stomach as you both work in unison of standing and pulling back. You can feel his thick swollen cock slamming into your hand through your body… and wonder to yourself why you’ve waited so long to do this

You can hear ppl walking around through the thin curtain, as you sit down trying to not make a sound you actually push back and take his cock inside of you to the root of his cock. The feeing is too much for the both of you. As you have your first real orgasm of your life. And your brother unleashes a torrent of potent cum into your unprotected pussy.

As you fee him bucking and humping into you, rutting the last of his seed into you. You look back over your shoulder and you ask… can I come over for the night?

[pursuingred]

I will be honest with you now, I did not always notice the disappearances. It just didn’t occur to me that anything strange was going on. Nobody really talked about it so the whole thing had an air of mundane around it. It would be a classmates older sibling, an upperclassman, and eventually classmates themselves. “Maybe they transferred” “Maybe they moved away” were all the thought anyone would put towards it. Even the siblings who had no idea where their family went.

Despite the strangeness of it all, I never really thought about it. Until my own brother was taken. He just wasn’t home anymore one morning. I had gone to wake him up because he was going to be late for his 7am college class but his room was empty. My parents were weirdly unconcerned. “Oh he probably went out to hang out with his friends and stayed out too late” was what they said. It didn’t really make sense to me. I remembered him going to his room early last night. He didn’t come home that day, or the next.. or the next…

And our parents never batted an eye. “He must have moved in with a friend” they would say. “He must have gotten sick of us!” They would joke. His laptop, phone, clothing, everything was still in his room. Untouched. That was when I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. All those others who went missing, was it the same as my brother? And nobody bothered to wonder or look for them after all this time.

I started looking through my brothers things for some kind of clue. And I found some. They aren’t clear though, merely pieces to a greater puzzle. But it is a good stepping stone.

To this day my brother has not come home, nor has he been heard of by anyone. There are still disappearances but they are not runaways, transfers, or anything you might think. There is an angel bathed in crimson light who spirits them away in the night. They must be behind the phenomena of indifference the people around the taken are experiencing. I am not sure how but I need to find a way to meet the angel without being taken. I need to find a way to bring them back.

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

this got long, so TL;DR: I am asexual and in the asexual community. Nobody here thinks that's what those labels mean or imply. Everybody here loves, values, and treasures our nonsexual and nonromantic relationships and considers them equally as important as sexual and romantic relationships.

As an asexual person, please?

I also strongly object to the idea that the most standard and basic way for humans to relate to each other is sexually, or even romantically. So would every other asexual or aromantic person I know. So would all the heterosexual and homosexual people I know. (BTW the word you're looking for is "allosexual", aka you DO experience sexual attraction of some kind, regardless of orientation.)

I'll preface this with the fact that I, as stated, am asexual, yet I still consider myself straight. Among other reasons, I am heteroROMANTIC and do plan on marrying a member of the opposite sex. I can go into this more if you like.

To clarify because it's been an issue of confusion before: asexuality and demisexuality do NOT mean "I don't want to have sex until I know a person / am married." That is standards and/or boundaries, worldview and/or ideology and/or religion. Anyone can have those. If you have religious convictions, I'm sorry, that doesn't make you asexual or demi. Those labels means you experience little (in the case of demi) or no sexual ATTRACTION.

I cannot, for the life of me, figure out from looking at a guy if he's "hot" or "cute" or anything else. Many times I told someone "I'm considering this guy romantically" and the first question was "ooohh, is he cute?" To which my response was, without fail: "I dont know, you tell me [show picture]". Eventually, when they all said "oohhhh he IS cute!!" I would sigh and say, "so I've been told." I can also extrapolate from information: e.g. if a guy is tall, has a lot of muscle, etc? Okay he's probably conventionally attractive. I feel nothing, emotionally or physically, from looking at such a guy. I am not irresistibly drawn to him. I do not crave his presence, approval, or favor just because he looks a certain way.

I feel zero attraction. No desire to know what they'd be like in bed or kiss them or anything else. The most I've ever cared about a guy's physical appearance has been "hmmm I wonder what his beard feels like." I have not taken the liberty of finding this out with anyone except my father. Perhaps it might be more accurate to say, "I wonder what ANY beard feels like" because my curiosity is now sated and I have no particular interest in finding out more from any other guys.

I apologize if I am miserably failing to describe sexual attraction. I've never experienced it, see. Feel free to (politely) correct any misunderstanding.

But I do NOT, in any sense, imagine that allosexual people's only important relationships are sexual. I (a "straight" cis woman) have a strong, healthy, awesome and amazing relationship with my father, with my brother, and with my other brother. I have a close and fond relationship with my other two brothers, with a male friend I met at school and with another male friend I met at school. I have a competitive, intellectually rich relationship with almost all of the above plus a male friend I met at a social gathering. I have a nerdy and awesome relationship with a male friend I met at that social gathering and with another male friend I met at that social gathering. I have a teasing/rivalrous relationship with an older man I met at church. I have made good friends with another older man I met at church and with another older man I met at church and with an older man I met at that social gathering. To say nothing of my female friendships.

None of those are sexual. Three are near enough my age and interests that I have considered them romantically (perhaps four depending on how you count) but the relationships themselves have not become romantic and I experience no sexual or any physical attraction towards them (despite some(?) of them being conventionally attractive as far as I am aware). I love my friends as friends, and value and treasure them. They are all, as far as I know, allosexual and alloromantic, and they love and value and treasure me and their other friends.

Being asexual says nothing about what the most standard way of relating/perceiving is. It's saying that, whether sexual attraction is the most standard and basic or not, we don't experience it. And no, again, sex is not the most standard and basic.

The asexual community - and the aromantic community - do the exact OPPOSITE of "othering" nonromantic and nonsexual relationships. We celebrate them. We struggle to understand and relate to sexual/romantic relationships, and consider friendships, familial bonds, and other relationships as being equally important as sexual and romantic ones. We neither condemn nor devalue romantic and sexual relationships, although we do sometimes feel abandoned by our friends who are allosexual and/or alloromantic, who suddenly get a significant other and elevate that person above longtime friendships.

Being allosexual does not and never has implied, to me or anyone else, that the ONLY important relationships an allosexual person has are sexual ones. Is a sexual/romantic relationship AMONG the most important ones for most people? Of course! They're your life partner! Asexual people can have life partners too and we understand that.

"(A-spec labels imply) the default heterosexual way of perceiving others of the same sex is apathetic ambivalence" have you. Have you SEEN how heterosexual people act around people of the same sex? Girls share all their secrets with each other, giggle and laugh about guys they consider "hot," and plan their weddings together. They're closer than peas in a pod. They're thicker than thieves. They're besties. All the heterosexual people I know are closest friends with members of the SAME sex, not opposite. Myself? An asexual? I'm very close with my female friends. Not as close as I am with immediate family members, but I have two dear female best friends. I just spent the day with them earlier this week. I've been friends with them for a long time. I have many other female friends and acquaintances that I talk to occasionally, if not regularly.

Meanwhile, it is commonly reported among heterosexuals that girls and guys CAN'T "just be friends" and there is frequently "no platonic explanation for XYZ." I think just maybe, it's not the asexuals who make sexual relationships the priority and who devalue nonsexual and nonromantic relationships.

The asexual/aromantic labels and community do not consider ANY sexual or romantic orientation or lack thereof to be the default, most basic, or standard. Most asexuals and aromantics consider themselves to be queer and emphasize that the A in LGBTQIA+ is for asexual, aromantic, aplatonic, and agender. (It is also frequently written as LGBTQIAAAA+). Depending on your definition of queer, I don't consider myself such. (Haha look at my username.) The "gift of celibacy" is right there in the Bible and Paul urges people not to get married. Since I am the daughter of an asexual woman, I have never faced a-phobia and have been raised with an understanding of asexuality, although not in those terms. Christian and/or conservative a-phobia, that many asexual and aromantic people experience regularly, appears baffling and contradictory to me. Perhaps if I had experienced the same I would relate more to the label "queer." Anyway: yeah the queer asexual community is not in the habit of treating any orientation or experience as "standard" or "basic" or "default."

If you think that "considering straight to be the default orientation" (esp in exclusion of homosexuality) makes sexuality to be the most basic and standard way of relating to people, I don't know what to tell you. Please don't worry about the a-spec labels implying this because nobody at all thinks they do.

