#and when i write one fic it usually means my other inspo follows behind

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Chapter I: The Detective

Notes: I have decided that I am going to rewrite my Mafia AU with (hopefully) better quality overall (plot, exposition, character development, angst, slowburn, etc). If not for the sake of better quality - then let’s just say it’s for my own entertainment and I’ll select a different name for this AU. I am still working on ‘Remember Me’ and ‘The Cafe’ which are also 2 AUs I have in the works in addition to the dozens of one-shots and fic requests I also am working on - this AU just came to my mind and it’s flowing really well so I’m writing it now. I’ll put the rest of my rambling in the tags. 

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy Donovan)

Word Count: 2111 (Aiming for 4000+ words per chapter after this one)

Tags: @samanthadalton @cloud9in @shows-simp-card @alleycat97 @veenast @maskedalienfreak (If you’d like to be added/removed please let me know - also specify if you’d only like to be tagged for this series or all my work etc etc.)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Graphic Concepts, Death (Please be cautious - the theme is pretty dark and some of these chapters will be graphic so if you feel hesitant at all feel free to skip those chapters - I’ll try to make the story flow even if you do skip them :) )

“Stay with me, don’t leave me please god no please...Ashton...no…” Amy sobbed as she held her dying brother in her arms, his blood spilling onto her white blouse as she held his head close to her heart. She desperately placed a hand over the bullet wound in his chest as tears rolled down her face. Her heart broke with every small gasp that left his paled lips, she cupped his face in an urgent attempt to meet his eyes one last time as she said goodbye to her best friend. “Damn it...you...I love you..I love you okay? I’ve always loved you...god I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry…I...I’m going to avenge you...I swear I will..” She rocked back and forth with his corpse in her arms as the distant sound of police sirens grew nearer and nearer. 

“Amy...promise...promise…” Ashton gasped as his body grew colder by the second as blood spurted from his mouth, “promise you’ll live your life for me…” His low voice faded into a whisper and then to silence as police cars pulled up to the heartbreaking scene. Several FBI agents stepped out of their vehicles, most of them moving around the site and keeping their distance from Amy, only one of them stepping towards her as she spoke in a soft whisper. 

“I...I promise...Ashton…” 

The soft footsteps of the agent stopped behind her as she let out a long shaky breath, her arms gently lowering her brother’s corpse onto the pavement. 

“Marco...I...I have to avenge him.” Amy stood with confidence, her sadness replaced by a burning fury that was unparalleled to any anger she had ever felt in her life. Her bloody hands curled into tight fists as she reached for her gun, glocking it and placing it into her messy hidden holster. 

“Amy...just...breathe...maybe it’s better for someone else to take this one. We don’t want you to get hurt or to make any rash decisions-” Marco placed his hands in the air as Amy furiously turned to him, her brown eyes burning right through him as she stepped towards him. 

“My brother was just killed..no...brutally murdered by the Mafia and you’re telling me I can’t take the case so that I may avenge my brother? You think that I can’t handle this line of work Marco?” Amy’s voice was calm despite her posture, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she let her shoulders relax. “I can assure you, if anyone should take this case, it should be me. I’m young but I’m experienced - I come from a long line of FBI agents and you damn well know I can handle myself in a fight.” 

“Well, it’s not my decision to make but I’m sure we can talk to Otto about it. He likes you and he knows you’re effective - I don’t doubt that he’ll let you handle this case...and that’s why I suggested for you not to take it but I suppose you’re also our best agent for the job…” Marco lowered his voice as Amy sighed with a soft chuckle, her soft eyes meeting his before she began walking towards the black jeep. 

“Marco, if you thought I was a driven investigator when it’s not personal...you have no idea what I am capable of when it is personal…” Amy popped the jeep door open and started the engine as Marco frowned through the driver’s window. They exchanged a silent nod of agreement as Amy sped off towards their headquarters while Marco turned back to the bloody scene, letting out a soft whisper as he regained his composure. 

“...that’s what I’m afraid of Donovan…” 

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

Amy parked the jeep in her executive parking space with a screech, as her heavy footsteps rang through the empty garage. She sighed to herself as she approached HQ, making sure her gun had its safety on and that she looked somewhat composed despite her blood stained clothes and obviously puffy eyes. She pushed the doors open as everyone turned to her, their faces stricken with shock and fear as she strided towards Otto’s office. 

“Otto.” She threw the door open as a sturdy old man looked up from his disorganized desk, his gaze shifting from shock to empathetic as Amy leaned over with both her hands resting on the desk.

“Donovan I know what you’re going to ask and the case is yours.” Otto met her gaze as Amy let out a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders slump as she seated herself across from the man. 

“Thank god, I thought I was going to have to threaten you or something. Do you have the files for me?” 

“They’ve already been sent to your office, along with proper equipment, your team debriefing, and a generous amount of funding - so you better be the woman for the job.” 

“Perfect, you’re always a step ahead of me when it comes to these types of things Otto.”

“That’s the only way we’d survive Amy. Now, onto more important matters, are you alright darlin? That...when Maria heard the gunshots and the screaming...and then the crying...we...we all knew what was happening. If you need a few days, or even a week or longer before you start...just let us know...no need to jump right to it if you need the time to grieve.” Otto leaned back in his leather chair, his hands gently placed over Amy’s as he scrunched his nose in an attempt to shift his glasses up. 

“I appreciate it Otto, but if I’m going to be effective, it’s going to be best to start working now while the tracks are fresh. Can I get Mituso to run diagnostics on any fingerprints on that gun? I doubt we need an autopsy but I don’t mind letting Ashton’s body be studied for a few days before the funeral.”

“Alright Donovan, if you say you’re fine then I believe you. Yes I can get Mistuso to run an Autopsy, why don’t you head to your office to clean yourself up and then debrief. If we get any information we’ll email it to you and let you know, meanwhile if you come to any conclusions on your own about the case, well, you know how to handle it.”

“I’ll see myself out then, thank you Otto.” 

Amy softly shut his office door before striding to the elevators and hitting the ‘up’ button. A tall man approached her from behind and placed a firm hand on her shoulders as the elevator dinged upon arrival. She slowly stepped through the doors, her hand hitting the button for the eighth floor as she rested her head on the wall. Once the elevator doors opened she made her way towards her private bathroom, allowing herself to undress and change into a similar outfit, except the blouse, pants, shoes and everything else was black. She sized herself up in the mirror, satisfied in her appearance before she made her way towards her office. The doors opened after she scanned her photo ID and tears rolled down her face as she met the eyes of the man slumped at her desk. 

“Jackson...I…” Amy hurried to hug him, knowing it was as hard on him as it was on her. 

“Ames...did...did he suffer? Tell me he didn’t suffer…” Jackson’s eyes dripped with tears as Amy held him close. 

“I...if he did...I...just don’t think about it Jackson…” 

“I loved him. We were all like family, I...god Amy I was going to propose to him and now I’ll never get the chance…” 

“Jackson...I’m...I...I’m sorry…” 

Tears streamed down their faces as they stood there together, the sound of their sniffles and sobs filling the office before they pulled apart. 

“Otto doesn’t usually let someone from my department work in cases like this but...he let me petition and I’m in your squad.” 

“Jackson...can...okay…” 

“I can handle it Amy. If you’re allowed to work on this case...then I think I should be able to work on it too.” 

“Fair point. We need to start now though, despite our grief we’re going to get the best leads while it’s fresh. I want these bastards to pay for what they did with blood.” Amy slammed her fist into the table as Jackson slid her a hefty stack of beige files. 

“I assume these are the leads we have right now?” 

“Yes, although there’s not as many as there appears to be. We know who killed him, and we know who he works for but the issue is...well...I’ll let you have a look for yourself. I’m going to go talk to Otto about upgrading my rifles, I’m going to need more than a sniper rifle for this case.” 

“Alright, call me if you need me later Jackson. I’ll be here all night looking over all of this.”

“Yeah. See you Amy.”

“Jackson?”

“Stay safe out there okay? You’re the last person I’ve got now…”

“You too Amy, I’ll rendezvous with you tomorrow.”

The door clicked shut as Amy rested her head in her hands. She winced softly as all of her physical injuries caught up to her, her legs growing sore from all the chasing, her arms sore from the hand to hand combat, the cuts and bruises on her torso and head finally coming to light as she felt a wave of exhaustion overtake her. 

“There ain’t no rest for the wicked.” Amy mumbled to herself as she pulled out her coffee maker and brewed herself a generous portion of coffee. As she finished pouring the coffee, she caught sight of the frame resting on her desk - with a photo of her with her family at the beach. She shortly found herself breaking down after, as she held the frame in her chest, her whole body shaking with anger, sadness, fear and shock as she reminisced on when her family wasn’t all dead. “I...how can I do this…? No...I have to do this...or I have to die trying…” 

Amy shakily brought herself to her feet, gently placing the photo back onto her desk as she sipped on her coffee and began scanning the files. There was no question about the assailant, or his employer - it was the level of difficulty that was the issue. Killing a lower level hitman in the mafia was no fuss for the FBI - those targets were messy and unimportant to the mafia, so there was no major backfire after those eliminations. Amy opened the four files that laid on her desk, taking in the four faces that rested within each. 

Antonio Santiago

Marksman - Hitman (Level 8) 

Description: Male; Strong build with broad shoulders; Brown hair - usually shaggy or slicked back; Right handed; Tends to dress in black and white with a leather jacket; Light Brown eyes

Age: 26

Height: 5’11 

Warnings: Typically carries two handguns, a concealed knife, peppery spray, taser and has assault rifles hidden within his vehicles

Total Assassinations: 27 

Amy picked up his photo, taking in the face of her brother’s murderer - his description was pretty generic but after taking in the photo Amy knew she’d be able to recognize his nose on the spot. 

“It’s crooked, oooh when I get my hands on you Antonio - I’m going to punch you in the nose so fucking hard it’ll be straight. I’ll make sure of it.” Amy calmed herself down, knowing she’d lose her leads if she lost control and didn’t plan accordingly. She closed his file and pushed it aside as she reached for the other person file, waiting to read over the two previous incident cases later. 

Kamilah Sayeed

Primary Mafia Arms Dealer and Top Assassin

Description: Female; Lean and Muscular build; Medium length brown hair - either in a ponytail or worn down; Brown eyes; Ambidextrous; Tends to dress in a black or maroon suit with heels

Age: 30

Height: 6’0

Warnings: Carries two concealed handguns at all times; Usually accompanied by two or more discrete bodyguards; UNSAFE TO ENGAGE ALONE; Very skilled in hand to hand combat; Seductive and Flirtatious; Ruthless and Merciless

Total Assassinations: 288 

Amy gazed at the woman’s image, captivated by the depth of her eyes as she narrowed her sight. The woman was beautiful, but deadly and Amy knew that. 

“It’s always the pretty ones that are psycho…” Amy laughed lightly as she folded the file and collapsed into her chair. She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her desk as she slowly drifted off to sleep. 

[just-call-me-angel]

Do You Want Fries With That?

Warning(s): degradation, slut shaming, Brian is icky and i want him in my bed, fingering, AFAB! Reader, Unsafe sex, party, underage drinking, smoking (cigarettes), let me know if there's warning I missed and I'll add it <3

Author's Note: My brother's in Christ thank you so much for your patience with me, I think I've finally gotten my writing inspo back which is poggers (Of course the first fic I post in a bit is a Brian Willcox fic because I have terrible taste in men)

Summary:  “You afraid you’ll actually like fucking someone as disgusting as me?” Bingo. Bullseye. Checkmate. Winner winner chicken fucking dinner.

Ao3

“Oh my god (Y/N) you should totally go flirt with him.” 

You tilt your head at Jessie, brows furrowed as you follow her line of sight to the greasy dark-haired boy standing at the counter—you recognize him from school, not by name of course, but you’d seen him in the halls or in his car smoking and skipping class. 

You frown, nose scrunching as you look back at Jessie, “Why would I do that?”

“Because it would be funny duh” she responds with a giggle, shoving her unfinished drink to the side. 

Maddy nudges your side,"I bet if you showed him a little bit of cleavage he'd cream his pants–" 

"Guys I don't know–" 

Kirsten rolls her eyes, "Come on, don't be such a fucking stick in the mud its just a little bit of harmless fun." 

You bite your cheek, fidgeting with the end of your skirt as you glance again at the boy behind the counter. He’s not bad looking in your opinion—but he’s not exactly the type of guy you’d usually go for. 

Still you can’t help but appreciate his looks a bit—he’s tall and lanky, nearly 6 feet tall if the height difference between him and his coworker is anything to go by. His black hair comes down to his shoulders and you get the feeling that he doesn’t really do much to take care of it—-and you hate that he pulls the look off so easily. 

Usually he’d be wearing all black so it’s a little jarring to see him in the bright yellow Mickey’s uniform—but he’s still got a long sleeved black shirt under it and his usual black leather bracelets buckled around his wrists. His pants are baggy around his waist, barely kept up by his fraying belt and you can just barely see the long chain hanging against one leg. 

If you’re completely honest he’s actually more your type than the guys you usually went out with—-you don’t admit that to your friends of course. 

“Come on (Y/N) you’d be doing him a favor— he isn’t exactly a chick magnet” Maddy chirps, brushing your hair behind your ear a bit. 

Jessie leans over the table, “Come on don’t be a prude—”  

You pout, “I’m not being a prude—”

“Sure had us fooled—” Kirsten teases, giving you a pointed look, “We’re not even asking you to go fuck the guy.”

The girls look at you expectantly and you instantly feel powerless, biting your cheek and averting your gaze as you shift to the edge of the booth, “Sorry I was being stupid—you guys are totally right it’s not even a big deal.” you force a giggle, smiling as you get up from the table.

Jessie smacks your ass and winks as you pass, “Remember to show a little cleavage—”

You weren’t a mean girl—-or at least you liked to think so—but you hang out with mean girls. In fact, that's what the majority of your friend group consists of—mean, bitchy, popular girls who found joy in putting others down and the asshole jocks they liked to screw around with.

And you blindly follow them—-at this point it’s hard to even make excuses for yourself. It was social suicide to stand up to them and as much as you hated the way they treated people, you also weren’t willing to give up the social status you had gained from them—who were you to complain when they had basically taken you under their wing when you moved to town in your freshmen year.

Really you were no better than them—so maybe you were a mean girl.

You were certainly on track to making that a proven fact as you made your way towards the counter to do as your friends had instructed. It's just a little bit of harmless fun––just flirt and embarrass him a little and be done with it.

The boy, whose name you still couldn't remember, had his back turned so he didn't notice you at first. His coworker—possibly another classmate—glances at you, brows furrowed for a moment before he gestures for the black-haired boy to look in your direction. He turns to you grumbling something about how much he hated his job, and for a moment you consider turning back. 

He stares dumbly at you, brows furrowing as he speaks in a very flat and bored tone, “Welcome to Mickey’s I’m Brian how can I help you.” 

Brian––you do vaguely remember hearing that name being tossed around—it seems so very fitting for him, though you can’t say you could possibly imagine another name for him.

You glance back at your friends—Maddy gives you a thumbs up, Jessie winks at you making a gesture like she’s encouraging you to show off your tits a bit more—Kirsten holds your gaze for a few seconds like she’s daring you to turn back. 

Fuck it—it was just a little harmless fun–-so what if that made you a mean girl. 

You turn to look at Brian again, giving him your best smile, honey-sweet and flirty as you lean forward, palms flat against the counter, chest on full display for Brian (and his coworker) to see. He seems almost completely unfazed, glancing at you with a look somewhere between boredom and annoyance.

He hardly even looks down at your chest, green eyes flitting down for the briefest of moments. Most men spent a good majority of their interactions with you just staring at your chest—especially after you hit puberty—god you still remember the exact moment boys started to look at you differently. So having a boy suddenly ignore you like this was—odd to say the very least. 

His eyes are a little slower in the way they drag back up from your chest to meet your eyes once more, still bored as ever as you lean in a little more, biting your lower lip in the way that always seemed to drive guys mad, “We go to school together don’t we?” 

He stares at you for what feels like ages and then shrugs, offering you nothing more than a grunt. You take it in stride, though it does throw you off a bit the way he doesn’t seem at all affected by your advances. Men were usually so simple, so easy to crack, a few flirty glances and they all fell to their knees in an instant.  Brian at his core is like any other man, just show him a little skin and he’ll crumble like all the rest. 

You giggle despite him having not said a word—it only seems to annoy him more as he rolls his eyes at you and sighs heavily, "Can I help you?"

You bob your head to the side, and smile thoughtfully, “Maybe—ya know I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you before, you’re kinda cute.” 

"Listen I’m gonna stop you right there, I know your type and im not interested" 

You blink at him, laughing awkwardly, "I don't know what you mean by that Brian."

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and huffing, "You think that just because you're a pretty girl that you can do whatever you want and get away with it—"

You stammer, face going red as you try to deny his accusation, but he talks over you.

"Let me guess, your friends dared you to come over here and put on a little show for me—see if I'd embarrass myself for your entertainment? You must be really fucking full of yourself if you think I wouldn't see right through your little nice girl act—"

"I—I wasn't—that's not why—"

He doesn't seem at all interested in hearing your excuses and honestly you don't even know what to say. 

"Listen Princess, I'm sure you're used to every other loser you fuck with giving you what you want and you probably think you're doing them some kind of favor but I'm not fucking interested, so either order or get fucking lost." 

You bite down on your bottom lip, swallowing a whimper as you blink back tears and Brian stares at you with disdain, the hint of a smirk on his lips as his coworker snickers behind him. You glance back at your friends and they’re all laughing at you—Kirsten in particular looks especially pleased by this turn of events as she points and giggles.

It shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does that their cruelty has been turned towards you—that’s just how they are sometimes. They only wanted someone to laugh at so they could feel like they were above it all—it didn’t matter that it was you they were throwing under the bus—you just needed to learn to take a fucking joke.

You don’t even fault them for it anymore and come tomorrow this would be a thing of the past and you would go back to following them blindly. But for now you have to focus on not crying in front of them all—especially Brian. 

“So what’s it gonna be Princess? Are you gonna order something or do you want me to keep embarrassing you in front of your friends?” He sneers, crossing his arms as you finally look at him,  “Or are you one of those girls that get off on being humiliated?” 

No—absolutely fucking not—you weren’t enjoying this—

He bobs his head to one side and lets his eyes drag over your body—it’s different from the way boys usually look at you—and it definitely should not make you feel hot between your thighs. His eyes drag back up to meet yours and you shiver, biting down a quiet choked gasp.

After a minute of struggling to think of a response all you can manage is a weak, “Fuck you—”

He chuckles darkly, tongue jutting out to wet his lips as he smirks at you, “You want fries with that?”

Your bottom lip trembles and you bite your cheek to keep from crying as you curl your fists at your side and turn on your heels, refusing to look Brian in the eyes as you rush back to your table. Your friends are still laughing, barely trying to muffle their excitement at your humiliation as you grab your bag off of the seat next to Maddy.

“(Y/N) babes, where are you going?” Maddy chirps, just barely hiding her giggle behind her hand. 

“I’m going home—”

Kirsten rolls her eyes, tapping her long nails on the table and sneering at you, “Oh don’t be so dramatic hun it’s not that big of a deal.” 

You shake your head, swallowing the urge to start crying as you try to maintain your dignity, “No it’s not this I just remembered I still haven’t finished that paper for History and I want to make sure I have it done before that party this weekend.” 

Jessie huffs on the other side of Kirsten, “Oh shit would you do mine? I totally suck at that History crap–”

“Yeah sure—just tell me what your topic was and I’ll get it done before Friday” 

“Awesome! Thanks babes you’re a total lifesaver!” Jessie giggles, “No hard feelings about tonight right?” 