If you're allosexual and you value your friends, regardless of gender? If you value your significant other for more than their sexual assets? Congrats, you're a human being who experiences sexual, romantic, and platonic attraction. You are, for lack of better terms, "whole" and "normal." Asexual people and aromantic people are also whole, although "normal" might be a stretch.

Footnote: I speak from the perspective primarily of a cis, asexual, heteroromantic woman. I have not delved deeply into other viewpoints because I have not experienced them.

One of the main issues with labels like asexual and demisexual and queerplatonic, in my opinion, is the "othering" of nonsexual relationships.

The labels imply that the only truly "straight" person is someone whose only important relationships are sexual; whose default way of perceiving members of the opposite sex is sexually, and whose default attitude toward people of the same sex is apathetic ambivalence.

And so what this implies, assuming "straight" is the default sexual orientation, (traditionally it is) is that the most standard and basic way for humans to relate to each other is sexually. To which I strongly object.

[ykoriana-imperatrix]

SDC Month - December 2022 - Saturday #4

Shared misfortune is thicker than water.

VIII. Ruhika

"You understand," his half-brother states, with an intensity that sends shivers down Ruhika's spine. "Father cares little for you," he adds with devastating bluntness, "They lack even that fond tolerance They can muster towards Papaxira — surely, you must have felt it at some point?" Slowly, as the world seems to reshape itself around him, an overwhelming tightness in his chest, he gazes upon Nuhuron and sees him in a new light. Yes, there might be an abyss in rank between them, Jade Lord and a mere blood-rank two son of the Gods, but there is a kinship between them he has never experienced with any other sibling, not even Papaxira.

Notes

Ruhika (yes, another fanon character) would be a non-main line son of Qusata, the full uncle of the previously-featuring Yarexira, and the father of Juyire. He happened to be close in age (one year older) to his half-brother Nuhuron, one of the factors that was instrumental in creating a connection between them. @suth-sardian and I headcanon Qusata as having complicated feelings — deriving from the circumstances of his own childhood and upbringing — which resulted in him, atypically for a Chosen man, having much better relationships with his daughters/granddaughters/female relations in general than with his sons/grandsons/other male relations. The latter mostly ranged from a sort of benevolent neglect to truly strained and (especially once said sons/other male relatives were older) borderline antagonistic. Unfortunately for him, Ruhika ended up being part of that second group (his older full brother Papaxira managing to be more neutrally, if not exactly positively, regarded by their father), a commonality he had with Nuhuron, and that his half-brother soon became keenly aware of. Had Ruhika been lower-ranked, more distant from Nuhuron in age, or someone who had ever offended him in some manner (actual or perceived), it is possible everything might have played out quite differently regarding their relationship, and that the young then-Jade Lord (even as a child, haughty and difficult to get along with) would have never approached his half-brother in this way. As it was, their circumstances led to the proud Nuhuron uncharacteristically finding himself feeling something almost like sympathy towards Ruhika; following this exchange, the two boys were quick to identify each other as potential allies, their bond not only developing further but lasting for the remainder of their lives (which would also almost mirror each other in length, as Ruhika would die only a few months before his half-brother).

(Also, an aside: given the date, I would like to wish everyone a wonderful Christmas Eve — even if you don't celebrate it, just replace my earlier words by "a wonderful day".)

[mercy-burning]

Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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[peakyltd]

“Tonight, I’m the one who saves you, angel.” I finally got some time to write this comment. I’ve read this part a few days ago but I wanted to write a proper comment instead of a quick short one, so here we go!

I almost shivered at the coldness which Tommy treated Arthur with. It was nice to see Polly trying to do at least something, knowing it could go in any wrong direction in a split second. It must’ve been some sort of relief for him to hear that she was okay but he still couldn’t go see her. You wrote it perfectly, no words needed only a never ending gaze from Tommy Shelby himself to control his older brother. Also I can’t believe that same Tommy still tried to blame Heaven???? I loved how Polly simply but effectively told him the harsh truth. 

“Whether you like it or not this company’s license is written in blood, and its foundations are made with dead bodies. We are all standing on an empire of silent hearts and maimed flesh.” This was such a powerful line and you came up with a perfect summary of their business!

You wrote Tommy PERFECTLY when he suddenly wanted to vote. The choices he made for the other family members who were not there and taking Ada’s opinion as a negative one. John standing up for his brother was so moving. “I like her, and she deserves a place in this fucking family, even though she'll soon understand she ain't the curse but this family name is.” Yesssss couldn’t agree more although I think it’s not necessarily the family name but Tommy himself. It’s also so in character for John to say stuff like this! 

The intense emotions when Arthur arrived back home were so beautifully written. They were captured in a way that as a reader, they’ll hit you. Pulling you into their story even more. 

What followed had me blushing 👀 My goooosh the passion between the two of them, just wanting to give themselves fully to the other. “Tonight, I’m the one who saves you, angel.”  Shaaaark what are you doing to me 😩

Her past was so incredibly traumatizing, it hurt my heart to read about the horrors she has been trough. Arthur was so gentle and understanding during the whole story, I was just in awe. It did let me wonder if Tommy will use those things we know now against her in some way. Since he found out those things as well... I guess I’ll have to find out! 

I loved it Shark, it was so intense and so incredibly written that it felt like I was there, experiencing the same. Like I said before the way you capture the characters’ emotions just blew my mind! I can’t wait to read the next part and hopefully catch up before finding who died in your last chapter (just saw your warnings) although I think I have a feeling who it might be... 

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Following the event of the kidnapping of his son, Thomas and the rest of the family learn you have killed a man. Confused and in a state of shock, the Shelbys debate whether or not they should accept you. But while they are debating, you are falling into a pit of anxiety. Now, it's Arthur's time to be there for you.

Words: 6K

TW: Light angst, canonical description of violence, mention of child abuse, smut, unprotected sex, mention of death and torture, trauma talk, fluff, hurt/comfort

Notes:

✞ Admittedly this part is longer than what I planned to do but it has plenty of essential moments and discussions. The next chapter wont be that long. As for the smut part, it is quite long too but it does have a purpose in the story. You can skip it if you want but you'll miss information.

✞ This chapter is complementary to the one-shot From Blood We'll Grow (but no need to read it)

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Thomas Shelby was leaning against the kitchen counter, cigarette hanging in his lips and piercing blue eyes focused on the needle of the pocket watch he was holding in his hand. It would not be long before Arthur and John would come back, consequently he did his best to enjoy the precious quietness of the house before some family chaos. He put the watch back in the pocket of his vest and took a quick look at Polly, Ada, and Michael, who had no other choice but to wait with him. When Tommy demanded a family reunion, every one of them knew they better not missed it. The two women were sitting at the table, a smoking hot cup of tea in their hands. Polly’s dark irises were staring at an invisible spot on the wall in front of her as she lost herself in the meanders of her own thoughts. Contrary to her aunt, Ada could not stay still. She was nervously moving her leg, eyes shifting between her big brother, the clock on the wall, and her own hands.

“Where’s she?!” Arthur’s voice suddenly roared in the kitchen, alongside the loud bang the door made when he almost burst it open.

Here we go, Tommy thought even though his face remain placid. Knowing Charlie was safe at home had extinguished his anger.

“Is she okay?” John asked, sincerely worried for you. As time passed, he had grown fond of your presence more and more. He was out of breath for he had been running behind his oldest brother, trying to catch up with him. When he entered the kitchen, less than one minute after Arthur, he had leaned against one chair with his hands and tried his best not to spit his burning lungs out.

“Calm down, Arthur.” Tommy issued with a neutral voice, looking at Arthur’s face which was distorted with both worry and rage.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Tom! Where the FOOK is she?” At first, Tommy thought his brother was just agitated, but when he saw Arthur coming at him with teeth bared and darkened eyes he understood it was not a simple tantrum. It was fury — the same fury that had pushed him to almost killed the man who had tried to murder Thomas at the horse race, to the point they had to choke him until he almost blacked out just to calm him. Tommy did not falter though and remained motionless.

Witnessing how enraged the oldest sibling was, Polly got up from her chair and grabbed him by the arm.

“She’s fine! I’ve taken care of her myself. She is fine.” Polly repeated louder, hoping her words would overcome her nephew’s terrifying fit. She had barely finished her sentence when Arthur turned his head to her in one vivid movement and growled like an animal. However, his facial expression relaxed a little despite his brows still furrowed and his eyes shooting bullets at everyone he was looking at. Anger was boiling in his veins, fueling his heart that was pumping to the rhythm of his growing anxiety. Breath hitching, teeth still slightly bared, Polly knew his nephew could snap at any moment. She knew he was like a jerrican of gasoline, whose slightest spark could turn into a destructive wildfire, “Arthur, please. She needs you lucid,” She paused and gently tightened her hands around his arm, “She just needs you.”

Arthur closed his eyes for a few seconds and inhaled. The gulp of fresh air managed to set his ideas straight — or was it simply because your well-being was more significant than anything else in the world? When he reopened his lids, he gathered all his strength to remain in control of his wild spirit. Another growl escaped from his lips.

“Where is she ?” These were the only words he could utter. Polly took a quick glance at Tommy and sighed. The whole family knew that Arthur, as stubborn as a dog refusing to give its stick, would not let it go. He would remain deaf to any of their explanations as long as he was not informed where his angel was.

“I’ve brought her to your house. I’ve helped her clean the blood from her skin. She was curled up in your bed when I left. See? She’s at home, safe and sound.”

“Hm.” He mumbled with his jaw clenched, right before starting to pace back and forth in the room like a caged lion under Tommy’s undisrupted eyes. The latter cleared his voice to get everyone’s attention.

“I want to know what happened in every detail. Michael?” Tommy’s voice was collected. So controlled and cold his breath almost turned the whole room into a castle of ice and frost. Michael shook his head. The latest events were still stuck on replay in his troubled mind: the sensation of Hughes's skin against his hands made him nauseous each time he thought about it. Even though he took the life of the monster who had robbed him of his innocence, the threatening shadow of the priest still floated above him, waiting for Michael to fall asleep to fill his nightmare with unspeakable and excruciating memories. Hughes was gone, but the wounds were still there, vey much opened. He lowered his head, unable to bear the weight of the family’s eyes staring at him.

“I’ve killed Hughes,” He started his left hand nervously scratching the back of his right one until his skin turned red, “I wanted to grab Charles and bring him home but he was not in there. That’s when I heard a kid screaming and a big thud. When I entered the other room Heaven was—“ He stopped, for he felt the burn of the ravaging fire that was blazing in Arthur’s eyes. The unspoken threat was clear enough for him to understand: he better be careful with the next words that were about to come from his mouth if he did not want the beast to tear him apart.

“She was?” Tommy’s authoritative and slightly impatient tone captured his attention again.

“She was covered with blood, Charles in her arms. She had killed the man who wanted to hurt your son by stabbing him with a pair of scissors. If Heaven had not been there, Hughes’ colleague would have shot me and Charlie down. I saw a gun a few inches from the corpse.”

No one dared to speak now that the facts had been spit, leaving no doubt on your implication in the whole mission. Tommy brought his hands to his face and rubbed it in an attempt to process all the information he had just learned. A part of him could not believe it: how could you so easily kill a man who was almost twice your height and weight? After all, you were such a frail and small creature he had trouble imagining you going feral and butchering someone with the sole strength of your tiny hands. Yet, he knew about the dead you left on your trail when you left France. Five men, his informants told him. Five men were found dead in the forest surrounding the village. The authorities who had reported the crime called it “inhumane”. When Tommy read the case file, his jaw almost dropped at the description of the bodies — these men had not only been murdered, they had been hunted down like animals. While he first doubt the veracity of the reports, today’s events made him realize they were not exaggerated. You were dangerous. As dangerous as unpredictable. And Tommy hated what he could not predict nor control.

“Heaven… killed him?” Arthur asked, thus breaking the silence. He had frozen, turned to an ice statue by Michael’s words. He could not believe it either. How could you, his sweet and holy angel, do such a thing? He swallowed, left utterly speechless and confused.

“She did!” Michael insisted when he saw the doubt on Arthur’s face. Then, he turned to Tommy once again, “I’d be fucking dead if she hadn’t been there. And Charles too.”

Tommy let out a loud sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to kill his dawning headache.

“There was so much blood on her Tommy.”

So much blood, Arthur thought. His mind drifted away from the conversation as he tried to recreate the scene in his head. He imagined you, entering the office bathed in the pale moonlight, crimson ink bringing a frightening touch of color to your snow-white hair and skin. It felt surreal — and exciting.

“I’ve told you she was a fucking curse but no one listened to me. What am I supposed to do for people to fucking listen to me eh? Hear me Arthur?” Tommy’s chilling gaze looked upon his oldest brother.

“You know what? Fuck you, Tom. I’m done.” Arthur’s gruff voice was underlined with an unexpected and astounding calm. He had reached his breaking point, “What are ye gonna do now, eh? Wait, lemme guess. You’re gonna come at me and stand with your bossy demeanor, telling me I need to leave me angel because she’s some kind of psychotic freak to you. Then you’re gonna pat my back and tell me to forget her and that I’ll find a better woman. Maybe buy me a whore. Yes, that sounds like Tommy Shelby.” Arthur shook his head, a sarcastic chuckle coming from his lips, “You tried to make me suspect her, eh. Can't fucking believe it.” He chuckled again, far more nervously this time. “Wanna pull everyone down in your fall, that's what you want. If you can’t be happy no one around you shall be, right?“

“You don’t seem to realize what she did. And she told me to keep an eye on my son. Everyone would have suspected her.” Tommy retorted, blizzard coating his words.

“But she saved him.” Everyone turned to Polly, whose remark caused Thomas Shelby to grit his teeth. The unpleasant truth felt like nails scratching a board. Except the board was his own bones and the nails his Aunt’s words.

“She risked her own life to save your son even though you had insulted her.”

“Polly, I do like her. But I understand Tommy. She killed someone. You get it? This is not a trivial way to resolve a problem.” Ada intervened, her fingers tapping the varnished wood of the table.

“That’s what we always do, Ada. That’s what I did too.” Polly spoke with indisputable sorrow in her voice, “Whether you like it or not this company’s license is written in blood, and its foundations are made with dead bodies. We are all standing on an empire of silent hearts and maimed flesh.” A fresh nightly breeze went through the open window, caressing Polly’s face and making her short curly hair dance in the wind. The power of her soliloquy tamed Ada’s fierce spirit, “Arthur and John have been killing for this family for years. I murdered Campbell. Regarding Michael — Michael put Hughes down. And you, Tommy, when did you lose count of the men you put to sleep?”

“Fucking right.” Arthur mumbled.

Thomas looked at his aunt with a neutral face, the only detail that betrayed him was the spark of interest shining in his piercing blue eyes.

“Think ‘bout it Tommy. She foresaw Charles’ abduction. And when her powers reached her limits, she had not been afraid to dive her own hands in shit to help us. Don’t you think she has proven her loyalty to this family?”

“She isn’t loyal to us, she is to Arthur.” He corrected.

“It makes little to no difference,” Arthur responded, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, then.” Tommy cut them all off, clapping his hands to close the debate. He had heard enough, “Since we all have different opinions about Arthur’s angel — the sarcasm in his voice was undeniable — we’re going to vote. Arthur?”

“A vote? ‘Bout me bloody life decisions? Go to Hell, Tom!” He roared in response, driven crazy by the fact you were all alone at home, aching and terrified, and that he was not here for you, “She’s the woman I’ll marry. The other half of my soul. You can go all fook off if you don’t accept her in the family.”

“Predictable. Ada?”

“I don’t know. She had been quite extreme and Finn is scared of her. “

“Gonna take this for a negative answer along with Finn’s opinion. I already know Esme’s thoughts on the topic so there are three people opposed to her joining this family and one rooting for it. John?”

John remained silent for a while, his sky-blue eyes staring at Tommy with palpable irritation, “How can you all even discuss the topic? She has done more to take care of Arthur than anyone here in this room.” He walked to his oldest brother and put one hand on his shoulder as a sign of support, “I like her, and she deserves a place in this fucking family, even though she'll soon understand she ain't the curse but this family name is.”

“Michael?” Tommy went on, unmoved.

“I did not really care until now. Don’t really trust the girl but she saved me so… “

“I’ll take that as a yes. And Polly?”

“I know I haven’t been easy with her but it was because I could not sense her intentions. I was afraid she would bring evil forces upon us but she has the gift of healing. My grandmother used to have it, you know, and it runs only through the veins of exceptionally gifted witches. She could be useful, you know. We could benefits from her powers. And tonight…” She took a deep breath, “She saved my son.” The way to a mother’s heart often was her children, and Polly Gray was no exception.