Kirsten gives you a look, brow raised as you look down at your feet sheepishly and laugh nervously, “Yea–yea no hard feelings, it's not even a big deal or anything—I’ll see you tomorrow okay.” 

You don’t even let them finish their goodbyes before you turn tail and head for the exit, heels clicking loudly as you rush to your car. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you close your car door behind you and settle into the front seat. You don’t even know what’s more distressing— the humiliation— or the fact that you actually kind of liked Brian humiliating you. 

You blink away the tears starting to spill down your cheeks and stare through the windshield until you see Brian watching you from inside the restaurant with a smug little smile, green eyes staring right through you like he knew exactly how he was making you feel.

You had never in your life broken so many traffic laws to get home as fast as possible—ignoring the questioning look your father gave you from the living room when you slammed the front door shut behind you. 

You wish you could say that night was the one and only time you went to bed after making yourself cum on your fingers thinking about Brian and the way he had humiliated you. But you couldn’t get him out of your head—it was like your interaction at Mickey’s had turned a dial in your brain and now you notice him everywhere. 

He was driving you fucking nuts and it wasn’t like you could talk to anyone about it—your friends would have a field day if they found out you had the hots for Brian of all people. So you kept it to yourself, hoping the feelings would just go away—-God, you hadn’t felt like this since you first hit puberty. 

It didn’t help that he seemed to know exactly how he was affecting you, always giving you the same smirk whenever he caught you staring at him in the halls at school or while he was smoking by his car. 

Brian isn’t a guy you should get involved with—he was the kind of guy who fucked you like he hated you—-and he had made it abundantly clear that he hated you. Plus it was social suicide to be seen with a guy like him.

Maybe there was something wrong with you because you couldn’t seem to help yourself—you start seeking him out—-you try to convince yourself that it’s just to prove a point—it’s complete bullshit—you wanted him to humiliate you again.

The bell at the front door of Mickey’s jingles and your heels click on the tiled floor as you step into the restaurant. You glance around, pleased to find that there aren’t many people around—at least not anyone you went to school with. 

Brian was once again turned away from you, leaning back against the counter and chatting with the same coworker from last time—his name still escapes you and as horrible as that makes you feel, you can’t really bring yourself to care too much as you stand on the other side of the counter waiting patiently for them to notice you. 

His coworker glances at you clearly both confused and amused that you had returned—you don’t miss the way his eyes drag down your body before he speaks, “Brian you’ve got a customer.” 

Brian groans, stretching his arms out above his head before he turns to face you, he raises a brow at you when he recognizes you, “Look who decided to come back,” he looks past you as if searching the rows of booths and tables for your usual friend group.

You offer him your sweetest smile,” I came alone,” you laugh nervously, “No dare this time I promise”

Somehow it’s almost more humiliating knowing your friends aren’t there with you—-at least then you had the excuse of stupid dare to fall back on—

“Why did you come back then?” He smirks, tilting his head down at you. 

Good fucking question.

You bow your head sheepishly, “I came to apologize—”

“Bullshit” 

You flinch, looking up at him with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me Princess.” He hums, eyes slowly dragging down your body, “I think you came back because you liked being humiliated—”

You stammer,“That’s not why—”

He leans against the counter and still towers over you, “You and I both know that’s bullshit.” 

All you can do is stare at him, blinking stupidly and struggling to speak.

He chuckles, pleased by your dumbstruck look, “I’ve got a break in 15 minutes if you wanna show me why you really came here.” 

“I came to apologize that’s all” you sound far less sure of yourself than you want to as you shake your head and anxiously watch him. 

He raises a brow, tongue swiping out for a split second to wet his lips as he smirks at you, “Come one don’t act all innocent now, I know you came here to get humiliated again—” 

You shake your head again, making yourself a bit dizzy, “That’s not—” 

He leans a little further forward his voice lowering, “You afraid you’ll actually like fucking someone as disgusting as me?” 

Bingo. Bullseye. Checkmate. Winner winner chicken fucking dinner. 

The whimper escapes your lips before you can even swallow it and you freeze instantly, hands trembling at your side as you fight to look away from Brian. He looks shocked for a split second, brows raised and cheeks slightly flushed before his lips curve up into a smug little grin. 

He chuckles darkly, “Well isn’t that cute—”

You can’t even bring yourself to speak—anything you say would probably only humiliate you further. You bite your lower lip and suck in a stuttered breath before turning on your heels, Brian’s laughter echoing behind you as you helplessly rush to your car—once again feeling far too hot between your thighs. 

You figured after your second time being humiliated by Brian that your thirst would be quenched and you could move on with your life—go back to screwing around with mediocre men and letting your friends walk all over you.  But your fixation only seemed to worsen the more you tried to deny it. 

Maddy’s boyfriend Hunter was hosting a big party tonight—that was your opportunity to forget all about Brian—or at least make a damned good attempt at forgetting. 

Except you weren’t exactly fond of the distractions being offered to you tonight. Maddy had been trying to set you up with her boyfriend’s best friend Max for nearly 2 months and you were beyond uninterested at this point. 

So you were adamantly avoiding him—slipping into the crowd of drunk teens and hiding whenever you saw him. You almost felt a little bad—Max wasn’t a bad guy—-though you honestly hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know him so you really couldn’t say that for sure. He was a jock who spent most of his time trying to bore you to death with football stats or trying not so slyly to get into your pants. 

Avoiding Max was made a little less annoying since he was easy to spot when he was twice your size and stood only an inch or two shorter than Brian. Still it was getting a bit tedious having to duck your head every time you saw him enter a room. You wanted to be able to enjoy the party—you’d dressed up in your cutest little slip dress that barely covered your ass—and you were barely getting to show it off because you were too fucking anxious to tell Maddy that you didn’t want to fuck Max.

You poke your head into the kitchen, sighing in relief when you don’t see Max in there waiting for you. You slip past a couple making out by the counter, swiping a red solo cup and pouring the first bottle you can reach into it—as long as it gets you tipsy you honestly don’t care how it tastes at this point.

At least you didn’t have to avoid Brian—he rarely came to these parties—you doubted he was even ever invited on the occasions that he did make an appearance. A part of you foolishly hoped that you would see him—-you weren’t doing a very good job of trying to forget him. 

You sip absently at your mystery drink, eyes darting over the crowd until you spot Jessie and Maddy making their way towards you, smiling and giggling drunkenly.  You do your best to look pleased to see them, raising your cup in silent greeting as they come stumbling into the kitchen.

“(Y/N)! Oh my god you bitch we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Jessie chirped, words slurring a bit towards the end.

Maddy giggles, leaning heavily against Jessie’s side, “Max has been looking for you too,”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at that, taking another sip of your drink as your eyes dart again over the crowd to make sure Max isn’t coming your way.

Maddy’s nose wrinkles at you and she scoffs, “Ya know you’re being a real bitch avoiding him all the time—” 

“I’m not being a bitch—”

“Yes you are—I don’t even know why I tried setting you guys up, you can’t even appreciate what I did for you”  

You sigh, tension already pulsing in your forehead, “I’m sorry. I just don’t really feel like myself right now—I promise I’m not avoiding him.” 

She squints at you, glancing at Jessie silently communicating with her before looking back at you again, “ Is this about that stupid thing at Mickeys?”

“What—” you sputter, nearly spitting out your drink, “No–it’s not—it’s not about that—I’m just stressed about school I guess I don’t know.” 

Jessie giggles, she's probably the happiest drunk you’ve ever met, “You just need some dick–” she hiccups and tugs on Maddy’s arm, “I wanna go dance”

You give a strained smile, laughing awkwardly, “Maybe you’re right.” 

Maddy seems to have lost interest in scolding you, excited at the offer to dance, “Ooo! Good Idea—(Y/N) stop avoiding Max” 

“Will do—” 

She doesn’t even wait for your answer before she’s dragging Jessie back into the crowd, both of them swaying precariously. Just as you think that you’ve still got a minute to relax before you have to hide again, you spot Max standing near Jessie and Maddy, the two girls instantly pointing in your direction— God this was shaping up to be the worst game of Hide and Seek that you’d ever played. 

You duck your head as quick as you can, darting out of the room and into the hall to find a new place to hide. 

You glance behind you for a second before slipping into a dimly lit room. The door shuts behind you and you lock it with a click, resting your head against the frame with a sigh of relief–-peace at last.

A cough echoes behind you and you nearly drop your cup as you turn to look at whoever you had locked in the room with you. You see a cloud of smoke first, and then as it gets blown out the window you find yourself staring into a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Don't look so disappointed to see me Princess, you'll hurt my feelings" 

You really had the worst luck.

You blinked stupidly at Brian as he sits in front of the window, a nearly finished cigarette perched between his fingers. 

"What are you doing here?"

He snorts, tapping his finger against the cigarette and watching as the ashes fall, "I could ask you the same thing— aren't girls like you supposed to be the life of the party"

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, "I'm just taking a break"

He nods but doesn't seem at all convinced based on the little smirk he's got, "Your friends ditch you?" 

"No, they just–"

"Ya know I can be pretty good company when I want to be" he hums thoughtfully, putting the cigarette out against the window frame before tossing it carelessly out the window. He stands and even though you've got plenty of space between the two of you, you suddenly feel cornered. 

He takes a step towards you, tilting his head and smirking as his green eyes wander over your body, “I was sorta disappointed that you left so quickly last time we talked—but that little noise you made before you left made it worth it.” 

You whimper, biting your tongue and pressing your back against the door frame as he takes a few more steps closer to you,chuckling, “Who knew you were such a little freak—”

Brian crowds you against the door, one hand resting palm flat next to your head while the other reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, “What’s it gonna be princess—you gonna stop acting all innocent and let me fuck you—-or do you wanna go back out there and join your pathetic excuse for friends?” 

You scoff, doing your best to look as annoyed as possible despite the heat already pooling in your stomach, “Why would I–-Why would I fuck you?”

“Because you know I’ll fuck you in the way you need to be fucked,” he pauses, relishing in the way your breath stutters, “You want to be ruined don’t you princess—” 

“No I don’t—that’s disgusting—” 

At this point you aren’t even doing a good job of convincing yourself and Brian, like the asshole he is, looks all too smug about it. He drags one hand slowly down your arms until you can feel his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your dress. He hums in appreciation when he brushes over your panties, damp fabric telling him everything he needed to know. 

He leans in a little until you can feel his breath hot against your ear, “Then why are you so wet princess?” 

You whimper and he chuckles, pressing his thumb over your clit for a second before pulling his hand out from under your skirt. He tilts his head at you and rests his hand on your hip, stroking slow circles over the fabric of your dress, “You have a choice to make.” 

You should leave. You should slip out of his arms and go back out to the party. You’d probably have to deal with Max but maybe that was worth it. Or maybe Brian was right—and you hated him for that. More than anything you hated that you still wanted him. 

He’s giving you a way out—-a way to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine—-a way to maintain what's left of your dignity. And Brian is all too calm about the situation, shifting his leg between your thighs and smiling down at you like he isn’t giving you an impossible choice—-he doesn’t even seem worried that you’ll turn him down. 

Fuck him—fuck this party—fuck your friends—-fuck Max—-

Fuck it—

You don’t say a word, your hand curling into the front of his hoodie as you drag him down, crashing your lips into his before he can stop you. He seems genuinely surprised at first, eyes wide and cheeks flushed—and you almost think that you might have some power over him.

He lets you take control for all of 5 seconds before he presses you a little harder into the door, fingers digging into your hip as he kisses you with a bruising force. 

His lips are softer than you had expected—not that you would ever admit to ever imagining what they might feel like. And he tastes of cigarette smoke, shitty beer, and Mickey’s curly fries—it should disgust you—-more than anything it just makes you disgusted in yourself—and you love it.

You aren’t inexperienced by any means—and yet kissing Brian makes you feel like it's your first time all over again—-he’s rough and all consuming, dragging you impossibly close and leaving you dizzy. 

He moves his hand off of the door behind you, quickly cradling the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair. He tugs lightly at first, smirking into the kiss when you gasp and then tugs again a little harder until your mouth falls open in a pathetic little whine. 

“Needy little thing–,”he coos at you, kissing your jaw, “You just need someone to put you in your place don’t you princess?” 

He nips at the underside of your jaw, pressing the rough fabric of his pants against your clothed cunt until you respond with a whimper. You can feel him grin as he presses another kiss to your jaw, “You make such pretty little noises.” he praises, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so worked up—you’ve been imagining this haven’t you?” 

You try to shake your head, and he chuckles, “You don’t have to lie princess, we both know you’re just a pretty little whore who likes to get humiliated—otherwise you would have left already.” 

You really shouldn’t let him call you a whore—and you absolutely shouldn’t feel so turned on by it. 

“I’m not—” 

“Not what?” He raises a brow at you, “Not a whore?” You shake your head and he narrows his eyes at you, tugging your hair again until you let out a choked whine. 

“No—i’m not a whore—”

He tilts his head, “Then leave, because I’m not here to treat you nicely,” his fingers grip your hip harder, dragging you forward until his knee is once again pressed firmly against your cunt, “If you stay here I’ll show you exactly how much of a needy little whore you really are.” 

It’s not even a threat at this point, it's a promise. You don’t move an inch, still firmly pressed against the door despite him having loosened his hold on you slightly. He’s giving you another opportunity to leave and instead of taking it like you know you should—you roll your hips against his leg with a whine. 

Brian hums, “See that wasn’t so hard,” he pauses, tugging your hair and forcing you to tilt your head to look at him—His dark hair hangs over his face, just barely hiding the way his green eyes darken as he stares back at you, “You gonna let me ruin you?” 

It’s pathetic how quickly you submit to him with a quiet whimper, “Please—” 

He grins wolfishly, pushing you back against the door and grinding his knee between your thighs one more time before moving his hand from your hip back under your dress. He laughs when you let out an airy whine, cunt clenching around nothing as his fingers brush over your dampened panties, “Fuck—you’re soaked—you really need it bad don’t you baby—that why you were being so bratty before?” 

Your bottom lip trembles and you look away sheepishly as he drags his thumb over your clit with a low hum of approval against your collarbone. You bite your tongue, swallowing a moan as you arch into his hand, clinging to his hoodie with trembling hands. 

“You get this wet for all the jocks you spread your legs for”

You want to tell him that you actually haven’t even fucked that many guys—and most of them weren’t even jocks—but he makes it clear he isn’t actually looking for an answer as he works he shoves your panties to the side and runs his fingers over your slick cunt making you inhale sharply before can say a single word.

“I bet they all treat you like a little cumdump don’t they?” he hums, thumb grazing your clit again, “Dumb little thing like you probably begs them to fill you up, right?” 

You whimper, “No–-No—I don’t—I make them use condoms—” 

“Oh yea? Maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought—” He teased, fingers prodding at your entrance, “I’ll fix that though don’t you worry, I’ll remind you what a dumb little slut you are.” 

“I’m not—”

He clicks his tongue, and bites your shoulder, “Shut up—I don’t wanna hear shit from you unless you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

You fall silent in an instant, save for a choked whine as your cunt clenched around nothing. He drags the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders with his teeth and hums in approval when you move obediently to pull them off your arms, letting the top half of your dress bunch up around your waist. 

His eyes go wide for a second, pupils dilating as he stares at your exposed chest, “You really are a whore—-were you hoping to get some action tonight?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, letting go of your hair in favor of palming one of your breasts, a groan slipping past his lips when he pinches your nipple between his index finger and thumb. 

He drags his tongue down in a slick line between your breasts, chuckling lowly when you shiver, fingers trembling as you grasp his shoulders, “It’s real lucky I found you when I did,“ he groans as his other hand moving again between your thighs, middle finger slowly pressing into you as you let your head fall back against the door with an airy whine of his name. 

 “Holy shit—you’re fucking tight.” 

Your cunt tenses around his finger as he pulls back out and then pushes back in a little faster, this time slipping his middle and index finger in. It pulls the air right out of your lungs and you are reminded very suddenly that no other guy had ever actually finger fucked you—until now. 

Brian had been right about one thing—most guys you hooked up with were strict followers of the hit it and quit it rule and that usually meant they didn’t focus very hard on anything except getting their dicks inside of you. So foreplay wasn’t really something you were used to—unless of course it involved sucking a guy off. 

And now Brian—-of all the people in the world it had to be him—-was quite literally blowing your mind, curling his fingers in your cunt and dragging the most pathetic little noises out of you. 

Brian doesn’t even seem fazed, too busy latching onto your tits and fucking you on his fingers. It was like he didn’t even realize that he was shattering your world—or maybe he did notice and he just didn’t care.

“Jesus—look at you—” his voice is low, nearly a growl as he sucks a bruise onto your chest, “You like having my fingers inside you, don’t you princess?”

You nod, “Feels so—ah—fuck—good—”

A third finger slips into your tight heat and you choke on your words, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you toss your head back against the door. Brian hums, thumb circling your clit, “Shit—you act like you’ve never been fingered before—”

You bite your hand, looking away from him and that’s all the answer he needs as he stares up at you with a devilish smirk.

“Oh that’s just cute—“ he chuckles, jerking his wrist suddenly and driving his fingers a little deeper into your cunt, dragging a broken sob from your lips, “No wonder you’re such a needy little thing,” 

His pace quickens and with every curl of his fingers you could feel yourself being dragged closer and closer to the edge. You can barely think or speak or do anything except whine helplessly, trembling as you cling to his shoulders. Brian relishes in every little sound you make and every weak roll of your hips only seems to spur him on.

“You can’t cum til you beg for it princess,” he warns, pressing an openmouthed kiss to your jaw, “Even pretty little whores like you have to ask for permission.” 

He knows you're close—-so close you can practically taste it. You don’t even try to argue with him—You’re far too focused on the possibility of getting to cum that you can’t be bothered to fight him.

“Ple–please” 

“Aw I think you can do a little better than that princess.” he teases, the pad of his thumb circling your clit, making your cunt clench around his fingers. 

Distantly you consider telling him to fuck off—the words die on your tongue almost as quick as they came. He looks so smug, tilting his head to one side and smirking as you struggle to speak, words escaping you with every drag of his fingers.

“Please—-please Brian”

“I need it—please”

“Please—I’ll do anything—please—”

His hand stills between your thighs and you have to bite down a frustrated whimper as he grins at you, “Admit that you’re just another cockhungry whore and I’ll let you cum.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “I’m—”

“Go on princess, say it—say ‘I’m a cockhungry whore’” he hums.

“I’m a—I’m a cockhungry—whore.” 

“Atta girl” He groans, wasting little time driving his fingers back into your cunt, dragging you right back to the edge—it happens in the blink of an eye and your entire body shakes with the force of your orgasm. 

Brian is relentless—he drags your orgasm out until you can barely stand, thighs trembling as you cling desperately to him, choked little whines falling from your lips. He fucks you through every minute of it—-making it nearly impossible for your completely come down from the high. 

You fall limp against him, whining pathetically when he keeps toying with your clit and you can hear him laughing through the haze that follows your climax and all you can do is blink stupidly at him. He brings one arm around your waist to keep you steady while the other remains between your thighs. 

He coos at you sweetly “What’s the matter princess? That too much for you.” 

You nod blearily, “sensitive—” 

“We aren’t done yet princess” he hums, dragging his fingers roughly over your clit one more time, chuckling when you let out an airy gasp, “You want my cock don’t you?” 

It’s pointless to deny his question—it wouldn’t sound believable even to you. 

You take a shaky breath, nodding sheepishly and peering up at him with wide eyes. He groans and pulls you closer, lips crashing roughly against yours. The kiss is short and sloppy, but it still takes the breath out of you like the first kiss had and he chuckles at the way you whine when he pulls away. 

He is gentle as he guides you to the bed on the other side of the room, he only teases you once about the way your legs shake as you walk before he helps you sit on the edge of the bed.  