“Three against four. Seems like this whole debate is over, Tom. Now I think I’ve been patient enough with your bullshit. Stop wasting my time while my place is beside her.” Arthur took one last look at his family, fury blazing in his eyes, and left the house, making the whole building shake when he slammed the door close.

“Heaven!”

When Arthur stormed into your bedroom, he was welcomed with the sight of your quivering silhouette standing in front of the window and hugging itself. It felt like a stab in his heart as he was reminded that you had to face the latest events all alone. Worst than this, one of the last things he had expressed to you was a slight doubt about your involvement in Charles’ kidnapping. He had not only been absent, he had also been awful, and God knew how ashamed it made him feel.

“Are you okay?” It did not take more than one second for Arthur to rush toward you and cup your face between his large hands, “Fookin’ hell, angel I’m so so sorry!”

You did not reply but instead stared at his guilty blue eyes with an unfathomable expression on your face. Your silence convinced him you were mad at him.

“They told me what happened and — “

Arthur could not finish his sentence, for your small and cold fists grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in a ferocious kiss. Your lips crashed against his like a rogue wave breaking on the shore and destroying everything in his path.

You pulled away from the kiss, leaving his mouth hanging a few inches from yours.

Arthur, running out of breath, did not move except for his steel blue eyes that looked down at your body. You were wearing nothing but his white shirt adorned with stripes. The garment covered you down your thighs for it was far too large for your tiny being. “Christ,” He whispered to himself, struck by how the vision of you wearing his shirt as only clothes turned him on. His whiskey breath melted with yours, almost intoxicating you in the process as if you had drunk the whole bottle by yourself. But it was not alcohol that was making your head spin, but the instant relief the eldest Shelby gave you by his sole presence. Arthur’s tongue grazed your swollen lips with its tip, desperately hungry for more. He had been waiting to come back to you for countless hours, your face haunting his mind even when he had sent men to Hell in one big explosion. “Kiss me again, please.” He said in a soft but slightly impatient voice. He needed you to kiss him again. He needed to feel you did not hate him for doubting, nor for not having been there to protect you.

But you did not bless him with a second kiss despite the undeniable supplications in his fair eyes and the caress his feverish sighs left on your skin. You stood still, your irises firmly anchored in his for what seemed to be an eternity. Your lips remained sealed but one crystal tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey. I’m here, love. I'm so sorry for everything you had to do…” Arthur said softly when he noticed you were crying.

No reply came from your tantalizing mouth. You kept staring at him, battling against the flood of emotions that was invading you now that your mind slowly but surely came to realize what happened last night. The blood — there had been so much blood.

“Heaven, talk to me.” He pressed one of his hands on your cheek, the cold silver of his rings alleviating your panic. And then it happened. You snapped out of your torpor all of a sudden and pushed him onto the bed. Arthur’s body fell on the soft mattress, leaving him both speechless and surprised by such unexpected reaction. Eyes wide opened, lips parted, he wondered what would you do such a thing. Did you — reject him?

“I need to forget this awful night.” Your voice was merely a whisper, but the power your words held shook him to his very soul. It was not anger nor resentment that coated your tone but lust. Without shifting your eyes from him, you brought your hands to the large shirt you were wearing and undid the first button, “I have to get it out of my goddamn head.” The way your French accent melted on your words like butter got him all fuzzy and weak.

“You sure, love?” He asked still surprised, taking a deep inhale through his nostrils.

“You have to erase it from my mind.” Your sentence broke up his core.

Arthur bit the flesh of his lower lip in anticipation as he understood what you wanted from him. Somehow, he got it: the blood, the adrenaline, the thrill of the kill… You had to find a way to release the tension. That was what he did with you in the shower last time he bashed someone’s head with his bare fists. Not only he got it, but he was ready to be your cure. His pale irises devoured your silhouette, desire burning within as you started to strip in front of him. You popped the second button with your frail fingers — and he flickered like a candle flame. Arthur’s fists closed on the bedsheet as frustration grew stronger at your languorous movements… And yet, that was the most exquisite form of torture he had ever experienced. He grunted, almost like an animal. If he had genuinely enjoyed the sight of you wearing his shirt, all he wanted now was to tear that bloody thing off you and exposed your naked body for him to see. When you finally popped the last button, a shiver of desire ran down his spine as if someone had just brushed him with the sharp tip of a knife.

The shirt was now open, showcasing more of your appetizing porcelain flesh. With one languid gesture, you let it fall on the floor and disclosed your whole being to Arthur’s starving eyes. The way the pale light of the sun coming through the window’s blinds drew patterns on your silky skin captivated him.

“Oh fuck — love,” His gruff voice said, carried away with a moan. The sensual sight made his whole body react, to the point he was now feeling far too tight in his trousers, and that was getting uncomfortable. Usually, he would not have waited so long for touching you, but today he could not help but admire your wildness. Petrified by a far too eery arousal, Arthur had the impression invisible ropes were wrapped around his body and pinned him to the mattress. He could not move and barely breathe. All he was able to do was to watch you with complete fascination. What stirred such a dizzying and strong effect was not only your angelic beauty, but also the dangerous energy that was radiating off you. This, combined with the few dried blood stains that were still adorning your skin from here and there left him feral. You stepped towards the bed, your hips swinging to the rhythm of your graceful walk. Arthur, hypnotized, swallowed the lump in his throat, his mouth dry and his heart racing in his chest. You hopped on the mattress and straddled him. How could such a tiny creature like you hold so much power? He thought. Hell, he could have broken your frail bones so easily with his own hands but here you were, riding him. You. The sweet angel he had met at church.

But you had a twisted something.

And it made him fall even harder.

A twisted something Linda never had nor understood.

Arthur inhaled sharply and growled, realizing you had literally taken his breath away.

“I want you. ” You said with teary eyes.

“So what are you waiting for, love?” His words managed to reach his mouth despite the awe you instilled in him. As he said so, your hands boldly began to explore his chest. The friction of your palms and his shirt’s fabric against his skin unleashed a wave of warmth within. Arthur shivered and watched you, still enraptured, while he let you take control of him. To hell with Tommy’s doubts and the family’s fear, you could pull his strings he would not mind as long as you belonged to him. After you had opened his shirt and exposed his chest, scattered with millions of freckles you often liked to kiss, your fingers made their way down his boiling skin and left frost in their wake. Another gruff moan — you were giving him fever.

Once you reached his waist, you took his suspenders off and threw them somewhere in the bedroom. Arthur replied to your boldness by grabbing your hips with his large and calloused hands — scarred from murder — and by giving them a bruising squeeze. That simple touch, combined with the feeling of his hard shaft pressing between your legs, sent surges of electricity through your entire being.

“Let your man take care of you, eh,” The gravel in his voice made your cheeks burn. He wiped your golden tears with his thumb— as beautiful as they were, he just hated to see them on your pretty face. Somehow, Arthur was well aware he was a high-maintenance man and he could not thank you enough for everything you were doing for him. How many times Linda had told him he wasn’t worth her help? He wasn’t worth saving? He had lost count after a while, but you never did. Unable to wait any longer for your bodies to unite, he then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, those noises bringing goosebumps all over your skin, “there, love.” He softly uttered before pulling his pants down just enough to free his erection. You moved your hips in response, guiding his cock between your wet folds without further ado. Welcomed by your wet warmth, he let out a long sigh of pure delight. Nothing could have prepared him to the all-consuming, almost suffocating desire you stirred in him. Sometimes he wondered if you had cast a spell on him, for no other woman had such an irresistible effect upon him. Each time you touched him, even for the simplest and most innocent interaction, desire and love hit him like a bullet.

“Arthur…” You sighed, as he started to roll his hips under you and push against your entrance with the glistening head of his cock. It was too much for him to wait anymore: all he wanted now was to dive into your flesh and conquer the wild territory of your soul. You gritted your teeth, almost hissing with excitation at the hurricane of sensations that was tearing you apart. You could not wait either, because he was the one who could fill the void. That excruciating and gaping void, as painful as a sucking wound, that had first opened a few years ago when you killed these five men. Oh, don’t get it wrong, they deserved it as much as the priest, but it had left you empty since then— so empty it hurt. But Arthur found you one night, and everything changed. You were his savior, but he was your cure.

“Look at me, Heaven. “ He said, his tone candy-coated with tenderness, for you had lowered your gaze ashamed of your tears. You obeyed and dared to look, your aquamarine eyes shining like precious stones. “The first night you saw me killed a man you told me I was pretty with blood all over my face. I could not fookin’ believe it,” He left his sentence hanging and pushed inside you, his thick cock stretching your walls. You moaned, throwing your head back and closing your eyes at the delightful mix of pain and pleasure.

“Arthur!” You whined, a louder lament escaping from your quivering lips, “I— I remember… ” You managed to answer between two sighs. Speaking became a real struggle as he worked you open, causing heat to pool in your abdomen and blood to rush to your pale cheeks. Arthur gave another thrust, and another, until your hips met and every last inch of his cock was buried deep inside you. Fire spread within his soul and yours when you finally made one — like you were meant to be. “Arthur!“ You repeated in a desperate cry, glistening love juice dripping from your pussy as he started with a quick pace from the get-go. You took a sudden deep breath and opened your eyes wide as if you had suddenly come back to life — because that was the kind of effect he had on you: he made you feel alive. With each push and pull of his cock, he fogged your mind and let you forget all the bad memories.

“F-Fuck!“ Sucking in a sharp breath, he shattered at the way you chanted his name. Head spinning, heart drumming, Arthur could not help but enjoy your beauty — How magnificent you were with your back arching and blissed out. “Well, I see you right now, and lemme tell you…” He panted, forced to make short pauses between his words to let out hoarse growls of pleasure, “You don’t look pretty,” He straightened back up to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped your waist with his long arms while his hips kept fucking you in a rough pace. The corner of his lips curled in a fierce grin now that he could watch the emotions on your face from far closer, “You look divine with blood stains all over you and my dick deep inside that tight holy pussy of yours.” His words, carried by the gravel of his voice, chased away the sorrow and brought a smile to your swollen lips. As a reply, you kissed him with hunger. Dancing tongues left him breathless, “And now I’m gonna fuck away the pain and fill you with something else than sadness…” He whispered against your mouth before abandoning it only to lay a myriad of enamored kisses on your throat. The way his mustache tickled your skin only strengthened the coiling tension that had formed a knot in your stomach. “Tonight, I’m the one who saves you, angel.”

His thrusts grew faster and rougher as he spoke. To the point you were now bouncing on his lap, the sound of snapping flesh echoing in the whole bedroom alongside your erratic breath, his hoarse moans, and your enchanting cries of pleasure. You felt full and he did his best to keep you so. In fact, he barely pulled his hips back — rather wanting to remain as deep as he could in your oh-so tight pussy, “You’re a good girl, yes you are. The prettiest little murderous thing ever created eh. The fookin’ perfection …” He purred in your neck, and each of his praises made your very soul quiver. His pace soon became frenzied, for he could barely contain himself at the delightful feeling of your fragile walls pulsing all around his cock and the way you almost growled like an animal when he left small bites on your skin. Pleasure was escalating, rattling your bones so violently your nails dug into the freckled skin of his back. Little crimson drops of blood beaded from the kitten scratches your nails left in their wake. The pleasant pain caused him to give you one meaner thrust in response along with a snarl — Fuck, he liked it. His cock twitched inside you, feeling climax building. Clenching his jaws, Arthur reopened his eyes he had closed a few seconds, backed up a little bit from your neck, and stared at you. Yes, he wanted to watch you. His steel blue eyes burnt with a gleam of madness and blazing love, “You’re so fookin’ beautiful eh. Me little angel. Me future wife.” The spectacle of you bouncing on his lap, covered with a thin layer of sweat glistening on your porcelain skin, and your wild ivory mane all messed up was the most magnificent view he had ever seen. Arthur dived one last time inside of you, all the muscles of his body tensing, and he fell apart. He spilled himself in your pussy with a long raspy moan, his half-closed eyes staring at you during his whole orgasm.

“Please don’t stop, don’t stop!” You yelled.

“Such a hungry little angel, eh. Yell louder.” He teased, still high from his little death. His hips jerked, and he released another rope of thick cum, “Come for your Arthur.”

The sensation of his warm semen filling you was the end of you. Your pleasure finally reached its peak as well. Your thighs trembled on either side of Arthur as his hips slowly roll to accompany your climax. Almost blacking out because of the intensity of your orgasm, you let out one final scream and collapsed in his arms, your body limp. Arthur’s hands gently stroked your back. You hugged him tighter in reply, your breasts crushed against his chest, and stars still dancing behind your eyelids. Locked up in a tight embrace, you were both catching your breath and savoring this moment of pure tenderness. How long did you stay here, firmly gripping each other, sweaty and panting, as if your life depended on it? None of you could tell, for you had both lost the notion of time. After a while, Arthur’s back fell on the mattress again and he pulled you with him. You put your head on his chest, closed your eyes, and smiled.

“Feels better, love?” He inquired, concerned about your well-being. His long fingers grazed your back in a lovely caress. Despite you having both come, Arthur stayed deep inside you for he just loved the sensation of your two bodies making one in the most intimate way possible.

“Definitely… “ You sighed in relief, lulled by his presence under, around, and inside you.

“You know, “ He started, “Maybe you would feel even better if you talked to me about that troubled past of yours. We’ve been together for a while so you know I won’t judge, eh.”

You crossed your arms on his chest and raised your head a little to plunge your eyes into his, “Nosey little gangster.”

“Little? Fook me, yer the little one here.” He teased, one brow raised, “You tiny brat.”

You stuck your tongue out as a reply, which made him laugh. Yeah, you were definitely the brattiest angel God ever created.

“I’ll let you keep my shirt if ya tell me. Sounds like a deal, eh?”

“Deal. You’ve won.” You replied, "I like your shirt too much to say no," Truth be told, what motivated you was not really the shirt itself but the fact you were done bearing the weight of your past all alone. In addition, Arthur had always been completely sincere with you from the day you met. He had been true about his demons, his fear, his flaws. About everything. You definitely owed him the truth, “ Alright… I was living a happy little life in the French Alps when Hughes came.” Your smile vanished from your face at the simple mention of his name, as if you had bitten into a pill of cyanide, “He replaced the town’s priest for a few months. We thought it wouldn’t make much difference but we were wrong. No one saw it coming you know? His words were so smooth that almost everyone was hanging onto his sermons. He was the one who spread the rumors witches were hidden among us. And weeks after weeks, the whole town slipped into insanity. Superstition and fear drove them all to accuse friends, family, or neighbors of concerting with the Devil.” You paused and swallowed the lump in your throat.

Arthur gently slipped one of your ivory strands of hair behind your ear, listening to you carefully.

“Five men came into our home one night, and they assaulted my mom, my dad, and my little sister who was sleeping in their bed. It’s true my mom was a witch, but she used her power to heal the ill and the wounded. No one knew the extent of her abilities, they just believed she was a brilliant herbalist… I was in my own bedroom when it happened so the noise woke me up. I wanted to help them but what could a thirteen years old girl could do against all those strong men?” You bit your lip.

“Take your time, love.” Arthur’s fingers lose themselves in your hair in a tender sign of affection and support.

“I escaped by my bedroom’s windows and hid in a bush. They were looking for me, calling me awful names and… Laughing. Yeah, they laughed as if they were having a fucking hunting party, except I was the bloody prey.” You clenched your jaw and frowned, hatred burning in your sanctified eyes, “They took my family away. I followed them discreetly, in hopes of helping them to escape. But I couldn't.” Fighting against your tears, you buried your face in Arthur’s neck. His arms tightened around your frail body in response. He wanted you to know he was there, “They’ve hung my dad. And they sent many women including, my mom and my sister, to the pyre. She was eight. She was just a fucking kid, Arthur.”

“Bloody hell…” Words were at loss at such awful revelations. He hugged you tighter in a reflex, his instincts wanting to protect that poor frightened little girl who was still crying somewhere in your mind. The little girl who never had a chance to heal.

“I still hear her screams at night. So full of agony that it was hard to believe they came from a human being. Her screams haunt me, along with villagers' chants around the bonfires,"

"Their chants?"

"Burn witch, burn witch, burn." You whispered, shaking like a leaf.

“How did you manage to escape?” His gruff and comforting voice asked. You snuggled a bit more in his arms in response.