You tilt your head up at him watching curiously as he pulls his hoodie off, tossing it carelessly to the ground. He smirks but doesn’t say a word as he unbuckles his belt, working his pants open enough that he can tug them down to his thighs, dragging his boxers with them. 

You stare, wide eyed and red cheeked at his cock—he’s big—bigger than any guy you’d ever been with. It’s both terrifying and thrilling. 

He raises a brow at you, “What are you waiting for princess, thought you said you were a cock hungry whore?” 

You pout, face burning a little hotter, “I only said that because you wouldn’t let me cum otherwise—”

“You’re a shitty liar, ya know that?” he hums, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his cock before you can pull away, “Look at that, look at those pretty hands on my cock.” 

You whimper at the feeling of his cock warm and heavy in your hands, the bright pink of your nails contrasting brightly off of his skin. 

Brian chuckles at your reaction, hand reaching up to brush stray hairs out of your face, "You were made for this princess— think about what all your little friends would say if they saw you like this—" he traces his thumb over your bottom lip and groans as he  bucks his hips forward pushing his cock against the palm of your hand, "What do you think they'd say, hm?"

"I–I–I don't know—"

"Oh but I think you know exactly what they'd say," he clicks his tongue, pressing his thumb down a little harder on your lower lip, forcing your lips to part, "They'll think you're a whore–"

"No–no they—"

He hisses, shaking his head as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue until you fall silent, save for a quiet whimper, as he reaches down with his other hand to guide your hand along his cock, "They already know you're a whore—they probably knew you'd spread your legs for me didn't they?"

You try to shake your head or pull your hand off his dick but he doesn't let you move an inch that  he doesn't want you to. Brian smiles, guiding your hand back and forth along the length of his cock. You stare at him and then down between the two of you. 

Instinctively you squeeze his cock, a sense of pride rises inside your chest when Brian groans. He presses his thumb back a little farther on your tongue, spit pooling in your mouth and licks his lips as he smirks at you. You squeeze his cock again and after a moment he pulls his hand away from your mouth, grunting as he shoves you back against the mattress. 

“You still want my cock princess?”

You nod after a moment, fists curled into the sheets as you stare up at him. He's surprisingly gentle as he traces his hands over your thighs, hiking the skirt of your dress back up around your waist. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties and he taps your hip, beckoning you to lift your bottom half off of the mattress so he can drag the thin fabric down to your ankles. 

He shifts a little closer, cock brushing against your thigh and you roll your hips in anticipation. He raises a brow at you, slightly shocked by your movement but he doesn't move to stop you, instead he reaches down between the two of you with one hand to guide his cock against your  wet cunt, watching your reaction with a pleased groan when you whimper at him.

Brian presses into you slowly, stretching you with every inch of his cock. He groans, fingers digging into your hips as he bullies his cock deeper. It drags the air from your lungs and forces a string of breathless curses and whines to fall past your lips.

"Fu—fuck—oh fuck—you're so tight—" he hisses, biting his lower lip as he watches every inch of his cock disapear into the tight heat of your cunt. It takes him what feels like ages to bottom out, cock hitting the deepest parts of you until you swear you can feel him in your belly.

Mercifully he stops moving, seemingly just as overwhelmed as you by the feeling of you clenching around him. His mercy lasts for scarcely a minute before he rolls his hips and drags his cock out a few inches before driving it right back in with a low groan. 

You choke, trembling hands reaching up to grasp at his t shirt, "bri—brian—fuck"

"It's alright princess—fuck you were made for this—" hums, leaning forward, one hand gripping your hip while the other reaches up to hold your face. You whimper as he pulls his hips back until only the tip of his cock remains.

“Brian—bri—wait—” 

He slams back into you forcing a choked sound from the back of your throat, “fuck—you—-how—how are you so fucking tight?” he starts thrusting slow and hard, gripping your hips as his pace quickens. 

“Bri—”

One hand drags up from your hip to tangle into your hair, forcing you to look up at him, “What is it pretty girl—” 

A whimper spills from your lips and you reach for him, unsure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer, “bri—brian—please—-you’re—-you’re too big—-slo—slow down”

He laughs, driving his cock into you a little harder, “You think I’d believe that I’m bigger than those fucking jocks you spread your legs for?” 

You tremble under him,”Please—bri—-please—I’m serious—-fuck—”

“Oh thats real fucking cute—” he grins, tugging on your hair and groaning when your cunt clenches around him, “Don’t you worry princess—I told you I’d take care of you.” 

He reminds you again that he has no intention of being nice or gentle with you as he fucks you just as relentlessly as he had when he had you cumming on his fingers. You barely even register the fact that he’s not wearing a condom—-you hate that your cunt flutters at the thought of him filling you with his cum. 

And yet you beg him for more. Clinging desperately to him and sobbing with every bruising thrust of his cock. He grips your hip and holds you in place as he sets a brutal pace fucking you—-tearing you apart and then putting you back together with every drag of his cock—-

You’re ruined for anyone else—-you can’t even deny that at this point—-though you obviously weren’t about to admit that outright to him—-especially not when he’s still in the process of ruining you.

It doesn’t even take long for him to send you headfirst into another orgasm-—-it’s sort of terrifying how easily he brings you to the edge—-normally you were lucky to be able to orgasm even once—-

The only warning you get is the string of curses that spill from his lips and the jerk of his hips as he drives his cock into you as deep as it will go—your cunt flutters again and he spills into you saying your name all soft and pretty like a prayer.

He falls with you and your vision blurs—time slows and all you can feel is Brian—he surrounds you—consumes you—you drown in him.

His pace remains just as relentless and unforgiving even as he fucks you through your second orgasm and all you can do is cling to him. He curls over you, dragging your hips against his and mouthing at your neck, sucking a few more bruises along the way, choking on a whine every time he feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck––Bri—Brian” you babble as his thumb grazes back over your oversensitive clit.

He shifts, pressing a few lazy kisses up your buck and along your jaw and then drags you into a sloppy kiss. He pulls out, smirking into the kiss as you whimper at the loss of his cock, cum already beginning to drip out of your cunt. 

He rolls over, laying down beside you on the mattress. You come down from the high slowly, and even then you feel like you're stuck in a fog. You feel good—perfect actually—perfect and full and warm—

Without thinking you shift a little closer to him, curling against his side with a content sigh. At first he leans into it, arm curling around your side, hand tracing over your hip.

His laugh startles you,"I didn't expect you to be so clingy afterwards" 

In an instant you pull away from him, dragging yourself up off the bed with a huff, "Fuck you Brian—"

He laughs again, leaning up on his elbows to look at you with a smirk, "Pretty sure I did fuck you already princess," he pauses, eyes dragging down between your thighs, "unless that's someone elses cum dripping from your cunt—"

"Fuck off." You hiss, pulling the end of your dress down and glancing around in search of your panties. 

"You looking for something pretty girl—"

You turn to him as he shifts towards the end of the bed, tugging his pants up and giving you a smug grin. You narrow your eyes at him as he reaches his hand into pocket and lifts your lacy blue panties up in front of you. 

"Give them back."

He thinks for a moment and then shrugs, "No I don't think I will,"

"Brian—"

"Nope" he hums, shoving the panties back into his pocket, "I think I'll keep em as a souvenir"

You curse under your breath, preparing to argue further until he gets up off the bed, taking a step towards you, tilting his head at you, " —maybe i'll give em back to you next time"

You bite your lip, stepping backwards and shaking your head, "We can't do this again—"

 Brian raises a brow, “Who says?” 

You fidget with the hem of your dress, pulling down a bit farther to cover your thighs—-you really wish you hadn’t gone with such a short dress—it was doing very little to hide the slick coating of your inner thighs. 

You shrug after a moment, “We just can’t—-this was fun and all but—” 

“Oh it was fun was it—” 

“Well—I mean—”

He laughs—another step forward—-and another two backwards until you reach the door—- “You admitting you had fun with little old me? I’m flattered truly—-and I’ll be honest you’re a better fuck than I thought.” 

You turn the lock and grip the door handle—-glancing at him with a frown before opening the door slightly—- “Let’s just agree to never discuss this okay?” 

He looks at you for a moment, and then shrugs, leaning down to swipe his jacket up off the ground, “If that’s what you want then that’s fine by me,” he pauses as if considering his next words carefully—though you know for a fact he rarely ever thinks very clearly about any choice he’s ever made—- “Wouldn’t want your friends to find out what a little whore you are would you?” 

In an instant you spin on your heels, just barely catching yourself as you pull the door open enough to slip through, losing yourself in the hordes of teenagers moving through the house—-as you pull the door shut behind you, you catch another glimpse of Brian, winking as he pulls a lighter and a fresh cigarette from his pocket—-

You left the party early—-mercifully you didn’t run into any of your friends—-though you did catch Max’s eye as you slipped past an incredibly stoned classmate—-you imagined you would be hearing from Maddy or Kirsten later on—-probably Kirstem, these days it seemed like getting on your ass was what brought her the most joy. 

That wasn’t your biggest priority though if you were honest—-you really should not have fucked Brian fucking Wilcox.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Hungry Eyes

masterlist

Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

           It was the best decision he would ever make.

           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  

           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Until it wasn’t.

           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

           It makes Spencer sick.

           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

           “Not exactly.”

           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

--

           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

           “Busy?”

           JJ nods.

           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

           Of fucking course.

           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

           “She’s not interested.”

           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

--

           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

           “Open.”

           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”

           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

           “How many do you think you deserve?”

           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

           Spencer returns your smile.

           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 

          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 

          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

          “You okay, princess?”

           You give a weak nod.

           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

            Spencer is the first to pull away.

           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

           “Only for you.”

           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

          “Is that a no?”

          “... Look up the number.”

-

-

-

taglist: @90spumkin​ @moon-light-jukebox​ @thebookamongmen​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @eldahae​

[bukojuiice]

You got questions, I got answers tonight, babe.

ೃ pairing: (pro hero! katsuki bakugo x pro hero! fem reader)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw (18+)

ೃ genre: smut

ೃ word count: 2,139 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

  ೃ  shoto’s valentines fic → izuku’s valentines fic  → virtual valentines hcs 

ೃ  please reblog, reply or leave like if you enjoyed! it means a lot! c:

ೃ song inspo: love by dean ft. syd

ೃ you and the bakusquad drag bakugo to a short vacation after such an intense week of hero work, much to his annoyance. however, his stress and pent up energy was more than you expected, so you knew exactly how to release all his frustrations.

After an intense first week of Pro Hero activities, you were given a 5 day rest period. The Bakusquad had a wonderful idea of going on a short vacation to Okinawa before you guys have to face reality again.

You practically dragged your boyfriend, Bakugo to come along as he had second thoughts and didn’t want to ruin his so called “villain streak” by taking a well-deserved rest and relaxation when he could just continue fighting off villains.

Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Sero were so excited for this trip that they could not shut up about it. In turn, Katsuki was more irritated than usual as you take the plane ride there. He was forced to go on this trip after all.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You had arrived late in afternoon and the first thing that you guys do as soon as you arrive at the hotel was dropping the bags in your respective hotel rooms. You and Bakugo were in one room while everyone else had separate rooms entirely to themselves.

Before you could even take a full look at the room you were staying in, your pink-haired friend came knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Mina spoke from behind the door, her gleeful voice ever so echoing. “We’ll meet you two at the swimming pool lounge okay? We’ll be ordering food already!”

“Alright! We’ll see you later Mina-chan!” You shout back, and as soon as Mina heard your words of confirmation, you could hear her footsteps as she walks away.

Bakugo continues to rummage through his things, cursing under his breath.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask him sweetly, poking his cheek. “Look, Katsuki-kun… you need to rest. It’s been an intense week, even the Hero Commission wanted us to-“

“Yea. Yea. I get it. Let’s go to the lounge.” He says harshly. He leaves the door open as you follow suit.

“That was… cold.” You blink, trying to process what your boyfriend had just said.

The two of you arrive at the lounge area however the rest of the Bakusquad was nowhere to be seen. Bakugo approaches a waiter and begins to order whilst you decided to go around the area to look for your other friends.

You were minding your own business when a weird and bad-intentioned man begins to approach you. You didn’t pay him any attention at first since you were occupied with looking for your friends, but the weirdo was persistent.

“A pretty girl like you alone in a resort like this?” He coos, trying to catch your attention. “I must be dreaming.”

“Piss off.” You snarled before he could even touch your arm, you quickly run back to Katsuki, as the weirdo loses sight of you. You slowly pace back to Bakugo who had an annoyed expression on his face. When you arrive at the area where he was standing, he grabs your hand and takes you to the elevator.

He clicks on the button that led to your floor and swipes the card key to your room, he comes to a sudden stop when you enter your dark hotel room, and he looks down at your hand in his like he’d forgotten he’d been holding it.

You pull Katsuki closer, twisting your hand around to take his more firmly.

His strong fingers fit perfectly between yours, and you know he can feel it too by the way he tightens his grip. His other hand settles on your waist, holding you against him, so close you can practically feel his heart beating.

“Did you really have to pull me out of the lounge area like that?” You pout seductively.

“Tch. (Y/N)….” He says your name in his low voice that sounds like an “I want you,” but you need to hear his actual words. You can see he’s so used to trying to brush things off that it’s an instinct, but he fights against it.

“Because I couldn’t stand to see an asshole try to make a move on you while I was at the other side of the area, waiting for the food. Who the hell gave him permission to even be within a few meters of you?”

His voice is irritated and strained. Your heart races under the intensity of his gaze, all his unspoken desire just beneath the surface.

  “It’s okay Katsuki-kun. You saw how I brushed him off… What did you take me back here for?”

He moves suddenly, backing you against the wall. You gasp, and then he’s right there, pinning you to the surface, hands on either side of your head.

As you shift, you hit the light switch, and the room is illuminated, revealing the bed. Katsuki goes still as he sees it.

“Of fucking course. Of course Mina would book one bed instead of two.”

His voice is tight, barely restrained. As if he wants to release an intense surging energy inside him. Your body is attuned to his tension. He’s coiled so tight, you feel it radiating off of him.

“Katsuki. Answer me. What did you take me back here for?”

His eyes drop to your lips. You feel his breath skimming against them.

“The way that fucking sleezeball loser looked at you… I couldn’t help it. You’re everything. And I want you more than anything.” Your stomach swoops at his intensity. He’s finally giving you the honesty you’ve been asking for but your conscience chimes in for a second.

“Katsuki…”

He brushes his thumb against your lips, and it’s like a bolt of electricity races through you, leaving you tingling for him.

His stare becomes more and more intense, as if he was craving for something.

“(Y/N), tell me. Right here, right now, what do you want?”

“It’s you, Katsuki. I want you.”

He sucks in a breath then crashes his mouth to yours. You both let out moans as he pushes you harder against the door and you pull him closer.

He kisses you hard and you melt at the feel of his lips and tongue, the sounds of your gasps and needy moans filling the quiet hotel room.

“Fuck. I’ll never ever get enough of this. Every time I kiss you, I get more desperate for the next one.” His throaty groan makes your stomach swoop again, and you tangle your fingers into his spiky hair.

You wink at him, your eyes giving off the same passion and love in his. “Then don’t stop.”

He brushes his lips against yours. It feels so light, yet the desire and the lust behind it is so powerful you can’t help but not resist.

“(Y/N)…”

A shiver runs through you as his mouth covers yours. Everything narrows to the feeling of his kiss, slow and intense like he’s taking his time tasting you.

His hands slide down to your sides to hold your hips, the heat of his body radiating against yours.

As your desire grows, you try to deepen the kiss to match the rate of your racing heart, but he draws back as it starts to get intense.

His eyes smolder, intense and teasing at the same time.

He nips gently at your ear and you arch against him. His hands slide up to grip your waist, pulling you tight to his body while still pushing you back against the door.

“(Y/N)… say my name again…”

You crash your lips to his again, feeling and pouring all your desire and impatience into the kiss. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the door above your head, his show of power making you giddy. You arch against him, and he sucks in a harsh breath, fingers digging into your wrists with delicious pleasure.

Katsuki’s eyes darken, and he captures your mouth with a desperate kiss, tongue sliding against yours, leaving you breathless. You tip your head back against the door as he runs his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking with every inch of his love.

He grabs your hips and pulls you off the door, steering you to the center of the room. You throw your arms around him and speak with your lips pressed onto his. You moan as he kisses down your neck, gasping as his teeth scrape against your skin and he soothes the spot with his tongue.

“(Y/N)…” He says demandingly. “I need you. Right now.”

He takes a step back and starts to undo the buttons of his shirt, but you still his hand with your own.

“Sit back and relax Suki-kun. Let me do it.”

He bites his lip at the term of endearment, or maybe at the thought of you peeling off his clothes.

You brush your lips against the corner of his mouth, and feel him shiver. His chest rises and falls as you continue to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, grinning wolfishly as you toss it to the floor.

“(Y/N)…” there’s an impatient growl in his voice. His hands flex at his sides, and you know he’s dying to touch you, to rip your clothes off.

“Shh. Your patience will be rewarded.”

You press your palm to the center of his chest, then drag it downwards over the ridges of his abs, following the path of his well-toned abs. He rolls his hips forward as you undo the clasp of his belt, and he catches your wrist in an iron tight grip.

“I can’t wait any longer.”

The hunger in his voice makes your brain feel like it stopped for a second, and before you realize it, he’s undressing you.

“Ah. Yes. I will never get tired of how impatient you are.” You shake your head yet feel nothing but arousal from the way he looks at you as he continues.

“I can’t help myself when you’re so irresistible,” He shrugs then smirks.

You help him undress you, and soon your clothes are lying in a heap on the floor. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you against him. You both moan at the feeling of your bodies pressed together, the heat emanating from the both of you.

Your stomach swoops as he spins the two of you around, backing toward the bed. He falls down onto the mattress and pulls you down on top of him.  He laughs, his voice husky at your look of surprise, bringing his hands to your waist to steady you as you lift yourself up to look down at him.

Still laughing a little, you lean down to kiss him, and it quickly grows heated as the intensity between the two of you spikes.

He’s still in his pants and you make quick work of the belt and zipper. He lifts his hips up to pull them off and throws them aside. 

You press your hand against his cock over his underwear, and he bucks against you, head thrown back.

“Ah…”

You feel the heat of his desire through the fabric, but what you want is right beneath.

 You close your teeth around the waistband and tug them down. He groans, lifting his hips to help you get them off. Once you cast his underwear aside, you wrap your lips around his member and suck briefly, a teasing touch that has him arching higher off the bed.

Before you could even process what had just happened, he throws a leg over you and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top and your legs are parted around his hips.

You call out his name as he roughly removes your underwear and creeps between your legs to tease his fingers against you, sending bolts of pleasure racing through all parts of your body.

“K-Katsuki…”

His mouth is hot against your neck as he speaks in a rush, hips rolling against yours.

“Make this one last the w-whole night,” you whisper in between breaths.

Lust flashes in his eyes and he growls deep, slowing the movement of his fingers against you.

You gasp as you feel him push into you, taking one of your hands and lacing his fingers with yours.

He sets a tantalizingly slow pace, making you groan loudly at the purposeful way he thrusts into you.

You grip onto his muscular shoulders, giving yourself over to the exquisite feeling as he bites back several deep groans of his own. He ducks his head to kiss your breasts, then begins to suck your nipples, sending shivers through your body as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside you.

He stills suddenly, and you groan in a mix of pleasure and frustration, lifting your hips to search for more.

“You want this to last the whole night, huh? I’m going to give you what you want.”

You throw your head back as he starts moving again, your moans filling the room as he teases you toward that bliss, as you lose all sense of time.