“I knew the woods by heart. I walked for days to the village that was at the foot of the mountains and knocked on the first door I saw. An old woman used to live there. She took care of me. But as I grew up, I could not heal from that terrifying night. My mind kept replaying the screams, the laughter, and the chants, to the point it almost drove me crazy. I had to do something to soothe the anger that was burning within. So I waited and waited until the time to avenge my family came. I tracked down the five men that broke into our house and took my family. I hunted them like animals for weeks, instilling fear in them, as they did when they were looking for me. And when they finally died, I left France and tried to build a new life here, in Birmingham. Regarding the rest of the story, I think you already know it. I fell for a gangster and here I am. In your arms.”

“Which is exactly where you belong” He corrected. One of Arthur's hand grabbed your chin and gently forced you to look at him, “I am so sorry, love. So fookin’ sorry. But don’t feel bad for the men you killed… They deserved it — just like Hughes and his colleague. An eye of an eye,” His lips kissed your head with indescribable sweetness, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again eh. God forgive but I’ll make this city fucking bleed if someone dares to lay a finger upon you ever again,” His other hand stroke the curve of your hips, “I know no one will replace nor bring back your family. But… You have me,” He said awkwardly. As he did, he very lightly rolled his hips under you, causing you to sigh with pleasure for you had kept him warm and loved between your legs during the whole conversation. “You have me for-fucking-ever. And I’ll do my best to heal the pain and save you from your demons.”

You smiled at him, utterly touched by what he had just said. His promise was like a soothing balm on the gaping wound of your heart, “Am I not the one supposed to save you? ”

“We save each other, love.” He whispered, his lips collapsing with yours in a kiss filled with unspoken promises and undying love.

“I love you.” You mumbled between two eager kisses, barely finishing your sentence when Arthur’s lips captured yours again.

“Not as much as I do, love” He mumbled against the corner of your mouth, his mustache grazing your cheek when he did, because he refused to stop devouring your lips even for one second. The whisky taste of his tongue intoxicated you, making you so dizzy you did not understand how he flipped you on your back. Nor how you ended up gently pinned to the bed, the weight of his body on top of you. But it did not matter. All that mattered was the moment. The soft moans and sloppy kisses. The creaking bed and the endless sighs. You made love again— but this time it was more slow and sensual than earlier.

And late at night, when you finally fell asleep in his loving arms, you did not hear the screams anymore. Nor the evil laughter lurking in the shadows. Quite the contrary, you dozed off with a smile on your face and shooting stars filling your head, lulled by the soothing rhythm of Arthur’s heartbeat. His fire was the only one you would let consume you skin to bones.

He was the gasoline.

You were the match.

And if you both burnt,

The whole world would burn with you.

✞ gif by the talented @alicent-targaryen

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Normally, each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone but not this one. It's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

Tag: @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybridrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife

[sillyrabbit81]

So with today being 4th of July, I've been thinking about those people and animals who don't enjoy fireworks displays. I wonder whether or not Sy likes fireworks. I would imagine he doesn't, like many others who have experienced combat. If you have an opportunity, could you write something about that-- maybe about how his S.O. helps him manage being anywhere near fireworks? Thank you!

Hi @my-muse-compels-me

Thanks for the request, I know it’s really short but I’m not American and really don’t know much about what happens on Independence Day. I kind of treated it like Australia Day and assumed similar things happen. Since it was time of year specific I wanted to try and get it done quickly. I guess what I’m saying is I tried and I hope I didn’t disappoint!

Summary: Sy doesn’t like fireworks, but can he work on that for the sake of his family?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count approx. 600

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some angst, mention of war and mental illness, Dad!Syverson

Authors note: @amberangel112, thanks for the Beta, side-kick ❤️

Masterlist

Fourth of July

Fourth of July celebrations were tough on Sy. He loved the daytime activities, the barbeques, the time with friends and family, but the nights were tough. He hated the fireworks. The noise was the problem, the rapid booms just made him anxious.

Overall, he coped well with his time as a soldier on active duty. He didn’t develop PTSD, he very rarely had nightmares, he says he was one of the lucky ones. Of course, there were nights when he would wake up and reach for you, needing the comfort of his woman to remind him he was safe. But he seemed to need it no more than any other man who sometimes just needed to be held in the arms of his woman, to lay his head between her breasts and be soothed by her gentle feminine embrace.

Fireworks, however, was something he could never seem to be ok with. Each 4th of July you would dutifully take the kids out to the local fairground to watch the display. Sy would stay home with the dogs, watching movies to drown out the sound.

But this year your daughter wanted her Daddy to come along, nagging at you to get Sy to go, her little mind not able to understand why he might not want to go.

“Why won’t he come, I want Daddy, or I won’t go,” she finally said. She was five and at that age where she thought of her Daddy as the perfect man, the one who all future men in her life would have to measure up to. Sy of course was wrapped around her little finger, one little quiver of her chin would send him into full protector mode, even when the perpetrators were her older brothers, no body messed with his Pumpkin. So, she made her stand and refused to go, Sy reluctantly agreed he would come along this year. He couldn’t say no to his Pumpkin.

You and Sy talked about how best to deal with the event, and you tried to figure out what made him anxious exactly. He admitted it was the noise that was the trigger, so you bought some wax earplug to help with that, but they wouldn’t stop all the noise. You assured him that you would be there, you would hold his hand and despite not wanting to admit he needed that, he thanked you.

When the time came for the fireworks, Sy started to get anxious. You held Pumpkin on your hip and brought Sy’s arms around both of you. You could feel his breathing rate increase and become shallow, so you placed his hand flat on your belly and got him to breathe with you. He smiled at you and just as the first explosion happened, he flinched. You held his hand tight too your stomach, and loud enough to be heard over the noise and his earplugs, you reminded him that he was home and safe and with his family.

Sy focussed on Pumpkin’s face, her joy and amazement, her squeals and how she bounced around in your arms with joy. He saw you start to struggle with her, she was almost at a size where you wouldn’t be able to pick her up like that any longer. Sy surprised you but taking her out of your hands and holding her himself with one arm, pulling you in close with the other. You could see he was still anxious, but he got through it. When the fireworks finally stopped, you kissed his cheek and told him you loved him. Even as you were leaving, you could see he was still a little shook up, he even asked you to drive home and was a bit quieter than usual in the car.

Later that night when the kids were in bed, he thanked you for helping him through the evening. I told him he should thank Pumpkin. He grinned and agreed and said he was lucky to have the two most wonderful girls in his life to help give him strength when he needed it.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[ladyloveandjustice]

The ending to the Dear Brother anime is, weirdly, more heteronormative than the manga???

Like, you think it would be the opposite since one was 20 years after the other but nope.

First of all, I knew this was a class S originator, none of the queer relationships would work out in the end and there was going to be that subtext that “this stuff is okay in high school but you’re going to conform to your expected gender role and meet a man in the end”, but I was a little shocked that the anime came out and SAID IT.

Fukiko pissing all over her sister’s grave. wow. and just to hammer it in, they have Rei’s phantom come up and confirm,: yes, none of my feelings were legitimate because they weren’t for a man, also you will someday also find a man to love.

and then Nanako’s mother also tells her she hasn’t truly loved because she hasn’t been with a man too.

These lines actually aren’t in the manga! The anime went out of it’s way to add this!

Another thing that isn’t in the manga is Kaoru going from never ever wearing skirts to wearing skirts the second she gets married. This is what she wears in the manga:

She’s more feminine and that’s a Choice, but she’s wearing pants still, on what may well be her wedding day, whereas in the anime it’s like, now that’s i’m married to a man it’s gotta be in a wedding dress and even in the airport I’m in a skirt:

(also her outfit is much nicer and suits her more in the manga, just saying).

But that’s kind of small compared to the literal last line of the anime reassuring everyone that yes, now that Nanako is older she has also found a man as is appropriate, as is real, like her mother said!

(last minute addition- I was looking at some stuff, and saw someone say Nanako doesn’t specify a gender in the original language. I can’t confirm, but listening she doesn’t actually say ‘man’ here, so it’s probable. Still, considering the rest of the episode, and the fact she compares this person to her brother, I think the audience is SUPPOSED to think it’s a man- but it’s nice, at least, that there’s some wiggle room to interpret it otherwise-perhaps that was purposeful, perhaps not.)

whereas the manga says nothing about Nanako’s future romantic prospects, nor does anyone say or imply Nanako’s feelings for Rei weren’t real. Rather, the last line is just BTW KAORU’S DEAD which is pretty awkward I’ll admit

I’m glad Kaoru gets to live in the anime, on the other hand, this addition makes it clear the manga just loves tragedy for everyone, not just girl/girl couples, which feels more even-handed.