_______

“(Y/N)! BAKUBRO!” You hear Kaminari knock on the door playfully. “Were you guys THAT exhausted that you did nothing but sleep yesterday!? We didn’t see you guys by the pool! Is something wrong? Are you guys sick!?”

You were cuddling with Katsuki after such an intense but amazing night, still wearing nothing, the blankets and comforters being the only ones shielding you from anything. 

“W-we’re fine Kaminari-kun.” You say groggily, Bakugo’s strong arms still wrapped around you, giving you all the warmth and comfort you need. “W-we’ll be down in an h-hour.” 

“Ok then! See you!” Kaminari leaves as soon as he arrives. You sigh softly and turn to your explosive boyfriend who was still sound asleep, you rest your head on his chest as you too, drift back to dreamland, excited for what else this vacation has in store for you.

-Fin. 

[os-hyoideum]

"I have come to a coclusion." Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!plus size!Reader

"i figured out why you're so into me… it's because wherever you grab it feels like a boob" (my inspo, in the form of my stupid thought - I wanted to do a few more of my fav characters, but we'll see)

Word count: 1263 Content: Pro!Shinsou (over 18), fluff (I think), funny (I hope), slighly just suggestive at the end (letting out a perv a bit, but just teensy bit), plus size/chubby/fat Reader, Reader has nipple piercings (I just think everyone -who wants them ofc- deserves them), Reader has big? (heavy) boobies

a/n: Like I'm never inspired to write, this time I just did (and had fun, surprisingly... it's that Shiso brainrot 😔). This is literally THE SECOND time I have ever written something (that isn't an academic essay) in English. Also, THE FIRST time using the second person in writing, but I wanted to try. It's just some quick fic, so enjoy! Also, sorry for, perhaps, a weird use of commas, I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to put them correctly everywhere.

Hitoshi let out a relieved sigh once he stepped over the threshold to your shared apartment.

It wasn’t anything particularly special, with its open space kitchen-living room combo, bathroom, and decently sized bedroom, but it was a home that brought him comfort after hard days (or nights) of work. Particularly, when it was an unexpected task of giving the talk to aspiring heroes at his former high school - UA.

It was a bit weird for him to get home during late afternoon, as his usual night patrols made him used to getting back at rather early morning hours, but still, he was just glad to be finally in the comfort of his own place.

After taking his shoes off and walking a bit more inside, he was met with a sight to behold (by his own requirements).

There, laying face down on a couch was you, clothed only in a pair of black panties and a sports bra. Electric fan, standing on a side table, was blowing straight onto your exposed back. Hitoshi supposed it wasn’t anything particularly strange, given it was the middle of summer and, additionally, you must have been tired from your work trip; nevertheless, he decided to ask.

“Well, hello there,” he started, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, “That’s a nice view of your ass, but why are you basically naked?”

You propped yourself on your elbows and turned your head back to look at him. The breeze from the fan stung your eyes a bit, so you sat up straight and faced Hitoshi properly. Partly, to just be able to admire him (like usual) and, partly, so the breeze would still be directed towards your back.

“First of all: it’s hot as hell today. I have never been more grateful for our AC… that still was not enough, but well…” You listed lifting one finger up.

“Okay, fair.” Hitoshi nodded. He looked at you lifting another finger.

“Second of all: I had a little, hmm… mirror sesh? I guess it could be called like that.”

Hitoshi knew exactly what you meant and instantly was put on alert. He did not know what to expect from the outcome. You weren’t particularly insecure, but drops in confidence happen to everyone, at the best of times. Having a truce with your body didn’t mean an endless peace.

He looked at you with intensity, looking for any indicators of feeling low, but relaxed a bit seeing you being at least in a neutral, if not even good, mood.

“Oh? Is that so?”

You stood up, the slight jiggle of your soft body not concealed by anything. He had seen you bare many times before (like, a lot of times), but still caught himself admiring the patterns your stretch marks drew upon your skin. He knew it’s not anything special, quite the natural part of the human body, yet he still saw some intricate artistic thought behind it.

“Yes,” you said, putting one hand on your hip and gesticulating with the other, “and you know how I, personally, feel about myself. Like, sometimes it’s good, sometimes bad, nothing new, right?” You asked rather rhetorically, to which Hitoshi still nodded slightly, listening from behind a bar piece separating your kitchen and living space.

“BUT,” you emphasized and pointed a finger at him,” today I was wondering in particular, why YOU like THIS-” you paused to encircle your body with one hand “-so much. And I have come to a conclusion”

Hitoshi hummed and took a sip of iced coffee he took from the fridge in the meantime.

“Yeah? And what’s your conclusion then?”

“You are so attracted to me because everywhere you touch feels like a boob.”

That was an unexpected sentence that left your lips; so unexpected actually, that Hitoshi almost choked on his coffee. Luckily though, he did not. Not paying much attention to your could-have-died significant other, you continued with your reasonings.

“Arm? Boob.” You squeezed your upper arm to emphasize. “Tummy?” A little squeeze creating a roll between your fingers. “Boob.” You propped your leg on the couch to poke at your inner thigh. “Thigh? Boob. Calf? Boob. See? Everything’s a boobie!”

Hitoshi just laughed looking at your excited expression, he assumed from coming to such boob-tastic revelation. He fixed his black headband, keeping his beautiful hair out of his face, and pointed at your leg.

“Well, I don’t remember your boobs being quite so hairy. Though my memory might be failing, after all this time.” He said with a chuckle, hinting at your two weeks of separation, due to your dreadful trip.

“How DARE you!” You gasped dramatically and threw a pillow that Hitoshi expertly caught with a laugh. “Are you shaming my body hair?”

“Oh, of course not,” he smirked playfully, “I quite like your hairy legs.”

With a slightly frustrated groan, you fell on the couch and loudly sighing slid off onto the floor. Sitting behind your low coffee table, you tilted your head down and glared at Hitoshi from under your eyebrows. He knew someone could have gotten scared had they been on the receiving end, but spending so much time with you, he was used to it and just found it amusing. Seeing the lack of reaction from him, you just stood up and walked towards the bar to stand in front of him.

“If you don’t stop, I WILL sit on you.”

Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow at you and turned around. He took a step towards the kitchen sink and, after turning the water on, splashed his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked, not quite expecting him to start washing his face in the middle of a conversation.

After taking a small, clean kitchen towel to dry himself off, he looked you straight in the eye.

“Prepping your seat, baby.”

You stared at him for a few seconds with wide eyes, before slowly clapping and nodding with approval.

“Huh… outstanding move. True dedication to a joke.”

“I wasn’t joking.” But you already knew that.

“Damn…” You started, holding his intense gaze. “Okay, Mr Shinsou, you’re on.”

He looked you up and down with an expression of a man starved.

“You’re in for a ride…” But you already knew that too. “Mrs Shinsou.”

“I’m not Mrs Shinsou.”

“Not yet.” You knew it was mostly playful banter since neither of you was in a rush to make your relationship official. It was comfortable enough, to the point actually, that others did mistake you for a married couple at times. So it turned into a joke, being called by his name.

“Alright…” You smiled softly at him before your expression became much more devious. “Wanna take a shower before I take my rightful place upon my throne?”

Without waiting for his response, you pulled your sports bra over your head. In an instant, Hitoshi’s gaze fell onto your heavy chest. Decorated with shining metal nipples perked up, due to the slight chill from the AC and the fan, both working at full capacity. You turned around and walked towards the bathroom with a nice sway in your hips. In the doorway, you slid your panties off and threw them at Hitoshi with a heated look from behind your shoulder.

He caught them with one hand and, looking you straight in the eyes, brought them to his face. He took a long breath in, taking in your scent mixed with sweat that almost made him dizzy with desire.

He put his cup into the sink and, with your panties in hand, followed you into the bathroom.

[noyaism]

A Night Off

Being the Erwin simp I am, he had to be my first AoT fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Pairing: Erwin SmithxFem!Reader

Word count: 4.8k 

Warnings: choking, creampie, super soft ending, little bit of angst at the beginning (tw: death), praising, little bit of size kink (lmk if I missed any warnings !!)

Song Inspo: A Night Off - Drake

Life within the walls was as mundane as life could get. It might've been peaceful, yes. Hell, it was the only life you could be having, but still, you yearned to know more of the world you lived in, as you felt as if there had to be more. The walls and the titans beyond it couldn't be all there was. That just seemed so limited to you, in a world that just had to be vast. Maybe this was simply your thinking because you were a child. Of course the world had to be bigger than what you knew, it's not like you knew much of it anyway. Or maybe there really was more base to what you thought, maybe your fantasies were a reality. 

Because you were as fascinated with the world as you were, history was your favorite subject growing up. You sat up a little straighter, clutched your pencil a little harder, listened just a bit more intently whenever the lesson started. A decent amount of the things you were taught made sense to you. However, something about the prospect of the walls being all that was left of humanity, that there was simply nothing but thousands, maybe even millions of titans outside just waiting to devour you and nothing else, just didn't sit right. It seemed so oddly far fetched, and you couldn't put your finger on why it felt that way. Apparently you weren't the only one who was feeling unsettled by this.

A small boy raised his hand, you recognized him as the teacher's kid; Erwin Smith. There was a look of pure curiosity in his eyes as he questioned his father, you could tell he was having the same feelings you were. 

“If we lost all records of what the outside world was like, how do we know we’re the only ones left?” 

It was odd for you, hearing someone else have the same question you did, something that came to plague your young mind. You wondered what the boy might've been thinking about what was outside. 

The teacher, his father, dismissed the question, going on about the lesson. Erwin looked defeated as he sat back down, continuing to take his notes as if nothing happened. His eyes told a different story, though. There was a lot going on in his mind, and at your lunch break you decided to pick his brain.

“So what do you think is outside?” You asked the boy as you went to sit next to him in the schoolyard. Your backs were to the wall, and you both carefully ate your sandwiches as you surveyed all of the other children running about freely. The two of you weren't like them, that was plain enough to see. 

“I’m not sure really, but the story my father told just doesn't entirely make sense. Almost as if we’re being led to believe something that isn't true at all. Do you get what I mean?” You nodded your head at the boy’s question, letting out a small sigh. 

“My parents have told me that same thing, and it just doesn't really sit right with me. But then again it's what everyone knows, right? So maybe we’re crazy or something.” Erwin laughed lightly at your words, nodding along.

“Yeah, maybe we are. At least I know someone as crazy as me now.”

And from that moment on, you and Erwin became the best of friends. The next day Erwin told you he had something important to tell you during lunch. The two of you sat in the same place you had the day prior, and he divulged to you everything his father had told him. You sat in utter amazement, slowly chewing on your food as the theory was explained.

“So the history that we know is all a lie? The king just wanted to make people easier to control?” Erwin nodded his head intently, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, so he changed the memory of all his subjects, and altered any historical records to follow suit. That's why we don't know anything about the world beyond the walls, the knowledge has been stolen from us, and it's been so long since then that it's doubtful anyone truly remembers.” 

This all made an insurmountable amount of sense to you, and when Erwin decided he wanted to tell your fellow classmates, you agreed to help him spread the information around. That night when you told your family they simply laughed, thinking it was some crazy theory you and Erwin had made up. They thought it was cute and completely dismissed it, but advised against telling too many people about it, just in case it might have caused you any sort of trouble. You thought they were crazy for not believing, but realized you couldn't force them to. You also didn't understand what they meant by getting in trouble through telling people of this theory. That was until the Military Police questioned you and Erwin. You kept your calm and the two of you thoroughly explained what Mr.Smith had told Erwin, and were let on your way. Unfortunately, Mr. Smith didn't come home that night, leaving Erwin orphaned. 

You held Erwin’s hand at his father’s funeral, offering all the emotional support you could. Death is usually hard for children to grasp, but the two of you knew that his death wasn't an accident, and that the Military Police berid of him because of his theories on the history of your society and the world beyond it. While Erwin held onto hope that there was justification in his father’s murder, you rightly knew there couldn't be any motive that would make it right. 

As you both continued to grow up you and Erwin always had each other’s backs. Where one of you went the other wasn't far behind, and the both of you intended for it to always be that way. You seemed to be the only two people that had any inkling of the truth, and so it was best you two stuck together. You both decided to join the Survey Corps, as it was your best shot at ever being able to find the truth, and get some sort of vengeance for Mr. Smith. It meant a lot to you to be able to go into the outside and find what you knew had to be true, and it meant just as much to Erwin, probably even more. 

When Shiganshina district fell and Commander Shadis stepped away from his position, Erwin was appointed his successor. Before he was officially sworn in you got him alone, wanting to know how he was feeling about it all. There was nobody in the world who you were closer to than Erwin, and you knew this was going to be a lot for him to handle. 

“So, am I going to have to start calling you Commander now? I am technically older than you, addressing you as my superior will be kind of weird.”

“For you and me both, but if this is the task I’m giving then I'm going to do it, and do it proudly. If they think I’m fit enough to lead the Scouts it's an honor, and it's one I can't give up. Especially if that means I can get closer to the truth. You know I have to do this y/n.” You let out a small sigh, nodding your head. You pulled up a chair beside him, putting an arm around him. 

“I know you do, but just know I’m always here. I've been your right hand since we were kids, and you've been mine. That isn't ever changing. We’re gonna find the truth, no matter how many expeditions it takes. I couldn't possibly think of a better person to take orders from than you.” 

Since his father had died Erwin didn’t smile much, but in that moment he flashed a big one at you, and it was almost like the two of you were kids again. 

The Survey Corps wasn't an easy job in the slightest. A lot of the time you had to watch your comrades die in front of you, while you yourself were just narrowly escaping the jaws of death. Add onto that a growing dislike by the public, and it took quite the thick skin to proudly call yourself a scout. You did so without second thought, especially now that your best friend was the commander. You did get moments of escape, though, and you did get to become really close to the people you worked with. From the day you met Moblit Berner you found him to be quite the endearing person. He seemed almost too soft to be a scout initially, but softness wasn't really an option for him as he was tasked with keeping Section Commander Hange in check. 

You and Moblit had developed a bit of a romance within a fairly short period of time. You were attracted to his kindness, how gentle and loyal he was behind the panicky exterior. You had a lot of love for him in your heart, but part of you couldn't lay a finger on why you didn't see longevity with him. It was in no way his fault, at the very least you were sure of that, but you couldn't quite give a clear explanation as to why it was you felt that way. The question plagued you, and it became obvious Moblit was starting to catch on. 

“Y/n?” He asked, shaking your arm lightly and breaking you out of your trance. The two of you were in his chambers, just talking as you normally did. Nothing was out of the ordinary, despite you being so uncharacteristically distracted. 

“Sorry, sorry I was just really lost in thought. There's a lot going on right now, it's all really overwhelming.”

“Yeah, it is. But I don't think work is why you're feeling so overwhelmed, at least not the whole reason why.” You sighed at Moblit’s words, running a hand through your hair. You weren't exactly sure what to say, it's not like you could explain what you were feeling at all.

“I get it, though. I've been feeling really overwhelmed too, and not just because of work. I don’t really know how else to say this, so I’m just going to come clean. Y/n, I care for you a lot, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t, or that I've been lying to you or anything. It’s just that I’ve come to realize that I actually have really strong feelings for Nifa, and-”

“You...you’re saying that you have feelings for someone else?” You quickly cut him off. You avoided eye contact with him, trying to decipher what you were feeling to the best of your ability.

“I am, and I’m really sorry that’s the case, but I have to be honest with you and with myself.” 

The both of you sat in silence for a while, the quiet thick in the air. You still couldn't tell what you were feeling, and you weren't sure you were going to be able to figure it out yourself, either. 

“It's okay, Moblit. I’m just glad you were honest with me, I guess. I wish you the best, and I hope Nifa returns your sentiments. You're a really good guy, and she's a really good girl. I hope it all goes well for you two.” 

Before Moblit could even reply you left the room, heading straight to Erwin’s without once looking back. Moblit didn't bother to chase you, knowing well that it was better to leave you be to work out your feelings. You didn't waste time knocking on Erwin’s door, simply opening it up and leaning against it as you closed it. He was sat at the small table in the room, writing in a journal by the firelight. He looked up at you in confusion, not at all mad you simply came busting in, though. It was something you did since you were kids, he was completely used to it by that point.

“Moblit just broke up with me.” You said, finally peeling yourself off the door. Erwin stood and walked over to hug you, his much bigger frame engulfing yours as he did his best to comfort you. 

“I’m really sorry about that, Y/n. What happened?” He asked as he pulled away, going back to sit and you joining him in the seat opposite his.

“He told me he has feelings for Nifa. I can’t really say I'm surprised, she’s a beautiful girl, has a great personality.”

“It’s not like you don't, you know. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I guess if I were him I would have feelings for her, too. Especially with how I’ve been lately. I wasn't ever really present with him. Something always just felt off to me, and I couldn't put my finger on what exactly it was.” 

Erwin took a moment to think before he responded, closing the journal and putting it aside.

“Were you simply just losing interest in him?” He questioned.

“I dunno, I kinda feel like I wasn't ever really interested in him at all.” You started, letting out a sigh before continuing.

“I feel like...I feel like what I felt for Moblit was almost like I was just...deflecting what I was actually feeling.” 

“And what was it that you were actually feeling?” Erwin replied, looking a bit confused as to what you meant. 

You looked into his eyes, the same eyes you had gazed upon for countless years now, and in that moment, something clicked in your head. Every moment the two of you had spent together, every time one of you saved the other, every laugh, every smile, every word of support, it all flooded you in an instant. It felt as if the whole world shifted, like nothing ever really made any sort of sense until that very moment. The two of you had been by each other’s side for so long, and you had watched him grow from a bright eyed child to a strong willed man, and in every moment you could think of you had been falling deeper and deeper in love with him. 

“That I love you, Erwin. And I guess I kind of always have.” 

Your words were simple, concise. Erwin’s gaze turned soft as you spoke, and he moved his chair over to sit in front of you. He took your hand in his, gently running his thumb over your knuckles. Both of your hands were callused and hardened from years of training and fighting, and yet in that moment there was a softness in how he held your hand that you didn't know either of you could even possess at this juncture. 

“I’ve been waiting a really long time to hear you say that, Y/n.” Your head, which was down so you could watch how he held your hand, immediately perked up as you heard him speak words you couldn't even believe were real. This time it was you that looked at him in confusion, which melted away as he leaned in and kissed you. You gathered from his words that Erwin had been feeling this same way for a considerable amount of time, yet wasn't sure if he should act on it or not. While part of you wish he would've, you were glad he didn't. This moment was utterly perfect, and even the slightest of differences wouldn't have made it the same. 

Erwin pulled you into his lap, kissing you harder now that the gap between your bodies had been bridged. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, and your hands snaked up into his hair, tangling themselves in his golden strands. For a moment you thought about how this might affect your friendship, but you realized your friendship had always been so much more than just that. This was just the culmination of years of pent up emotion.

Erwin placed kiss after kiss on your jaw, bringing them down to your neck as he softly bit your skin. In an instant you remembered how you complained about how Moblit was too soft with you to Erwin, and it seemed he had learned from the other man’s mistakes. A soft moan escaped your lips as Erwin continued to mark his territory, each kiss and bite making you fall weaker and weaker in his grasp. You began to grind your hips into his, enjoying the friction between the two of you. Erwin stood, moving his arm under your thighs to hold you up, walking over to the bed and carefully laying you down. He loomed over you, illuminated by the moonlight bleeding in from the window on your left, and the candlelight on the right. He looked utterly godly above you, it made you crave even more of him. 

He started to quickly unbutton his shirt, and you did the same, needing to lessen the number of layers between your skin. This wasn't the first time you had seen Erwin shirtless, although it wasn't necessarily a common occurrence, and this time it made your cheeks heat up. You simply couldn't believe how beautiful he was. A small smirk pulled up the corner of his lips as he leaned down closer to you, his lips just barley ghosting over yours.