The upside of the anime compared to the manga is that it’s a lot less heavily implied Mariko will end up with dude-that-makes-her-skin-crawl. They pretty much completely forget about that at the end of the anime, so Mariko is spared! Hurray! Whereas in the manga, it’s much more heavily implied she’s going to end up with him (also he sucks a lot more in general. The dudes suck a lot more in the manga than the anime, so thanks to the anime for improving on that.) with Nanako even saying “she’s gonna marry him soon I’m so sure!”

But.

In the manga there’s no lines that slap you in the face and say “IF YOU LOVE A GIRL YOU HAVEN’T EXPERIENCED REAL LOVE” like in the anime. Almost every relationship ends in tragedy and only the straight relationships are implied to have a chance to be consummated, but it doesn’t feel as repeatedly belittling of these girls romantic attractions to each other as the anime suddenly is at the last minute. And the last episode IS a huge 180, because up until then, Mariko, Nanako, Rei -and even Fukiko’s horrible fucked up feelings- WERE treated like ‘real love”. But the last episode seems to try to cram in as many “BTW IT’S ONLY LOVE IF IT’S A WOMAN WITH A MAN” psas as possible, when the manga didn’t feel the need.

 I wonder if it was to cover their butts because they thought they might get heat about it or something if they didn’t, or was it simply Riyoko Ikeda didn’t feel the need to backpedal as much on her character’s feelings in the 1970s as a guy directing an anime in 1990′s did? If so, what does that say?

Overall, I like the anime better than the manga- the characters have room the breathe, everything is more developed, it’s not just a string of sad things happening- but they sure made a Choice with that last episode. They really did.

[hyperblue]

you know what, actually have batfamily & co as song from midnights because i LOVE to mesh my obsessions together at any given time

lavender haze — tim timmy timmy boy, with pretty much any of his love interests, although since the song itself is purple coded it mostly feels like timsteph or timtam to me

talk your talk and go viral // i just need this love spiral // get it off your chest // get it off my desk

maroon — the sultryness and the eerie feeling of it makes me think about damian a little beat, so imma say damijon? kind of dark, angsty damijon (they initially feel very angsty to me btw, idk why. like they are either early 2000s romcom funny or just straight up fucked up in a way that is not exactly "right person wrong time" but more like "right person fucking wrong literally everything else")

when the silence came, we // were shaking blind and hazy // how the hell did we lose sight of us again? // sobbing with your head in your hands // ain't that the way shit always ends?

maroon also has a strong dick feeling to it tho

anti-hero — tim's song through and through as i said, especially in his red robin era. i could actually write a whole ass essay that's how strongly i feel about it

i have this thing where i get older, but just never wiser // midnights become my afternoons // when my depression works the graveyard shift, all of the people // i've ghosted stand there in the room

and also

i wake up screaming from dreaming // one day, i'll watch as you're leaving // and life will lose all its meaning // for the last time

like hello??

snow on the beach — timkon & damijon from tim's and damian's perspective

life is emotionally abusive // and time can't stop me quite like you did // and my flight was awful, thanks for asking // i'm unglued, thanks to you

literally obsessed

but your eyes are flying saucers from another planet // now i'm all for you like Janet // can this be a real thing? can it?

you're on your own, kid — look. we all know yoyok is kon's song. look me in the eyes and try to tell me it's not a kon el song i won't listen. might as well argue with the wall. the way those lyrics carry so much loneliness but also so much hope at the same time. the way this songs feels like the most heartbreaking thing you've ever experienced in your life but still manages to also feel like a hug and a pat on the back from a big brother/sister? c'mon

'cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned // everything you lose is a step you take // so make the friendship bracelets // take the moment and taste it // you've got no reason to be afraid

you're on your own, kid // yeah, you can face this // you're on your own, kid // you always have been

midnight rain — the more i listen to it the more it feels like birdflash, even though i'm not the big dick/wally shipper but i like the whole concept of them being best buddies who took a shot at trying to be something more than friends but it just didn't work out in a long run. and they are both pretty much okay with this now but sometimes they can't help but wonder if one thing had been different would everything be different?? if you know you know

'cause he was sunshine, i was midnight rain // he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain // he wanted a bride, i was making my own name // chasing that fame, he stayed the same // all of me changed like midnight

question...? — timkon & damijon once again. what can i say, midnights very tim and damian coded. though i feel like this one could be more of a kon's and jon's perspective

can i ask you a question? did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room // and every single one of your friends was making fun of you // but fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? // then what did you do?

vigilante shit — selina & jason. it's bruce bashing o'clock my dudes

draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man // you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them // sometimes i wonder which one will be your last lie // they say looks can kill and i might try

i don't dress for women // i don't dress for men // lately i've been dressing for revenge

bejeweled — dick grayson & stephanie brown. sorry i will not elaborate on this one. this is dick grayson and stephanie brown

sapphire tears on my face // sadness became my whole sky // but some guy said my aura's moonstone // just 'cause he was high

and we're dancin' all night // and you can try to change my mind // but you might have to wait in line // what's a girl gonna do // a diamond's gotta shine

labyrinth — having hard time with this one actually. either dick or tim i guess, the whole "oh no, i'm falling in love again" narrative seems to feet them the most (i love the way they both love people around them so deeply, to the point where it sometimes becomes painful. like i GET it. you know)

you know how much i hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back // just like that

karma — just batsiblings in general (mostly dick tho i would say)

sweet nothings — timkon & damijon & birdflash. honestly i don't even want to explain, the song speaks for itself in a much better way than i ever could

'cause they said the end is coming // everyone's up to something // i find myself running home to your sweet nothings // outside, they're push and shoving // you're in the kitchen humming // all that you ever wanted from me was nothing

industry disruptors and soul deconstructors // and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other // and the voices that implore, "you should be doing more" // to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it

mastermind — top timkon song and top tim drake song fr, i could write essays. with this beautiful plot twist at the end of the song... like it's just them my guys. and the bridge has the most tim-coded lyrics i've ever seen

no one wanted to play with me as a little kid // so i've been scheming like a criminal ever since // to make them love me and make it seem effortless // this is the first time i've felt the need to confess

and i swear // i'm only cryptic and machiavellian 'cause i care

"you're on your own kid" kon-el/"anti-hero" tim drake can be something so personal actually

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! < This is Part 19!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song Here- (X)

Big thanks to @imdoingathingmom​ and @bbibbisan​ for doing a sensitivity read! 

* This could be worse, you remind yourself as you feed your deer

* Much, much worse

* “How much am I supposed to give them?” The tall, ebony colored man says from beside you, his bright red eyes seem to glow under the pale moonlight

* “Um.. for that one, you can feed it as much kale as you want, but be careful James, he’s kinda insatiable. He’ll eat your clothes if you give him the chance”

* James nods, tearing the kale in careful ribbons.

* He smiles when the deer eats right out of his palm.

* You’re not going to lie, you were 100% surprised when the blond turned out to be Laurent and the black guy was James

* You were even more surprised when he asked if he could help you feed your animals

* You watch him smile as he gives the deer a gentle pat, feeding it more kale

* Yeah, you’re having a hard time believing the teddy bear in front of you is some psychopath tracker

* The story went that while you and Edward were out, the coven decided to play some baseball up in the mountains, and the sound caught their attention as they were passing through

* Apparently this was a fast friends situation, because Carlisle and Laurent have been reminiscing about their geezer pre-colonialism days

* You look to the house, you can see Edward’s inside from the window, his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small smile

* Well that seems hopeful

* “I used to take animals before I turned” James’s deep voice calls you back to the situation at hand

* “Oh were you a farm hand?” You’re peeling an orange, which Henrietta the third is already licking at impatiently

* “Um, not quite, I was a slave”

* You stop peeling the orange

* James tells you his story- he was a third generation slave, fathered from the master, his mother passed away shortly after his birth

* “I was lucky- in a sense, the master -my father- he was a superstitious man, and my mother- she had a reputation”

* His mother was a slave in name only, was what he told you. She was more of a mistress or a concubine.

* “At least that’s what they said, Though I’m not sure how much of that is true, I’m fairly certain she didn’t enjoy being with him. She was just trying to survive”

* His mother had been ostracized, even amongst others like them, but not because of her social position in the household

* “They thought she was a witch,” he admitted. “Bad things happened to people who wronged her, and good things happened to those who helped her”

* That sounds like Alec and Jane

* “When she was on her death bed, she laid a “curse” on the owner of the plantation, that if I wasn’t taken care of she would haunt him and bring misfortune on the entire family for several generations”

* And so, James became the unfavorable third son of the Pickett family.