“Like what you see, gorgeous?” He teased, kissing you needily. You chuckled lightly, nodding your head a bit. Erwin was never like this, the playfulness in his tone so different than his usual stoicism. Seeing him like that was enough of a turn on, but the fact his affections were focused on you made it even more attractive.

“More than you’ll ever know.” You replied before kissing him again. He trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest, once again starting to mark you up. He showed no restraint in how he touched you, and you allowed him free reign over your body. He swiftly removed your bra and left a mess of small hickeys and bruises all over your torso. He took time to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly on the nub as he rolled the opposite one between his fingers. Your fingers scratched at his back, your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. Even just this felt euphoric, and it only made you want more, whatever “more” could be.

“May I?” Erwin asked as he tugged lightly on the waistband of your pants. You nodded quickly, and with a smile he undressed you further. Shoes, pants and underwear were discarded onto the floor, and there you were, completely bare in front of him. Erwin took a moment to admire you. Even if you were a soldier, a warrior, in this moment you were as delicate as a flower to him, the most precious rose. You were so small in comparison to him he almost mistook you for fragile, but he knew better than anyone just how strong you actually were, and how much you could take. In a more literal, fighting sense at least. He wanted to make you melt, though, and was certain he knew well how to. 

He left kiss after kiss on your inner thighs, making you squirm in anticipation. He held your hips down, halting all movement he didn't approve of. The mere sight of him between your thighs made you so excited, your pussy already dripping without having been touched even once. It was almost embarrassing for you, but it only made Erwin want to devour you even more. He moved your legs to drape over his shoulders, and his hands held onto your thighs as he finally made contact with your core. The lightest touch of his tongue felt like the sweetest sensation, had you been any more deprived of pleasure than you were just that would've been enough to bring you close to the edge, but you were intent on holding out for him. 

His lips closed around your clit, sucking lightly as he brought a hand down to your folds, fingers teasing your entrance. With how wet you were they were easily permitted entry, two of Erwin’s digits pushing into you with ease. Your hips circled on his mouth and your hands moved to his hair to push his head closer to you, anything to feel more, anything to bring yourself to the edge of glory and then some. His fingers curled up to brush up on the most sensitive parts of you, the feeling making your back arch and an elongated moan to fall from your lips. You didn’t want to get too loud, as it was getting late and you knew your comrades were probably trying to get some sleep, but you truly couldn’t help yourself, nothing had ever felt as good as this, and you were just getting started. 

It didn’t take much more for you to rocket into your first orgasm, your juices coating his fingers. He slowed them down, their pace having been fairly rapid, until you reached the end of your orgasm. He pulled them out slowly, agonizingly so, and licked them clean, taking in your flavor. A smirk curled the side of his mouth, and without a word he was right back between your thighs, lapping up every last drop of you. 

“E-Erwin…” You breathlessly pleaded, chest heaving as overstimulation started to poke at your senses. You didn’t even know what you were pleading for. You surely didn’t want him to stop pleasing you, frankly if you could do this for hours on end you would’ve, but you simply couldn’t articulate what it was you wanted. Erwin came up from between your legs, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as his body once again engulfed yours.

 As he pulled away you looked into his eyes, the little skies you came to know so well, and you saw something there you’d never seen before. A mixture of love and lust that darkened their color just a bit. Even the look in his eyes made it quite clear what his intentions with you were, and you had no intention of objecting to whatever was to come. 

“Quiet down, baby. Just trust me, I know what I’m doing.” 

Erwin quickly undressed himself completely, not wanting to waste any more time. He wanted to be inside you just as badly as you wanted him, maybe even more. If there was anything he needed, it was a night off. A night to indulge himself in pleasures he usually denied, too wrapped up in military life to give anything of that nature a second thought. If there was anyone who was going to get him like this, it was you, the woman he was madly in love with. 

For a lot of people, all work and no play made them dull. For Erwin, however, it made him all the more ready to give you absolutely everything.

With a quick thrust he entered you, making your back arch hard as your hands grabbed onto his arms for support. The man was very naturally endowed, and taking only about half of him as you were was still a lot, and he was well aware of that. He wanted to push you, see how much you could actually take. Once you seemed to settle he gave you the rest at a much more manageable pace, a smirk on his lips as he bottomed out. 

“Look at that, so you can handle it. Good girl.” He praised, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead before he started to move. His strokes were slow, but they hit so deep, you felt so full. Just as he had said, he certainly knew what he was doing.

He took you like this for a while, admiring how utterly gorgeous you looked like this. How you squirmed with his every move, how your mouth laid open lazily as you moaned, how your eyes started to glaze over as you gave yourself over to undying pleasure. It was a thing of beauty, slowly ruining you as he was. He brought a hand to wrap around your neck, squeezing softly before picking up the pace of his thrusts. He didn't question if you could take it, he knew you would. 

The slight asphyxiation turned the feeling of pleasure up to ten, making your walls clench tighter around Erwin’s length. As he picked up his speed your hands moved to his back, your nails lightly marking up his skin. Your body jolted upward with how he pounded into you, it was utterly relentless. You moved one of your hands to rub your clit, another orgasm ready to take you over. You quickly hooked your legs around his waist, letting him in even deeper, and a couple thrusts as this new angle sent you into your second orgasm.

You were getting pretty loud, and as much as Erwin loved all the pretty little noises you were making, he knew it was probably better to quiet you down some. He let go of your throat and pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach. Your cheek came clad to the pillow below you, and you felt your hips being pushed up into the air. Erwin had to stop for a second to admire this display, the way your pussy gleamed with your essence, it was intoxicating. 

“Keep it quiet. Don't give me a reason to punish you, angel.” His words were both orders and a warning, and you were in your right mind to obey. You nodded your head just as he pushed into you once again, and you let a long moan out into the pillow beneath you. 

His hands gripped hard onto your hips, and once again he moved at a pace that let you know his lust was borderline insatiable. You moved your hips in time with his, the sound of skin to skin contact filling the room. Erwin let out low grunts from between his lips, and in harmony with  your muffled moans a symphony of the utmost carnal desires was being played. Every instrument, your bodies, perfectly in tune. 

As strong as you were, you felt so weak, your legs about ready to give out with how bad they were shaking. If it weren’t for Erwin holding you up you certainly would’ve toppled to the bed by now, but you were trying your hardest to hold your own. You wanted, nay, needed to take him. To take everything he gave you, and more if possible. 

Moan after moan spilled helplessly onto the pillow as you felt him begin to lightly twitch inside you. Your walls tightened around his length for the last couple thrusts, and he soon emptied a fairly large load of his seed inside of you.

The both of you breathed heavily, exhaustion starting to set into your bodies. He pulled out of you slowly, sitting back and watching his cum start to drip out of you. Just as your legs completely gave out he scooped you up and laid you on your back. He moved to lay beside you, and you placed your head on his chest, just listening to his heartbeat as you both caught your breath. You almost couldn’t believe what had just transpired, had it not been for the exhaustion you felt, and you now joining hands with Erwin.

“Do you think things will ever end? And maybe our lives can be somewhat normal?” You asked, eyes fixed on you and Erwin’s hands. He rubbed your back with his free hand, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“I’m not sure, honestly. One could only hope, I guess.”

“Well I do. When things are finally safe and all, I think we should buy a nice house, have a couple kids, and just live a quiet life.” You replied, looking up at him with a small smile. Despite how much you loved being in the Survey Corps, and how important it was to you to be here and to fight for your freedom, part of you wished things were different. You wished you and Erwin could just go off and be together, but both of you were so deeply loyal to your cause, it just wasn’t a possibility.

“Yeah, I think that’d be nice. When we finally make it out, I promise you we can.” You smiled even brighter at his words, placing a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling back into his chest.

“Until then, we’re keeping each other safe. Just like we always have. That means I’m going to need you to gamble with your life just a little bit less.” Erwin laughed lightly, nodding his head in reply.

“Well to be fair, up until a little while ago, I had nothing to lose. Now I do.”

[moshymosh]

Remember me- A Night To Remember

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader.

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim go own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an as or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics. I know this part is a little weird, but there will be a -A Night To Remember part 2

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

Warnings- some mentions of guns, violence and some minor crime talk, the usual for criminal minds. (I’m bad at writing case talk, please don't hate me.)

Here's the dress I was using for inspiration. Also here are the roses. If the links don’t work, here’s a link to the inspo board on Pinterest.

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Y/n walked into the bullpen a package clasped in her hands. Y/n saw JJ talking to Derek and glanced around, making sure Spencer wasn't around before she walked over to the pair. "JJ I need a favor, " Y/n said softly, holding out the newspaper-wrapped package. "Give it to Spencer when I'm- uh not around?"

JJ and Derek shared a small smile after JJ took the package from Y/n and watched her go over to her desk and begin to set her stuff down. Y/n tilted her head at the small bouquet of yellow red-tipped roses sitting on her desk. Y/n smiled softly and pulled the notecard from its holder. Her eyes were drawn from the notecard to the three bags of gummy bears behind the roses.

Y/n let out a giggle and shook her head with a small smile on her face. She then looked up to JJ with a look of confusion but brushed it aside and sat down as she began to pull the card from its envelope.

'Will you go to the FBI ball with me?-SR xx'

Y/n giggled and slid the notecard into her blazer pocket and grabbed one of the bags of gummy bears, opening it as she left the bullpen to go to Garcia's bat cave.

Spencer smiled as he saw Y/n's reaction to his gifts, turning back to Rossi and Hotch, as they all stood in Hotch's office. "I think she liked them." He said excitedly. "Thank you." Spencer said before he left Hotch's office.

JJ saw Spencer walking back to his desk. "Spence!" she called for him as she began to walk over to him, Derek trailing behind her.

Spencer turned and looked at JJ, confused, seeing the package in her hand. "Looks like pretty boys got a crush." Derek said with a chuckle, nudging Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer took the package from JJ, pulling the notecard from under the emerald green ribbon that was decorating the package. Spencer looked up at JJ and Derek, confused before he opened the envelope and pulled out the card to read its contents.

'I love Walt Whitman, you saw and remember how I like my coffee, here's my favorite book of poems. Remember them- F/I L/I x'

Spencer put the notecard down and went to untie the ribbon when he looked at his desk to set the ribbon down and saw a note on the back of the card.

'PS- you once told me a statistic on recycling and I took it to heart, hence the newspaper. It's recycled.'

Spencer chuckled and carefully unwrapped the newspaper so it can be reused before he pulled the book from the wrapper. Spencer opened the hardcover and saw the copyright page.

"A first edition?" Spencer asked in disbelief.

Y/n and Garcia walked back in the bullpen, Y/n looked over to Spencer and smiled at him before she popped a gummy bear into her mouth.

"Okay guys, the FBI ball is next Wednesday. We just got a case, let's meet and discuss." Hotch said from the second floor.

Y/n followed Penelope to the meeting room and found a seat as the others filed in after.

"Ok, guys this case is in our very own home." Garcia started talking, throughout the meeting Y/n and Spencer took turns glancing at each other.

"Ok L/n you're with me, we'll set up here. Reid and Morgan go check out the first crime scene. Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss go to the recent scene." Hotch said as he closed his file.

"Y/n." Hotch said once everyone left and they began to set up the evidence boards that they had wheeled into the room.

"Yes sir?" Y/n asked, looking over to Hotch as she finished putting up the final picture on one of the boards.

"Did you like Spencer's gifts?" he asked, handing her some more things to put on the board.

Y/n smiled to herself as she hung the things he handed to her, "Yes, I did. Though, I can't wrap my brain around what those yellow roses are supposed to symbolize. They have multiple meanings such as friendship and/or falling in love." she said as she turned around and placed her hands on the back of a nearby chair. "Does that mean his note is 'go to the ball with me as friends.' or 'go to the ball with me because I'm falling in love with you.'?"

Hotch chuckled and shook his head with a smile. "Don't overthink it like Reid did." he said

Y/n shook her head with a laugh before she smiled up at him. "I think just because you said that I'm going to do just that."

Their friendly banter was interrupted by Hotch's phone ringing. "Reid, what did you find out?" Hotch asked as he answered and put his phone on speaker, Y/n listened alongside Hotch to what Reid was telling them. Y/n looked over to the map on the board, mentally putting points on it.

"I think I know where the unsub's comfort zone is." she said, moving away from the chair she was leaning against and began putting the points she envisioned onto the map for the team.

"Reid, Morgan tell everyone to get back here." Hotch said before he turned and looked at what Y/n was doing as he hung up the phone.

After a few days if run around by the unsub they managed to track him down. Y/n went into the warehouse with her gun drawn as she led a few SWAT members in.

"Thomas McDonald!" Y/n shouted, her gun drawn on the man who was holding a knife to the throat of a girl he recently kidnapped. "Put the knife down, and let the girl go."

Soon the team came in and the unsub backed down. They quickly arrested the man and the victim was given medical treatment. Y/n took a deep breath when she stepped out of the warehouse, Y/n shook her head to shake loose her thoughts before she looked at the woman sitting on the back of the ambulance.

"Agent L/n?" a medic called over to her, she looked over to the source of the voice. "She wants to speak to you."

Y/n walked over to the woman and sat next to her. "You saved my life." the woman said, grasping Y/n's hands.

"It wasn't just me." Y/n said as she rubbed her thumbs over the back of the woman's hands, turning her head to nod towards the team. "They all helped." Y/n whispered to her. The woman hugged her tightly causing Y/n to gasp in shock. Y/n hugged the woman back and began rubbing her back in a comforting manner.

"Thank you so much." The woman said. Y/n continued to rub the woman's back, not knowing Spencer was watching her comfort the woman.

"L/n." Hotch called out to her, causing Spencer to look away, as Y/n looked back to Hotch. She excused herself from the woman's embrace and came to join the team, standing beside Spencer. "You did a really good job of defusing the situation, " Hotch said earnestly, causing Y/n to let out a small sigh of relief. "Let's head back to Quantico and debrief."

Y/n and the team headed back to Quantico and began to work on writing their reports. Y/n sighed and rubbed her eyes for what she felt was the thousandth time, everyone had finished and went home. Spencer looked over at Y/n who yawned and rolled her head, stretching out her neck.

Spencer stood and began to grab his things. "Y/n go home, it'll be there tomorrow." he said to her as he walked past her desk.

"Oh! Spencer, yes I'll go to the ball with you on Wednesday." Y/n said as she smiled at him. Spence smiled back at her and nodded his head before he turned and continued walking to the elevators, leaving Y/n behind in the empty office.

The sun rose on the Monday before the ball. Y/n groaned as she lifted her head from her desk as she heard her coworkers enter the bullpen, she rubbed her eyes sleepily as she turned her head in their direction.

"Y/n did you sleep here last night?" Penelope asked as she walked in beside Derek.

Y/n stretched and yawned as she looked around. "I uh- must've fallen asleep after I finished my report." Y/n said as she rubbed her eyes again. "I remember putting my report on Hotch's desk and sitting back down to gather my things and I fell asleep."

Spencer walked in behind JJ, carrying two to-go coffee cups, smiling at the sleepy Y/n at her desk. "You slept here." Spencer stated, walking over to her, holding out one of the cups to her.

"No, I just decided to wear yesterday's clothes and not brush my hair." Y/n said sarcastically before she took a sip of coffee.

"Ouch, Y/n's got bite in the morning." Derek said with a chuckled to which Y/n gave him a death glare. "Oof meow." he said, gesturing a clawing motion with his hand.

Hotch walked in with a chuckle overhearing their conversation. "L/n, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia why don't you girls take the day, go do girl things." he said with a smile. "Just keep your phone on you."

JJ and Emily looked at each other in disbelief as Penelope squealed and did a happy dance. Y/n saluted with a sleepy look as she sipped her coffee again.

"Rossi, Reid, and Morgan, we all have tuxs to get for Wednesday." Hotch said. Spencer watched as Y/n gathered her things into her white messenger bag before she stood, slinging it onto her shoulder.

"Spencie, thank you so much for the lifeline this morning." Y/n said as she raised her cup in his direction.

"Y/n! Let's go, we've got dress shopping to do!" Penelope shouted from the door to the bullpen, causing Y/n to cringe at the loudness of her voice.

Y/n turned around and motioned her hand in a lowering gesture. "Penny sweetie, too loud." Y/n whispered as she walked over to her, and slung her arm around Penelope's shoulders after she switched her coffee cup to the other hand. "Let's go bitches." Y/n said with a laugh as they walked to the elevators, to go shopping.

Y/n sat in the dress shop, watching JJ, Emily and Penelope come in and out of the fitting rooms, trying on different dresses. Y/n turned her head as her eyes glanced go the burgundy she had her eyes on.

"Girl, go get it." JJ said as she watched Y/n, the dress she decided on, hanging over her arm.

Y/n looked back to JJ, biting her lip. "Should I?" she asked as she began playing with her fingers.

"Oh hell yes." Emily said adjusting the dress she was trying on in the mirror.

Y/n nodded her head in determination, before she stood and walked over to the display her dress was hanging on, flagging down an employee for help. Y/n waited by the dressing room as she watch the employee take the dress off the display for her to try on. Y/n walked behind the curtain after the employee handed it to her.

Y/n stood in front of the mirror inside the fitting room, as she ran her hands down the tulle bodice. She took a deep breath and turned to exit the small room.

"Oh my God!" All of the girls said when they saw Y/n in the dress. The burgundy tulle of the skirt flowed around her perfectly.

"Does it look ok?" Y/n asked softly as she adjusted the sleeves, turning around to look in the mirror behind her.

"Yes, you do." JJ said as she came up behind her, rubbing her shoulders affectionately. "Look if you do your hair up..." She said as she demonstrated showing Y/n what she meant.

Y/n bit her lip as she looked at her reflection as JJ held her hair up. Emily came up behind the pair and smiled, leaning over Y/n's opposite shoulder.

"You know I wasn't sure about you at first but I've changed my mind about you now." Emily said as she draped a necklace she saw on a display on Y/n's neck. "I saw this necklace and I thought it was perfect." she said as she looked up from the necklace on Y/n's chest to her reflection.

JJ stepped away from Y/n and Emily, and went to look for a necktie that matched the color of Y/n's dress for Spencer to wear. JJ dragged Penelope into the search after they both paid for their dresses and accessories. Y/n smiled at Emily when she stepped away. Y/n went back into the dressing room to change back into she came into the store in. Emily took the necklace she found for herself and the one she found for Y/n, along with her dress, and went to the register to pay for her items.

Emily waited for the girls by the door of the shop. Y/n stepped out of the dressing room, the dress she was getting, draped over her arm as she gathered her bag from the couch she was previously occupying. She went to the register to pay for her desk, smiling as the woman put her dress in a dress bag before she stood next to Emily by the door, waiting for Penelope and JJ.

Once all the girls were ready they walked out of the shop and out to their cars. "Hey girls, why don't you guys take your things home and then come back to my apartment for some drinks and take out?" Y/n asked when they all reached their cars that were parked near each other.

"You got a deal sister. I'll bring the wine." Penelope said giddily.

Emily chuckled and shook her head as she hung her dress in the back of her car. "I'll bring face masks." she said with a wink to Y/n.

"JJ, what are you bringing?" Y/n asked, watching the woman in question put her dress in her car.

"I'm bringing my love and support." JJ said as she opened her driver's side door, putting her purse inside of the vehicle. She turned to the girls, leaning back against the back door. "I will bring the steamy emotion-filled, romantic movies."

"Bring magic mike, please." Penelope said, giving JJ a pouty face.

Y/n laughed with a shake of her head as she watched the girls get into their cars and begin to leave. Y/n loaded her things into the back of her car, careful not to wrinkle her dress in its bag. As Y/n sat in her car about to leave the parking lot her thoughts turned to the roses she had Penelope take to her home while they were on the case.