* “I had many opportunities from her sacrifice, I learned to read and write, but I was more or less shunned from the house- both by my family and by the other slaves”

* It was lonely, almost painful.

* “But there was one thing, a ray of light-“ his eyes flit towards the window, and you follow his gaze to the red haired woman in the green chair

* “Victoria, she was my eldest brothers fiancé”

* The youngest daughter of the wealthiest man in town, from the outside she was a blossoming socialite

* The most beautiful girl in town

* But behind closed doors...

* Victoria was the product of an affair, a mistresses child, reluctantly brought into the household when her mother passed

* “She had big dreams, she loved to read, she yearned to study, to educate herself, to use her mind”

* And so, two lost souls found each other

* “Our family would never have allowed it. So we decided to run away together” he smiles, but it’s bitter.

* They claimed he had abducted her, perhaps to save face, and sent slave catchers to find them.

* “I’m not quite sure what happened-I remember being shot and telling Victoria to go in without me- all I ever wanted was for her to be happy.”

* This is heartbreaking

* “When I woke up, Laurent was there, and my throat burned”

* So Laurent had been with them for all that time, he was their creator

* “Afterwards the three of us worked in ‘the underground railroad’ helping slaves to the north where they could be free”

* “I’m thankful to him, for saving us, we wouldn’t have been able to be in a world where we could be together if it weren’t for him-“

* “But you wonder what the trade off is” you finish and he nods

* No longer human

* Purpose only lasts so long in this life, after all human life only has meaning because you know one day it will end

* “I found a penchant for tracking, it turns out what they said about my mother might have held some truth”

* James calls it “extreme luck”, there’s no other word for his gift.

* If he’s looking for something - or someone- it’ll inevitably find him through pure luck. Like the world bends to his will

* But it only works with finding things

* “These days we work as bounty hunters, and we only feed from people beyond redemption”

* Murder and rapists it sounds like

* “I didn’t know there was another way”

* “That’s understandable, I didn’t know either until I met Carlisle” he looks at you with kind eyes, and so with a deep breath you tell him your story

* About the Volturi, your parents, Alec and Jane-

* “I think you would like them, they’re a little off putting at first, but they warm up pretty fast”

* “Like cats” he says

* “Like cats” you agree

* You tell him about meeting Carlisle, how he saved you,

* how Eleazer gave you a home and a family,

* and about Edward, who gave you a chance to live

* Not just to survive, but to truly live

* “We’re not so different you and I” James says with a smile, and you mirror his expression

* “No we aren’t”

* Though of course you wouldn’t compare the relatively privileged life you had to his

* But the loneliness you both experienced is not all that different

* The tie that binds you all

* And then you do something you’ve never done before

* “You know, I don’t belong to this coven, not really” it’s the first time you’ve admitted it to anyone

* “Oh?”

* “My coven is in Denali, they have a permanent settlement there, and they follow the er... same alternative lifestyle”

* He laughs

* “I’m sure they would love two or three more, we’ve got like thirteen spare rooms in that house”

* You still remember the antiquated scooby Doo mansion-esque hallways filled with armor and swords

* He looks at you for a long time, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable

* “I won’t follow another leader”

* You nod, that’s understandable.

* Laurent created them, and it seems he’s happy with their current lifestyle, they won’t betray him

* “Not unless it’s you”

* ........

* What?!?!

* “M-me?” You sputter, your orange peel filled hand clutching your chest

* “Why would you want to follow me? I’m only nineteen years old- I don’t even have a high school degree yet!”

* He laughs at your panicked expression

* “You know that doesn’t matter to our kind,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at you.

* “Call it witchcraft if you like, but you’re going to accomplish great things, I can feel it deep in my bones”

* Garrett had said the same thing, but the way James says it-

* You really believe it.

* He doesn’t want anything from you you, not a kiss or a date-

* He just wants to be your friend, to be apart of your vision

* Whatever it may be

* “Here’s my card-“

* He holds out his business card to you, unlike Garett’s it’s a cheap cardboard white with his profession and number on the front

* “If you ever find yourself in need of someone to help with your animals, let me know”

* You nod, taking his card in your hands

* “Um there’s one more thing I could use your help with-“

* He points to the large window, right at Alice

* “I know that girl but she doesn’t seem to know me.”

* “Well how does that work”

* He tells you how many years ago, a woman was looking for her sister.

* “It was a bit of a Cinderella story”

* The woman’s father had remarried quickly after his wife’s death, and the step mother had sent his children away. The younger sibling, his client, was lucky and was sent to a relative.

* But the older, who had suspected something amiss had happened to her mother, was sent to a mental asylum

* “You know me, I find things, it’s my gift.”

* But when he found the girl, she was no longer human. Already turned.

* “I tried to approach her, but she didn’t seem to remember anything”

* “Alice doesn’t have any of her memories from before she turned, she woke up in the woods all alone”

* The only thing guiding her were her visions.

* James nods solemnly

* “Should I...should I tell her?”

* You look to Alice.

* She’s smiling at something Victoria said.

* How many nights has she spent wondering who she really was, feeling so happy she had a family and a partner, but wondering if she left someone behind

* How would she feel when she found out?

* “I think you should tell her.”

* If it was you, even if it hurt, you would want to know

* James nods

* “Okay”

* You walk inside together, and immediately look to Edward

* Your own personal vampire lie detector

* “He did lie about one thing-“ Edward tells you once James pulls Alice aside.

* Was he actually tracking Alice to hunt her?

* Your heart drops at the thought

* “His mother didn’t die from natural causes, she committed suicide because she knew it would secure his future” Edward tells you with a somber expression.

* “He just didn’t want you to feel bad”

* You smile and nod.

* What a strong person, you can’t even imagine

* Edward pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss in your hair

* You feel bitter sweet about the whole thing

* Especially as you watch them leave in the morning, right before you’re going to head off to school

* Jasper is holding Alice who seems vulnerable, but relieved

* They’re leaving so soon, you didn’t even get a chance to get to talk to Victoria or Laurent

* You watch James stand next to Victoria, they’re talking to Carlisle.

* They’re not even touching, but you can feel the intimacy radiate off of them

* You wonder if maybe you and Edward might get to be that close one day

* James meets your gaze and smiles

* “I’ll see you around sometime leader!” He calls out, earning confused looks from your coven and his

* You smile back and give him a nod

* You’re still not sure what your future holds

* But you know you wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for the kindness of others

* You want to make them proud

* And then in a gust of wind, he’s gone

* They all are

* “See, I didn’t commit murder or anything, I told you things were different” Edward says with a teasing smile

* You roll your eyes and lightly shove him while he just laughs

* He’s right though, that was different

* “Enough flirting kids, you’re going to be late for school, and I really don’t want to deal with that dick in the front office acting all high and mighty because they think I can’t control my children” Esme yells

* School?

* Oh sh*t you didn’t do your homework

* “Edward-“

* “I’ll drive and tell you the answers on the way there” he says catching the keys you toss to him

* “It’s the-“

* “The Trig homework, I know. It’s your worst subject”

* Well you do struggle with trig quite a bit

* “Though to be fair you’re pretty terrible at all of them”

* He barks laughing when you shove him before getting into the car through the passenger side

* Carlisle and Esme watch you from the doorstep

* “They’re so good together-“ Esme starts

* “I know, I never thought our Edward would look at anyone like that”

* Carlisle and Esme exchange a look

* Before you came around-

* Well it wasn’t bad, but he certainly didn’t look like that.

* And he never smiled like that either

* Immortality had hardened him, made him into a man

* But with you-

* Well, with you he looks just like a boy

* A boy in love for the first time

* “I wonder what kind of children they might have had” Esme wonders with a small grin

* Him, with his ability to read minds, and you with that positively monstrous power of yours

* Any number of possibilities is possible

* “Best not to think of such things” Carlisle murmurs

* Though you two may be together for eternity, with the endless options, you’ll never have that.

* Esme nods

* “I’m late to get to the hospital, surgery this morning” he mumbles kissing her on the cheek before walking to the car

* She watches him go, his sleek white Volvo disappearing down the road before looking up to the sky

* “What a shame, I would have liked a cute grandchild or two running around” she mumbles to herself before turning to go inside

* “Entertaining always leaves me exhausted, guess I’ll give my employees the day off”

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