She began to drive home, her thoughts now turning to think of what Spencer was doing.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!) 

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent,  the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

[wnb-o]

Twins of Twins (Beel x MC x Belphie)

hey yoooo. i got inspired from a satan(/levi) fic on ao3, and i’ve been wanting to write it down soooo, here it is. the part that i got inspo from is when MC was talking with satan (before and after canoodling, hehe) about pregnancy, and how dangerous it can be to conceive demon babies, even for female demons. so i kinda put my own take on what could happen. 

p.s., this piece is no way related to the work that it’s inspired from. this is my take on the idea of a demon/human pregnancy. also, this fic is part of one of my favorite series on ao3, and it’s got all the demon bros (belphie is not a love interest, however, but is included in the series), and diavolo and barb! it’s got romance, smut, drama, angst, and polyamorous relationships (consensual, ofc). honestly, it’s perfect. okay, imma stop talking now.

chapter warnings: language, vomiting, mentions of animal butchering, mentions of raw meat consumption

author’s note: pregnancy ain’t rainbows and sunshine, kiddies. nor is it how movies portray it. it is gross, raw, and it’s traumatic on the mom. but i applaud those who do, whether by choice or not.

italics: past

word count: 1,343

rating: 18+, r for future chapters

now, onwards and enjoy! (i’d also like to add that this is my very first fic for this fandom, and have not written anything else in quite a while, so critique is welcome)

______________________________________________________________

Being bedridden was not fun.

Not that it was by choice, though. The two little beings in my belly were the main cause of my bedridden state. I was huge by human standards, at five months. I looked more like I was almost at full term, with twins. Lucifer had told me that demon females usually only carry for five to six months, but with the babies being half-human, they weren’t really sure on how long I would be carrying. Although, it’s very possible that I would be delivering soon.

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer lightly knocked on my door, and called my name. “MC, it’s getting late, breakfast is getting cold... whatever’s left of it, anyway.”

I woke up very slowly, with the sudden urge to throw up. I could feel the acidic bile rising up my throat as I ran to my bathroom. Lucifer must have heard my retching, and announced that he was coming in my room. He came into my bathroom and immediately knelt to my side, rubbing my back in hopes to comfort me.

“Feeling better?” he asked, as I finally stopped heaving.

“Yeah, it just came out of nowhere,” I said, wondering if I caught a stomach bug. “Do you mind getting me a glass of water, please? There should a cup in the towel cabinet, from the tap is fine,” I ask him, still kneeling in front of the toilet, and spat out whatever remnants were left.

“Of course, darling,” he says, standing up. Just as he opened the cabinet door, I saw a glimpse of a box of tampons, and my stomach dropped again. Not enough to puke again, however.

“Here you go,” Lucifer turns to hand me the glass of water, and notices the complexed look on my face. “What’s wrong, do you need to throw up again?”

“I need my phone,” I say, as I stand up. I kind of wobbled on the spot, but Lucifer reached out to steady me with his free hand. “Thanks.”

I grab the glass and down it as fast as I could (at a reasonable pace, of course), and stepped out of my bathroom to look for my phone. It was usually where I left it, on the nightstand that was next to my side of the bed. I open my phone and check the calendar, trying to count the days of my last period.

Oh, shit.

I turn to Lucifer, with a worried look on my face.

“Lucifer... I’m late.” I whisper.

______________________________________________________________

Satan kept check on my well-being, making sure that he was following everything to the book on human pregnancy (and demon pregnancy), and then some. He and Lucifer had educated me early on how a demon pregnancy usually progresses. Satan also had to do further research on any possible demon/human reproductions that might have happened in the past. He found a few actual sources, but they weren’t very legible, nor were they pretty to read about, once deciphered.

Then he had to do more research on the female anatomy, and all the little (and major) changes my body will go through, and compared it with the demon female anatomy. “I need to do as much research as possible, MC. If I miss anything, it could be a matter of life or death for you, and none of us want that.” Awww... and yikes.

The only significant differences that he was able to find out about was the pain tolerance experienced during birth, the length of the pregnancy, and the cravings. I still got human food cravings, thank God (or is it Diavolo?). But I also got serious cravings for raw meat. Like, actual straight from the source, meat. It was challenging, because we had to determine what kind of raw meat that I (or the babies, in this case) was actually craving for. Turned out to be a type of mammal in the Devildom, much to my dismay. But Beel was able to provide it for me, bless his heart.

Belphie helps him in cutting up the mammal, and he’s always complaining to me about how much work it is to butcher up a 2,000-pound mammal. Although, Beel mentions to me (without letting Belphie know) that Belphie does the task with a smile and a hum. Beel asked him once if he enjoyed doing this, and Belphie simply replied, “As long as the babies are healthy and she’s happy, then I’m happy.” It warmed my heart to hear Beel slip that piece of information with me.

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer had called both of his younger twin brothers into his study a day later after the incident. He had to make an impromptu trip to the human world to pick up a few pregnancy tests. I asked him if there were any in the Devildom, to which he replied, “Even if there were, I wouldn’t want anyone to see me purchasing them. It could tarnish Lord Diavolo’s reputation and his plan for restoring bonds over the realms.” Of course, he would say that, damn him (again).

 His gaze was fixated on the couch I sat on, an angry and contemplative expression on his face. He wasn’t glaring at me, though. No, it seemed as if he was trying to put holes on the empty spots on the couch, spots that will soon be occupied by two certain individuals.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Lucifer says, in an ominous tone.

Beelzebub was the first to enter, with Belphegor dragging along behind him.

“MC, what are you doing here?” Beel asked with a smile, and sat on my right side. Belphie plopped himself on the available side on the couch, and kissed my cheek. “Hey,” was all he said.

“Hi,” I replied timidly, to which Belphegor and Beel noticed right away, that something was wrong.

Belphie looked at my face for a while, to which I ignored to the best of my abilities. He fixed his gaze on Lucifer when I wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “What the hell is happening?” he asked Lucifer, with a tone that clearly said to not beat around the bush.

Lucifer stared straight back at Belphegor. “She’s pregnant.”

______________________________________________________________

Lord Diavolo and Barbatos had found out about it, naturally. Anything that happens in the Devildom never seems to slip past them. And boy, were they not impressed. A meeting was scheduled to be held at the Prince’s castle A.S.A.P., in regards to how to proceed with the pregnancy. The twins, Lucifer and I were summoned for this meeting.

“I ought to punish them for doing this to MC, Lucifer. You know how dangerous it is to rear demon children,” Diavolo said loud and clear, and glared at the twins with a disappointed look on his face. Belphie and Beel both kept their eyes on the table they were sitting in front of, both of them expressing their guilt for what they’ve done.

I raised my hand, “Excuse me, but just how dangerous is it?” I asked, feeling slightly stupid.

Diavolo sighed heavily, and rubbed his eyes in a frustrated manner.

“Rearing demon children is a very risky business, even for demon females. Because of the raw nature of their infancy, it is a danger that is considered fervently, first and foremost,” Barbatos explains in a cold tone. “As strong as we are as demons, the unpredictability of an infant demon could be disastrous for the mother, if not properly planned for.”

A chill went down my spine. Not properly planned for? What the hell does he mean by that?

“You say that it’s dangerous for even demon females... what about human females?” I ask, although I had an idea, but I didn’t like it.

Barbatos is quiet, gazing at me with a pitied look. I hated it.

“There have been very few attempts, before Diavolo’s reign, on demon and human reproduction... they never ended well. For the human involved, anyway. They always died.”

I took in a shuddering breath, and looked down at my stomach. Could this being really kill me, unintentionally?

______________________________________________________________

dun dun dun... this is originally gonna be longer than i intended (whoops), and i’m also not sure if i like the format i’m going with (jumping from present to past, and vice versa). but this is how a majority of my stories and ideas play out in my head, and writing it out like this makes sense to me, lol. i’ll try to be back with a pt.2 soon, might be up sooner if the fic is well-received :P stay safe out there, lovelies!

another author’s note: the other brothers will also feature in future chapters! also, i feel that i must warn that i WILL be writing about a very graphic birthing scene, and it’s gonna be gory (yay demon babies, jk). if that makes any of you uncomfortable, i’ll put out a warning in the chapter before the scene starts out so you can skip it.

[cyn-00]

Moreid one shot, 6 - "way past that"

Season 7, episode 20 "The company" (the one where Derek finally finds his cousin Cindi after years she had been missing but her family had no proof of her death. At the very end, when Derek, his sister Sarah, his aunt, Cindi and her son finally gather and hug)

We love some unrequested long ass but hopefully not boring fic. Basically a follow-up to the episode, definitely not one of my best works...

Also bad news: I've just started season 8 which is the one where Reid has that thing going on with Maeve, so A) I'm gonna be depressed and frustrated for a whole ass season + B) there probably won't be any Moreid inspo here and there so I'm sorry but I probably won't write fics during this one :( I could still do some throwbacks to older seasons though, I'll see what my big (?) creative (?) brain can do

Read it on AO3

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

Reid was watching the scene through the blinds of the room him and the rest of the team were, chatting and finally relaxing while reordering their things, ready to go home.

He could clearly see, even from far away, that Morgan had teary eyes - but they weren't tears of sadness, nor anger. They were ones of joy and relief. Derek's aunt was hugging Cindi's kid, Derek was talking with his sister Sarah.

The young genius was totally immersed. He was so moved and happy that Morgan could finally let go of all the rage and uncomfort he had been burying inside for the past days - to be fair, those feelings had been there for months - he didn't even realize he was lopsidedly smiling to himself, like an idiot.

Everyone was getting out of the room with their hands full of stuff.

"You better pick your things up cause I wanna go home and sleep, and I'm pretty sure everyone agrees with me when I say that we won't regret leaving you here..." Emily said to him, jokingly.

"Yes ma'am, we do agree." Rossi responded.

"Mh mh." Reid mumbled, without shifting his eyes an inch from the view, barely hearing what the others were saying.

JJ sighed, resigned to the fact that he would probably be in there for another 30 minutes. "Alright. Bye Spence!"

-

The room was now empty. Reid saw Morgan looking at the team leaving, like he was awakened and brought back to the real world.

His eyes finally met Spencer's for just a split second, and in that moment Spencer immediately stopped looking, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

He coughed and clumsily stood up from the desk he was sitting on, starting to pick up his stuff with no specific order. Just to make it look like he had actually been doing something for the past 10 minutes, instead of watching Morgan like it was the most entertaining thing ever - it kinda was, to him. No matter the context.

Derek knew he had been looking all along. He simply didn't wanna look back at him, in the attempt to avoid drawing his sister's attention to Spencer as well.

Mission failed. 

"What you looking at?" Sarah asked after a few seconds of him being clearly distracted while she was talking.

Derek's eyes shifted back to her, raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth like he had something to say; but no valid excuse came out.

His sister turned around and saw it. She saw what had been distracting him for the past 5 minutes: Doctor Spencer Reid, sorting out his stuff in the other room. Now that the others had gone away leaving the doctor alone in there, there was nothing convincing enough Derek could say to dissuade her from gathering that he was looking at the pretty boy in the other room.

Reid looked up at the two for a second and waved at them, wearing his usual cute-kinda-awkward smile.

Sarah waved back, giggling at how geeky he was. "So...you gonna invite the guy over to dinner or something? Ever? In your lifetime?"

Derek sighed, still looking at Spencer. "I wish. It's not up to me, I don't think he'd be comfortable with that."

"C'mon why not? We've loved him since day one just like you did." she paused, recalling a memory she wasn't sure if sharing with her brother. She quickly decided on doing so.

"As a matter of fact, Desirée was the one who predicted something was up with you two just by the way you talked about him." she smirked.

"...I always talk about every member of my team. I talk about Penelope a lot. And Emily." Derek answered, frowning, like he took what his sister said as an accuse of some sort.

"Yeah, but that's different..." Sarah pointed out.

Derek didn't answer: she wasn't the first person telling him that he'd always talked about Spencer in a "different" way, since the beginning, when he hadn't even figured out his feelings for him yet. He'd come to the conclusion that he probably did that without even noticing.

There were a few seconds of silence - enough for her to notice that Derek had got back to looking at Spencer. She affectionately put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Go."

"I-I'm sorry sis, he's been trying to ignore me for the past two days on purpose cause I've been nervous all the time and I've been acting like a dick, honestly-"

"I know, I know, I imagined that. You owe him. We're fine." she gave him a kiss on the cheek and headed closer to her aunt and cousin, to intrude their conversation and give Derek a reason not to feel guilty about leaving her like that.

-

Morgan entered the room. Reid heard his footsteps but didn't - couldn't - turn around: he was stretching over the table to try and reach a pile of documents. He managed to pick it up and started to browse through the papers distractedly, while turning around to face him.

"You know, I was thinking that maybe-" He STARTED talking.

Derek cupped his boyfriend's face in his hands and kissed him impulsively, making Spencer breathe out a faint moan of surprise and chaotically put the files back on the desk right behind him. It took all of his physical strength and the remaining amount of attention he wasn't paying to that hot kiss not to just drop the files on the floor.

He wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and leaned closer. Without even thinking of how inappropriate that must have looked, his hands snaked under the other's t-shirt, lightly stroking his back.

The moment he felt Spencer's soft touch on his skin, Derek got goosebumps all over his body. He put a hand on the back of Reid's head, involuntarily messing his hair up, and started leaving quick kisses on his jaw and behind his ear. He knew that was a huge turn-on for him. Exactly the same way Spencer knew how huge of a turn-on was for Derek when he ran his fingers up and down his back - or abs; oh, the abs.

Spencer gasped, keeping his eyes shut. In the attempt of trying to stay on his feet, he put his hands behind him, trying to hold himself onto the edge of the desk.

Wrong move: his hands knocked off the pile of papers, spreading them all over the table and the floor. That was what - maybe luckily - interrupted the dynamic, which was clearly proceeding toward a not-suited-for-work direction.

Derek stopped teasing Spencer and rested his forehead on his, breathing heavily.

"...shit " Spencer whispered, chuckling.

"Maybe I should've closed the door." Derek said, shaking his head.

"And the blinds." Spencer added, nodding his chin toward Sarah, who immediately jerked her face the other way because she'd been caught peeking at them with the corner of her eye, from the lobby of the police dept. Derek snorted and shook his head - again.

Spencer sat on the desk, letting his feet wiggle 10 inches from the floor; still absent-mindedly looking at Derek's family through the blinds. He was sure that they had to get moving, but also didn't want one of the only moments of intimacy the two got during the day to end; even though said "moment of intimacy" eventually turned out to be Spencer yawning every 30 seconds, approximately.

Derek silently stared tilt-headed at his boyfriend with a smile printed on his face, for what seemed like an eternity, laying his eyes on everything they could reach: his gorgeous side profile; his slightly furrowed eyebrows; the golden curls that almost reached his shoulders; that absolutely nonsensical but all the same weirdly charming way he used to wear his wristwatch too loose over the unbuttoned cuff of his shirt, instead of beneath it like normal people; the collar of his wrinkled pinstripe button-down, too large to adhere properly to his slim neck. Derek rested his hand on the side of that neck of his, half entangled in his hair, caressing the very edge of his cutting jawline with a thumb.

"You know," Morgan interrupted the silence and Reid finally looked up at him with his big, brown eyes.

"Sarah asked me if I was gonna invite you to dinner one day."

Spencer smiled awkwardly and raised his brows, surprised "She did?". Derek nodded.

"Wow- I'm- I'm flattered..." he stuttered in response, half-heartedly.

"...but?" Derek got serious.

"There's no 'but', it's just- you know. I thought your family saw me as the weird and awkward kid, just like...well, everyone, really- which is totally true by the way I don't mean to play the victim or anything."

Derek laughed. "Yes, they do."

Reid frowned. Was there something he wasn't getting?

"But they love you like that."

Spencer looked away, smiling shyly. Derek cupped his jaw in one hand to make their looks meet again - he understood that Spencer loved it when he took his face like that by how he immediately gave him those eyes, every time. The adorable eyes. It worked like magic.

He bent over to whisper in his ear.

"I love you like that."

Spencer was already closing his eyes and melting in Derek's warmth, expecting one of his kisses. But Morgan wanted to tease him a little bit, so he backed away from him and walked toward the door with a smirk on his face, leaving there both Reid AND the mess of files they dropped on the floor.

"Wait!" Spencer squeaked when Derek was already on the threshold of the door.

"Nuh-huh pretty boy I ain't gonna help you with that mess. Besides: it's your fault, it's not like I pushed you or anything" he said jokingly, still wearing that smirk that made Spencer's whole body blush.

"Yeah- no, actually, it's not about that, though you could help me since we're already late and it IS kind of your fault- frankly though, it's totally your fault, what did you expect me to do? You were utterly over me, physically-"

"Baby. I was joking. What was it?" Derek interrupted the flood of words coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah sorry, uhm" he paused, his brain trying to start working again after crashing for a second at the word "baby".

He kept his eyes firm on Derek's face with his mouth open - though no words came out at all - fidgeting with his hands like he always did, not knowing what it meant to stay still. Derek raised his brows in a way that meant: "I'm listening...?".

"Why- why aren't you mad?" Spencer finally said, choosing the simplest and less mistakable way to say it.

Derek frowned. "Mad? At you? For wha- wait, did you do something I should be mad about?"

"Nonono not like that it's just, I haven't really talked to you in the past few days. And I should have been there for you with all that was going on."

"You WERE there. Just like anybody else."

"Exactly, and I should have done something more, instead I acted just like anybody else on the team, but I'm not anybody else otherwise this- us, we wouldn't make sense... right?" he waited hopeful for his boyfriend's confirmation, but his expression remained the same. "So I thought you would feel betrayed in some way, I don't know if you do feel like that and you're not telling me to not make me feel...guilty, but- but anyway I'm sorry. I'm really sorry that I acted like I don't have any responsibility to you."

"Kid" Derek said softly. "we're way past the whole 'I'm here for you if you wanna talk' thing. I know that you are, and I chose not to talk about it more than we were already doing on the job. We both bear a responsibility to each other and we always both respect that" he paused. "You worked on the case, you gave me space, you hugged me when I needed a hug. That's all that matters to me and you know it inside that big brain of yours."

Reid looked like he hadn't even heard half of the talk, gazing at him with heart eyes.

Morgan paused again, expecting some sort of answer, which never came. "What? One minute you're all sorry and the next you're looking at me like- like that." he raised his hand to point toward the face he was making. "What's up with you?" he asked jokingly after a few seconds of silence.

"So we're way past that uh?" Reid quoted him timidly, like he had to make it official.

"Waaay past that." Morgan answered with an eye-roll, playing along, knowing where that was going.

"So we're...serious. Aren't we?" he questioned rhetorically, biting his lip and looking down to fake-concentrate on fiddling with the hem of his sweater vest.

"Yes, genius boy, we're serious."

Spencer nodded shortly and turned around to hide his smile; finally deciding to - once again: clumsily - pick up the files and randomly stuff some of them in his satchel, while he kept the others in his hand. If he had done that with any criteria at all, they would have all fit in the bag: that was what Derek was thinking, looking at his messy boyfriend try to un-mess things up; wondering if maybe he really should've considered offering a hand.

-

They both finally got out of the room, 20 minutes later, but Derek's family was still there. He stopped walking and grabbed Spencer's arm to make him do the same.

"Imma wait for Hotch, I'll catch up in a minute."

"Alright" Spencer nodded.

"Yeah wait, first I gotta ask you one last thing..."

"...sure" Spencer squinted his eyes, pronouncing the word slowly. Derek looked a teeny tiny bit nervous, which was unusual, to say the least.

"Does your mom know? About...us? About me ?"

Spencer grinned knowingly. "Why are you even asking, you KNOW that I tell her everything."

"...so...? "

"So I've been telling her about you since the second I met you." he paused, giving him his sweet smile. "She knew where this was going before I did." By 'this' he clearly meant them.

Derek looked down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in the attempt to contain a chuckle.

Spencer wanted to kiss him. But they were in the main lobby, there was Sarah not so far: he didn't know if Derek would be okay with it.

He hesitated a second to look around and then gave him a quick peck at the corner of his lips, so quick nobody noticed. But as soon as he pulled away a little, Derek cupped his face and kissed him way deeper. In that moment, Reid understood that Morgan really didn't care about showing everyone that they were a thing. Not even his family. He was more than just not ashamed of it - he was proud.

Spencer could have gone hours kissing like that, but he stopped. "Alright- you're gonna make me drop the files again" he mumbled breathily against his lips, smiling.

Derek laughed and shook his head, finally letting Spencer go and following him with his gaze as he walked away.

-

He looked over to his sister: she was smirking. She had been looking at them all along. Nice.

Derek scratched the back of his neck and turned around, already regretting kissing Spencer in front of them: he could only imagine the amount of embarrassing questions expecting him at the next family dinner. To which he would also have to take Spencer with, at that point.

Hotch finally got out of an office where he had been talking with God knows who about God knows what for the whole time Morgan was with Reid. He always had to do the boring, bureaucratic stuff.

"Morgan. Have you been waiting for me this whole time?" he asked, in the most ironic tone he could pull off - which wasn't THAT clearly ironic.

"Yeah- no, actually, I was- nevermind. We good to go?"

"I was kidding. I know you were talking to Reid."

Derek nodded, looking at his feet, like talking to Reid was something to keep secret. Problem is, 'talking' wasn't all they'd been doing in the other room for 20 minutes.

Hotch frowned: he sensed something was wrong - mistakenly. "Is everything alright with you two?"

"...why are you asking? Should I know something?" Derek returned the frown. Apparently, that day people thought it was real fun to say confusing things.

Hotch sighed. "Reid wanted to apologize to you for a thing. He only hinted it to me but I can guess what he was talking about."

Derek breathed out, relieved. "Yeah. There was no need to apologize but you know how he's done. We're good." he answered, trying to hide a smile that said: we're REAL good.

"Thank God. When something is wrong between you two it's a mess." Hotch smirked with an eyebrow raised, using that same "ironic" tone from earlier, which came off as such only to the team because they knew him enough to resign to the fact that that was the most ironic it could ever get.

Derek snorted, smiling, without asking for an explanation: he knew exactly that the way the whole team functioned on the job got fucked up big time when there was tension between Spencer and him.

Hotch casually patted his shoulder. "Alright, let's get on the jet already. They're all probably asleep by now."

[kewltie]

How do you come up with so many new ideas for stories? I feel like I’m constantly stumped and stuck with cliches (and while those are fun and I absolutely love them) I can never really think of something to make it my own? When I see your writing I feel like you’re able to take cliches and make it your own so much it no longer feels like one, I’m always so worried about making a story to similar to another when trying to put a spin on a classic trope, also! Hope youre doing okay during this time

hi anon!!!

such a good question to bring up! for me, personally, inspiration comes really easy bc im really easy. that sounds weird but i basically consume any form of media across various genres that would catch my interest. i read, watch, play (games mostly lol), etc and maintain a variety of interest in like all sort of things so i pull ideas from a lot of diff places. like, i REALLY REALLY love animals and nature documentaries so i like to incorporate that into my stories w/ in the form of post-apocalyptic mermaids au (what happen when majority of humans leave earth and those left behind returns to the oceans bc i watch a fake nature doc about mermaids which are apparently sea ape and how how all live originate in the sea) or plant au (where the earth is living entity and try to take back the planet w overgrown murderous plants and descend into a world of nature taking REVENGE etc). i also really REALLY like watching doc about history of conquered so that influence my writing a lot lol. so yea, i take inspo in all these media i consumed and turn it into something i want to read. so having all these various interests that are all over the place i dont have a problem jumping from one genre to the next and never really get bored! you can see me talking endlessly about the various media i have consumed (i.e shoujo/shounen/yaoi etc manga/webtoon, asian dramas, games, tv shows) and im always open to new ones too!! being open minded to try out things not in my comfort zone was such a huge help for me and now im like ok that sounds cool i’ll try it lol. 

also, i really what i call genre mashing like combining two things that dont usually go together automatically like ??? post apocalyptic mermaids??? the princess bride but steampunk?? OR beauty and the beast au in space?? LIKE all are ideas i have talk huge amount about bc i love putting familiar ideas and throwing it some weird wild settings and just HAVE FUN. if you have something you think been done a millions time before (which is not WRONG AT ALL) just think how you could do it different this time around or look at it in a diff perspective. like, i wrote a hundred arrange marriage royalty au AND I APOLOGETICALLY LOVES THEM and each time im like i already did desert setting so i’ll go for some winter setting this time around; or i’ll make them childhood friends last time, i’ll go for enemies; in other fic i explored theme of duty vs heart, now i want to explore war themes etc so like i dont intentionally try to make it diff but i just think how the story & chars may go if i take on a diff direction and sometimes that little change can have a rippling effect and turn into a whole diff story. so yea, dont be afraid to ask yourself WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF–? bc who knows where it take you! 

this also translate to when im reading fanfics of other ppl and I READ A LOT. LIKE A SHIT TON. if im not writing im usually reading something. when im reading other ppl’s fic i get to see their take on certain tropes or how they address certain that i may really like a lot and i want to tackle it on my own but that also lead to if i run into a branch in the story where the author does it certain way but i think myself hmm…. what if this happen the other way and THAT GIVES ME IDEA. like, dont let hold yourself back from reading other fanfics bc you’re afraid you get similar ideas when the whole of fandom is about inspiring each other. inspiration =/= carbon copy. i openly talked about my ideas all the time and not possessive about it bc sometimes ppl would ask me if they can write something base of it and i 99%  say yea go ahead bc the way they write it would be diff from how i write it even though it’s the same concept, how i write the chars & the themes may be diff from how they view it. you can HAVE THE SAME IDEA BUT DIFF EXECUTION. that’s the most important part!!! it is not plagiarizing bc seeding an idea is like part of fandom and it becomes trend a lot the way ABO gets around the fandom like wildfire lmao. 

last but not least, be THE FIC YOU WANT TO READ. this is why you usually see me starting a conversation w a i really, really LOVE/LIKE etc and ramble away about an idea and how it’ll go. a lot of my stories are a reflection of my interests like how im always talking endlessly about kingdoms, war, and rulers and conquerors bc im just really fascinated by it lmao /o. and there’s also all those single parents fic i wrote bc i deeply empathized with it due my childhood being raised by a single mother. and there are times when things that matter to me i put in my stories, like im hitting my 30s soon and im still single. i think i dont mind being like that but i want to have children so how would that work out?? things that plague me in real life i address in fics in term of surrogacy & sperm donation bc it’s something i consider about wanting a family when you’re single and dont have a partner. every fic or idea i have ever written or talk about you can see my fingerprints all over it bc they’re things i deeply, truly care and am interest about that i want IT TO EXIST IN THE WORLD so i write it out. i algo get really annoyed when im there’s a trend in fandom to take a trope in certain direction and i just dont like it lmao (i.e. villain!deku im more focus on izuku getting his redemption and how & yandere au  WHEN THEY ARE EQUALLY CRAZY ABOUT EACH OTHER) so i put my frustration and complaint into a fic. you can see this clearly in a lot of my ABO fics where i tend to put omegas often on top bc that’s just my particular taste. i dont try to buckle trend just to be contrary but i do it when my taste doesn’t match theirs and ya know be the fic you see in the world basically lol. just bc something is popular by the mass doesn’t mean you have to follow it even IF YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKE IT, let assure you’re wrong. there will always be someone who taste clicks with yours OR you can persuade them just by writing a kickass fic and just stand by what they wrote. sometimes, i find myself falling in love with a story i would never consider reading at all bc i dont like the trope or themes just bc the writing is v v v good or the writer CLEARLY LOVE WHAT THEY WROTE THAT THEY PUT THEIR HEART AND SOUL INTO IT and i can see it in their writing and im swayed. so yea, don’t think of putting a new spin on old cliche but try to think of as making it your own by doing it how you WOULD GO AT IT. how would you write the million abo fic? what do you like to see? HISTORICAL, SCIFI, FANTASY? how would you categorized ABO?? go for classic alphas rules society and omegas are lower class? or do the total opposite?? like DON’T FORCE yourself to be diff, just let it come to you and im sure you’ll be able to make it your own bc look there’s like a million fics on ao3 AND EVEN MORE THAN MILLION original novels in real life. you’re not going to invent anything new that had never seen before so dont try be diff but be yourself and soon you’ve have something that is solely your owns and nobody else and that’s the best advice i can give. 

a;sjdf;as sorry this is such a incoherent mess but i LOVE, LOVE cliches just as much as i like trope breaking them and it doesnt matter where you fall on the line as long as you can enjoy what you create that’s all that matter! i hope whatever i said help you out a little and lighten your worry just a bit. and thanks for the question bc it really is intrestingl !!!!! and i hope you’re staying safe and please take care bc im doing ok for now lol!!

[akamaiden]

“You have a nice butt, Sir”

A/N: Well, this is just me writing something for my beautiful angel @stanclub 💕 This wasn't exactly requested but we all should take a moment to appreciate Steve's butt. Also a big thanks to @tropicalcap I was stuck into this fic and thanks to her playlist I found the inspo to write it. Go follow both Amanda and Gigi you won't regret! 💕🌺

Gif belongs to: @captainamerica1-6

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Warnings: Steve's butt (trust me this is a HUGE warning). This was supposed to be a lazy morning sex and turned into a rough sex with a clear Dom!Steve, idk what happened lmao

Words: 2,065.

You wake up but different from the other times you don't find his side of the bed cold. You brush your eyes, forcing yourself to wake up definitely. You grab a cup of water that's always on your nightstand, another one of his many exigencies.

“You need to he hydrated, m'love. Drink more water, c'mon”

You drink a sip of the water and then lay down on the bed, turning to him that is sleeping so peacefully.

You smile again seeing that you took your blanket – the one you were suppose to share with him – all to yourself.

But he doesn't seem to care, though. One lock of his beautiful, soft and blond hair falls over the most beautiful eyes you ever saw. His eyes.

You're staring and you know it. But is there a way to not stare when it comes to him?

Your admiring gaze falls over his pink plump lips. God, you love to kiss him. The simple acts lights a fire inside you.

Those broad shoulders and strong arms. You love when they're wrapped around you. People always say that “home is where your heart is” and you just understood that, in its entire meaning, when you met him.

And it was just like this that you met. He came from nowhere save you from your certain death. He wrapped one arm around you, while the other held his shield high.

Cliche? Well, it was extremely cliche. But in the moment when your gazes met you knew that the cliche was left far behind. You almost heard the click when your eyes met those cerulean blue eyes. It was like the world stopped for a moment, just for the two of you.

“You–” you two said in unison.

He chuckled and you blushed.

“You should go to the shore,” he said.

“Yeah, I-i... Thanks,” you said and started running away from him, following his order. Following Captain America's order.

Steve shifts on his place and let out something between a groan and and a hum.

You freeze, you don't want him to wake up now. If he didn't wake up to his usual run with Sam, you don't want him to wake up so soon.

Your eyes continue their expedition on his body, admiring his back and then look at his butt. God, his butt. You wanted to slap it, to palm it, to caress it. You have a huge thing for butts, but thanks to Steve your kink – if this can be considered like one – was in a whole new level.

But obviously you never told him and don't plan to do it, like ever. You want to bury yourself in the deepest hole just by thinking in tell to Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain Fucking America that you have a weak spot for butts and specially his butt.

“You're staring,” he says.

And remember that hole? You want him to swallow you down right now.

“S-steve, I-i didn't–”

“I'm just not sure what exactly you were staring at,” he says interrupting you.

You feel deep inside your bones that he's 100% sure that you were looking at his butt, but he wants you to say it out loud.

“Your butt,” you say shrugging but your voice doesn't sound so confident like your posture.

“Yeah, sure,” he says getting closer to you, wrapping his left arm around your waist, pressing your bodies together.

You feel your heart hammering your chest and the worst is that he can literally hears its beating. You blush wildly and avoid his intense gaze.

He chuckled before saying, “Can you give me one cup of water? I'm kinda thirsty.”

When you hear his words, especially thirsty, you press your thighs together because suddenly a pool of arousal is settling in your womanhood. And he probably knows that too.

You swallow dry trying to undo the knot formed in your throat before saying “If you excuse me.”

He smirks and let you get out of his embrace to hold him the cup of water he was saying he needed.

Steve drinks the water in silence and you use this distraction to got to the bathroom and do your morning routine and try to ignore this awkward and embarrassing situation.

Once you're back in the room Steve stands up and go to the bathroom as well, but he doesn't say anything, much to your relief.

When he's back you look at him about to ask why he didn't wake up to meet Sam like he does every common morning, but the words never come out from your lips because you simply lose the ability to form coherent phrases once you see his grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. They weren't like that minutes before, right?

“You can't keep running away from me, sweetheart,” he says in a low and deep voice.

“What you're talking a–”

“No, don't even try. It's okay... Now I know that I was wasting my time being sweet to you, holding back, ya know?” he interrupts you.

Part of you is happy to hear such things but the other part? Is definitely scared with this sudden change in his behavior. But you also can't deny that his dominant side excites you in one blink of an eye. So why not give it a try?

“Now why don't you make up for the lost time?” you suggest.

“Oh trust me, sweetheart. I'll make up for it,” he says while doing his way towards you slowly, so damn slowly, but his gaze... Well, his blue eyes are now darker, pupils dilated. The look in his eyes is saying nothing but desire, passion and lust. So much lust.

“Well, I–” and then his mouth covers your, muffing your words with an eager kiss. That is summarized in teeth, tongues and moans.

His body is covering yours, pressing your body with his own that is all muscles. You let your hands wandering around his neck, his shoulders and waist. You caress, scratch, palm, press and pull him even closer.

Steve's right hand is in your neck, not choking, it's just there firmly, but not enough to cut your breath. And then his hand moves to the back of your neck, makes its way upwards and pull your hair, making you break the kiss. His grip is firm, it's enough to make you arch your body a little, exposing your neck to him.

“Ah! Steve,” you say panting, out of breath, maybe because of the kiss or because the hair pulling.

He ignores you, keeps sucking at your pulsing point, making sure to leave evidences of what's about to happen. He bites your neck, lick at it. The only thing that makes him stop, for a fraction of second is the noises he lets out when you're digging your nails in his skin.

“Are you trying to make me come just like this?” you stutter a little.

This makes him stop and he groans hearing the whining protest that fall from your lips when he does it so.

“If I wanted you to cum, you'd cum a hell earlier before. But since you're so fuckin' eager, we can skip some steps,” he says and rips your panties into pieces.

You gasp in surprise but following his lead, you try to get rid of your camisole. He almost tears his sweatpants apart to free his full erect cock. You moan only seeing the precum oozing from its tip.

“Do you want to suck my cock, don't you sweetheart?” he provokes you.

The way he says “sweetheart” makes you shiver. It's not sweet like he used to call you. It's filthy, and you love it.

You nod your head while licking your lips.

“Words, Y/N,” he demands and slaps your thighs.

You yelp in surprise but the sound quickly turns into a moan.

“Yes,” you almost purr.

“Yes, what?” he says nestling himself between your open legs. His fingers casually touching your excitement that wets your sex and sticks into the bedsheets.

You think for a second, what should you say? Captain? Sir? Daddy?

“Yes, I want to suck your cock. Please, Sir,” you try.

He smirks and guides the angry tip of his cock to your clit, which he starts circling it slowly but firmly.

“Let me make clear to you, sweetheart. You don't give the orders. Do you understand me?” he commands.

“Yeees. I-i am sorry, Sir,” you moan rolling your eyes shut.

“Not, you're not. But you'll be, sweetheart,” he says and before you can say something else he's inside you.

“Shit!” you yell.

“Language,” he mocks you and then lifts both of your legs and puts them supported on his left shoulder.

He doesn't move, though. He's waiting on you so he can starts thrusting into you.

“Please, Sir...” you moan.

You don't need to ask twice, he starts moving in and out of you, and this new position allows him to touch you in all the right places.

His hands grip at the soft skin of your legs firmly enough for you to get marks, but you're craving for it. You want him to mark you, no matter how.

“If I knew it,” he growls.

“Steve, I-i...” you want to talk that he was so deep into you, but so deep.

“That's not how I want to be called, sweetheart,” he snakes a hand through your body, touching the valley between your breasts lightly and before you can ask him, he wraps his right hand on your neck.

“Sir,” you purr.

“See? You know how to treat me darling,” he says.

Honestly you want to punch his ridiculously gorgeous face, but you don't find the strength to do it so. His thrusts are deep and hard, with the amount of pressure to make you tremble once he's filling you to the hilt.

“So fuckin' tight,” Steve says to no one in particular.

“Sir,” you moan desperately, biting your bottom lip, eyes roll shut, all the sensations overwhelming you.

“Wants to cum?” he asks when he feels your pussy clenching around him.

You nod, incapable of saying much more.

“Open your eyes,”

It's an order. A clear order that brings you back to earth, because you're clearly too busy focusing in not to cum. You want to wait for him.

“Please,” you moan once you find clouded blue eyes looking at you. Dark eyes drowned in lust.

“Please, what? Think you deserve to cum?” he asks and then his left hand finds your clit. Where he starts circling in a fast pace, matching his thrusts that make your body move.

“Please, Sir,” you beg shamelessly.

He chuckles and stops choking you so he can slap your thighs harshly. You let out something between a yell and a obscene moan.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he says involving your neck once again, squeezing it tightly, stealing your breath away.

This and one particular thrust right against your g-spot are everything you need to find your release. You guide your trembling hands to his butt. You palm, squeeze and scratch at it, bringing him even closer to your pulsing body.

Steve's arms find their way to your body, he hugs you while he growls and fill you with his hot cum.

He starts kissing you while you come back from your high. Once you're able to talk again he asks, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, of course no Stevie,” you say and kiss his neck.

“We should uh–”

“Do this before?” you ask nervously.

“Yeah, we should,” he says and kisses your hand.

Steve never thought that one day he'd find someone like you to share his life with, someone who he can count on blindly.

“I almost can here your thoughts, babe,” you say. 

He chuckles, “Sorry. I never imagined to meet someone like you.” 

“It's okay,” you hug him and continue “Can I say something?” He nods. 

“You have a nice butt, Sir,” you tease. 

“Thanks,” he says and you chuckle seeing his embarrassed expression. 

“Come, we need a bath,” you say before kissing him once again. 

“I think I can get used to wake up like this,” he says playfully. 

“You perv,” you say but Steve interrupts you before you can say something else. 

Now that he doesn't need to hold back anymore, he wants to show you a few things.

Tags: @ivarsshieldmadien @nothingeverdies @dangerousvikings @amour-quinn @deepdarkred @time-travel-bouqet @thisishowdynastiesareborn @feistybaby @lokigoddess

[fatbottombucky]

A Stark Is Born *Prequel to That’s Stark’s Boy*

Summary: Peter listens to the story about how your parents met and the story of why you stopped contact with Tony.

Grace Hart is an up and coming Agent to the FBI, although mostly on desk duty due to not following instructions, she’s on a mission to protect the most sort after man. Tony Stark, recently taking over his dad’s company, Stark makes it difficult for Grace to keep him safe. A story about how true love, but how loving each other is easier when they aren’t together.

Pairings: Tony Stark x Grace Hart (Miss Congeniality OC!) & Peter Parker x Male!Reader & Tony Stark x Pepper Potts

Warnings: Swear words, violence and drinking. It’s Angst, but fluff too. Sex is mentioned, obviously. But I’m not writing smut for this.

Word Count: 2745

Authors Note: Sandra Bullock is in no way how YOU should picture the mom. She’s simply an OC I created, the mom is a mixture of a bunch of Sandra Bullock characters, and I’m using the actress as INSPIRATION. You do NOT have to picture her as Sandy B, but she is an OC and therefore I will be using the name Grace for her, you’re free to place another name for the mother. It’s the same with all my fics, I leave it open to interpretation. I only use gifs as inspo and decoration, they’re not meant to depict how the reader/ the mother should look like.

Chapter Two/ Six

Grace knew this job would be difficult having to take orders from a billionaire, especially when she could be out actually trying to get the guy, instead, she got babysitting duty. By all means, it should be easier but it isn’t. It’s like Tony wants to be killed or something, he’s always attending parties late and bringing home strangers (mostly women). If Tony gets killed whilst she’s on the job, she’ll get fired, Grace knows that because it’s her duty to protect this man.

The schedule given to her is hardly his actual day, he spends most of it down in his work-lab, that she isn't allowed in or he goes out- requesting she does all the work Pepper usually does. It’s like looking after a child, a child that thinks he’s in charge and can do as he pleases, but yet has responsibilities that he refuses to acknowledge. All it took was two days, two days for Grace to flip.

“Get up.” Grace sternly tells the sleeping Stark, he groans as she commands Jarvis to open his black-out blinds, “you’re not having me attend YOUR meetings for you, you have to go to them and I’ll come along with you.”

Tony sits up and rubs his eyes, scowling at the woman before him. Dressed in a lilac blazer, matching pencil skirt and arms crossed. The look reminded Tony one of which his mother used to wear, it made a chill shoot up his spine. A small part of him didn’t believe she was a simple PA, from her steely glare and her eyes always scanning her surroundings. It’s like she was looking for some form of trouble, always on guard and, usually, PA’s don’t have a ‘fuck off’ attitude. They’re meant to be welcoming and always happy to help and do, yet Grace is different.

Tony thought better to argue with the woman, deciding to get out of bed and dressed. Grace averted her eyes away as he searched for clothes, throwing on some band tee and jeans. Running his fingers through his hair quickly, turning to Grace with a smirk.

“You’re attending a meeting for a multi-million dollar business,” Grace began, “and you’re attending in a band-tee?” Grace sighed when Tony only shrugged, grabbing a dark navy blazer and throwing that on over it. “well, hurry up and find some shoes, we’re going to be late.”  

Grace walks out of Tony’s bedroom and releases a long sigh, she isn’t scared of him but telling a billionaire what to do or even being stern with him… felt slightly terrifying. She didn’t want to push her luck and have him fire her, then how is she meant to protect him? 24hr surveillance outside his house? She’s done that before and it killed her back having to sleep in the back of a car.

Tony exits his room, with a grumpy frown, she would’ve told him to have a shower but they didn’t have enough time, but he still reeked of whatever alcohol he was inducing the night before. The smell of sweat, booze and perfume lingered on his skin, it was a little hard to breathe around him. Grace pulled out a pocket-sized perfume spray, spritzing it on him as they walked to the car.

“Will you stop that?” Tony harshly slapped her hand away making her almost drop the perfume.

“Well if you were a responsible human I wouldn’t be having to spray you just to make you smell, somewhat, lovely.” Grace snaps back, “thank you, Happy.” She kindly smiles at the man she had gotten a little closer with.

Turns out, Tony would rather drive himself places - when he’s sober, at least- Happy often drives behind Tony being his security detail, they have a close relationship, almost sibling-like. Happy is the only person Grace has come across that has anything nice to say about Stark, apart from the obvious brown-nosers, the people that want something from Tony, Happy seems to really know him and still attests to the fact Tony is a good man.

The drive is long and silent, “So… what is this meeting about?” Grace asked, eyeing Tony from the side and toying with her hands in her lap.

“Just Stark Industries stuff, future of the company and so forth, you know, we’re making weapons for the government so it’s best to keep on top of legal stuff,” Tony explained and Grace nodded along. “I’m CEO it’s good for me to attend these things, I prefer the little events we do, the testers and reveals of the latest weapons.”

Grace chuckled slightly, “CEO, really?” Tony only nodded his head, “but you’re only thirty.”

He simply shrugs, “Please, don’t remind me.” Grace held her hands up in defence, “That’s what happens when you inherit a company, I was only twenty when my parents died. I wasn’t old enough to run the company, so Obadiah Stane was CEO till I turned twenty-one. He’s been friends of my family for years, he mostly attends the meetings and does all this boring stuff.”  

“Must’ve been difficult for him to hand over the company back to you,” Tony frowned and looked at Grace, who only shrugged, “I’m just saying being CEO of a company, only for some twenty-one-year-old know-it-all take over. Think I’d go insane,” Grace joked and snorted loudly before calming down.

They both walked inside the Stark Industries building, Tony nodding ‘hello’ at a few employees. Grace hung a little behind, feeling a tad out of place. A big part of her praying that she’ll get a phone call saying they caught the guy, that she can stop and go back to her normal desk and be an Agent again.

“Tony?” A deep voice carries across the building, “I didn’t expect for you to turn up.”

Tony shakes the taller man’s hand, a smile on both of their faces. “Yeah, well my temporary personal assistant insisted I attended today.”

Grace gives a little wave, Stane only nods in her direction before putting an arm around Tony’s shoulders and walking him towards the meeting room. In a deep conversation about the company and other things that Grace doesn’t care about, her eyes scan the room of the faces. Anyone of these people could be working for whoever wants to take Stark down, she’d have to remember to get the team to look into every Stark employee.

It’d be quicker to ask JARVIS but she didn’t want to raise alarm bells to Tony, despite the technology being at her fingertips, she had to be smart about this. Listen to instruction and just keep Tony safe, no searching or prying for the person; priority is Anthony Stark.

“Oh, she can wait out here. Usually, you don’t attend, since you’re here, no one has to take notes.” Stane smiles and leads Tony into the room, shutting it on Grace’s face.

She scowled at the door for a moment before turning and sitting on a chair, crossing her legs and huffing loudly. She pulled the skirt down a little, grumbling under her breath. She’s used to pant-suits, not skirts and dresses- thankfully, she hasn’t had to wear a dress, yet. Whoever Miss Potts is, she’s a saint, that’s for sure. Having to deal with Tony all day, every day: it’s hard work. Honestly, she couldn’t wait to go back and just do desk duty again.

“How are you holding up?” Happy’s voice breaks her out of her mind, she sighs heavily and crosses her arms causing Happy to chuckle. “It’s not so bad working for him, you’ll get used to it.”

Grace scoffs, “I hope I never have to, I just can’t wait to go back to being an Agent again.” Graces eyes scan over everyone again, “have you done background checks on everyone that works here?” Happy nods, “do you have any ideas on who could be doing this?”

Happy shakes his head, “The list of enemies for a Stark is… long, believe it or not. Being a billionaire kinds puts a bullseye on your back.”

“What about that Stane guy?” Happy scoffs loudly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “I get a weird vibe from him, especially since he used to be CEO then Tony took over. Imagine putting your life's work into something, only for the bosses son to get all the glory.  Plus in the short while, Tony has been CEO here, he’s really made this place flourish. That type of-”

Happy shakes his head, “It’s not Stane. He’s been friends with Howard for years, he’s really helped Tony steer this company and lead him. He’s the last person that would want Tony dead.”

Grace could only nod at what Happy said, yet a gut feeling told her to look into the man. She couldn’t rule anyone out till she checked herself, even though technically it isn’t her job to do so, part of looking out for Tony was making sure the people he had close were safe. Despite not wanting this job, she’s going to take it seriously and that means going all in.

It was half an hour later that Tony finally exited the meeting, a group of men all in suits all following behind. Laughing at some joke that must’ve been told, Grace instantly stands and begins to follow the crowd of men. The loud chatter of business and pleasure being apparent, Grace rolled her eyes and followed silently.

“It was nice to see your face in a meeting for once,” Stane chuckled as Tony walked up the car, “I have your assistant here to thank.” He extends a hand to Grace, she smiles tightly and shakes his hand, almost instantly letting go when she could. “Look after this guy, he’s a little wild but don’t let him push you around.”

Grace nodded, “I’ll be sure to.”

They all get into the car in silence, Happy driving Tony home in silence. Grace sits staring out of the window, her mind preoccupied with a million thoughts.

“Hey, Happy, can you drop me off at the Burger King coming up?” He gives a little nod, “I’m gonna need a burger and fries to make it through today.” She mutters mostly to her self, ignoring Tony who is staring at her.

Tony can survive an hour without her, he’s going home with Happy, who she trusts will, and has been, looking after him. The car pulls into the carpark and Grace gets out, smiling when she sees it’s hardly packed inside. Before she can walk she hears two more car doors open, Tony stepping out along with Happy. Tony doesn’t say anything only starts walking towards the food place, Grace quickly catches up and Happy follows behind.

“I haven’t been to one of these since college,” Tony muses and Grace raises an eyebrow. She mostly gets take-out or some form of fast food; late nights at work often meant easy food. Tony steps up, the server looking a tad shocked over Stark ordering food, “What do you want Happy?”

Happy squints as he looks at the menu but instantly says, “I’ll have a Whopper meal, extra large and a diet coke.”

Tony nods, “I imagine that’s a good choice, I’ll have the same.” He then turns his attention to Grace, who just shrugs and gets the same. The server passes three large cups, Tony grabs one of the cups and walks over to the machine and places it under the diet coke one.

“Wow,” Grace amuses, “surprised you remembered how one of these works.”

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I am not that far removed from society.” Tony grabs a straw and begins to sip, watching as Grace adds ice cubes to her own drink.

Grace gave a disgruntled look, “No. But you only attended a private boarding school in Europe, where they have ‘house mothers’, not that far removed at all.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “So, you’ve read up on me. I can’t help the fact my dad wanted me gone for the duration of the year.”

Grace was about to apologise but Happy came over with two trays of food, a big smile on his face. Leading the two of them to a nearby booth, where they sat and started to tear into their food. It’s silent as they eat, a few people taking photos of Tony in Burger King, probably, a little shook up over the fact he’s even dining here.

“So, Grace tell me about yourself,” Tony speaks up and looks at her with raised eyebrows, curiosity in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

Grace glances at Happy for a second, “Well, I grew up a tough neighbourhood. I have two older brothers, I don’t see much of them because working - it’s difficult to find off time, you know? My parents divorced when I was seventeen, I haven’t seen my dad since and my mum died when I was nineteen.”

Tony nods slowly, biting into a fry, “What do you do in your spare time?”

Grace chuckles and raises an eyebrow at Tony, who simply smiles and shrugs. “I do nothing, I have no hobbies or interests. Seriously, I’m a workaholic and I don’t have any friends outside of work because it’s hard to keep them when you have no time for anyone.” It falls silent again, “what about you? You must have more friends than just Happy and Pepper.”

“James Rhodes met him back in college and we have this brotherly-rivalry that has lasted up to now,” Tony smiles and Grace nods, “good guy, you’d like him actually. He’s very… responsible and always tries to make me take life seriously.”

Grace frowns, “You should take life a little more seriously, Tony.” He only rolls his eyes in response, “You work and social life, you should take that stuff seriously. It’s gonna come to a point where you’re not gonna know what’s going on in your business, and you’re CEO.”

It goes back to being silent again, only it’s mutual silence that is sometimes broken by Happy commenting on something. You finish the meal and head back to Tony’s where he goes straight to his workshop, Grace wouldn’t see him for a couple hours now. Deciding to get to work on “emails”, mostly any intel they found on Stane.

**Two days later**

Five days of looking after Stark and it was surprisingly getting easier. Although he still went out and partied a lot, it was much easier to figure out his whereabouts with the tracker she placed in all his shoes. Every move he made, she knew about it.

“What do you mean there’s nothing?” Grace snapped down the line to Matthews, who had left his vacation early to be in on the mission. “His assailant is still out there and I’m just one person, Matthews. If anything happens to him…”

Matthews chuckles down the line, “Sounds like you care about this guy.” Grace sighed, rolling her dark eyes, “Do you know if he’s been sent any more threats?” Grace sighs a ‘no’ down the phone, “seems they’ve gone silent, probably, planning their next move since the helicopter stunt didn’t work. Keep your eye out, Grace. You’re not the only one looking out for him, by the way. Colonel Rhodes made us put more men on security detail, they follow his every move too.”

Grace let out a sigh of relief, “Good. Just… keep me updated on everything, got it?”

“You bet, don’t get him killed, Hart.” The call ends and Grace sighs heavily.

“Who was that?” Grace jumps and swiftly turns to face Tony, “on the phone? Who was that? You looked pissed off.”

“Just a friend, he’s having trouble at work, like I could help him or something.” Grace snorts with her laugh, high-fiving herself for thinking fast for that lie.

Tony only nods and chuckles, “Okay. Well, tomorrow you’ll be meeting me and Happy for shopping, I’ve got this Gala thing and I have to attend. I need help on suits, you good at that type of stuff?”

Grace raised her eyebrows at Tony, he never normally asks for her opinion… on anything. Maybe these past couples of days, spending most of the day together has meant she’s earnt his trust and approval. He’d normally leave her and have Happy go with him, Happy promising her to keep her updated on everything that’s happening.

“Uh-sure, I know a bit.” Tony nodded with a half smile, before walking back inside his house.

(The first part can be viewed over on my blog, just scroll down a little bit and you’ll find it or can be found on my That’s Stark’s Boy masterlist. Let me know what you think about this, thank you - Rosalie)

[ignaeflos-blog]

TAGGED BY: ooo she stealin ¬.¬ TAGGING: if you think erwin deserved better and/or you’ve eaten some form of potato in the last week ~

* GETTING  TO  KNOW  THE  MUN :

NAME :   Blaire NICKNAME : A bunch ; most frequent is actually a mispronunciation of my name used by my family; literally ‘Blah’ ; another embarrassing one is Bloom which i use as my pen-name - story behind this is so lame omg (two words : winx club) FACECLAIM :  don’t use one ~ (should i?)  rn im feeling mymate jake ^^^ PRONOUNS :   she / her HEIGHT :   153cm / 5′ -.- BIRTHDAY :    9th September  AESTHETIC : massive grey & jewel toned hoodies , weak autumn sun , vans slip-ons , snapbacks , anklets , buttered toast , blanket fortresses , dawn skies , double rainbows , cocoa butter , magpies , dried lavender , small , retro backpacks , dead winter flowers , 24hour chippies , moleskins , grid paper , smoking wood , half-shoes , orange lipsyls , vintage colour palettes , japanese prints , dog-eared victorian classics , red noses & fingers , off the shoulder bombers ~ LAST  SONG  YOU  LISTENED  TO :   Takeda Lullaby (lool I was searching for a song for Mrs A’s blog) FAVORITE  MUSE (S)  YOU’VE  WRITTEN : Only just started writing Mrs Ackerman & naturally i’ve invested far , far more into Nina so it kinda goes without saying my daughter takes the cake for this one (although im hella looking forward to developing Kaori too ~)

* GETTING  TO  KNOW  THE  ACCOUNT :

WHAT  INSPIRED  YOU  TO  TAKE  ON  THIS  MUSE :  Heard of snk years ago when my little sister was raving about it & i was like meh another over-hyped anime hahahaHA was i wrong i mean like, the hype was WELL worth it so I stuck my toe in & ended up drowning (idk if i regret it yet lol) ANYHOO, back when shit was simple & the only thing they had to worry about in snk was killing the titans , it was still established that the last surviving humans were solely made up of those within the walls who were , to my extreme confusion , 100% white caucasian (save for Mikasa & her mum) & i was just like yooo I knowyoufuckinlyin bc aint no way every single black/brown person just got devoured (like come on titans don’t see colour lool) & truthfully , that was the main reason I didn’t get into snk at the beginning (ik im a salty bitch k) SO YEAH that was half of my reason for creating Nina & raising the roof (she says) with a little diversity ygm. but the MAIN reason was bc i was hella HELLA into the lore & the origin of the titans (which was what eventually sucked me back in- that & anime crack x<) & i got so into it that i started writing a fic in an as spin-offy-ish way as possible i.e. where there is virtually no diversion from the canon plotline ~ & I needed a single person who’d seen it through from the pseudo-beginning (or who was tied to it in some way) for the reader to follow on a more personal level. then THAT blew hella out of proportion & I ended up planning her  journey far into and beyond the marley arc & forging relationships I never thought she’d have. I’ve always loved reading you guys’ writing & I found myself wanting to see , more realistically , how canon characters would react to Nina - when I say realistically, I mean without my control or influence bc in the fic , I’m basically  directing how interactions go. Also she’s my baby & I love her

WHAT  ARE  YOUR  FAVORITE  ASPECTS  OF  YOUR  CURRENT  MUSE :  I love her capacity to just get on with shit & idk if this is necessarily a good thing but nina has this ‘i dont give a damn’ attitude ingrained into her being, in a way that is quite liberating for her personally. After living through certain experiences , she has thrown all protocol , all decorum or just anything that ‘should be done’ to the dogs wind be it in the way she speaks , the stuff she does , they way she engages with people. BUT this doesn’t take away from the fact that she knows & recognises what things like duty & loyalty are , their importance & who she owes these to. I love her flippancy , her complete intolerance of bullshit , how she doesn’t wait for explanations when she sees real wrong/ something that bothers her which again isn’t always the wisest choice but still. I love her indisputable drive despite everything about her screaming the opposite , how when she decides something is going to be done , she’ll do it or die trying - I could go on forever honestly so I’m gonna save this for another post/ character study ~

WHAT’S  YOUR  BIGGEST  INSPIRATION  WHEN  IT  COMES  TO  WRITING :  Oh my , so many things ; a LOT of inspo is from everyday life & people I meet i.e. the phrases they use , the way they strike me ; I’m also very drawn to poets like armitage & pullman’s stuff as well but it really isn’t apparent at all in my writing. I LOVE dickens but again that’s not bait either um yh that’s thing with me with other people’s writing - i can love it to bits but I don’t always actively draw inspo from it (not any that you can see anyway) but honestly i’m just a potato who scribbles random bs that i sometimes like from my head :D

FAVORITE  TYPES  OF  THREADS :  I love dark/gallows humour or even just good old-fashioned comedy (i like to laugh ok) , give me angst or give me death , ‘rough’ fluff i.e. where one person really doesn’t want to fluff but can’t help themselves or where they show affection in a way that wouldn't really be seen as affectionate usually , human psyche discussions are also my shit ~ I really can’t think of anything I DONT like tbh, so

BIGGEST  STRUGGLE  IN  REGARDS  TO  YOUR  CURRENT  MUSE :  Organising her thoughts ; i find this difficult because Nina’s thought process i.e. when she’s carrying out a specific task, is very focused & kinda 1D ; at the same time when she’s ‘ at rest ‘ (look what physics has done to me) she will have a million other things racing through her head whilst having the situation at hand at the forefront & even then those ‘other thoughts’ are usually all to do with a certain blueprint she’s drawing up mentally or a thorough once over of the person before her/ her surroundings ; so although Nina appears to be a very distracted individual she really isn’t unless she finds a concrete plan for some machine & is in the process of building it/ is under stress). I find this very incompatible with my own thought process which is all over the fucking place & I dissociate/depersonalise a lot whereas Nina (ATM) has a very strong sense of self idk it’s something I’m working on ; I also have loads of qualms about whether Nina is a good character i.e. whether she’s interesting or original enough & even though this is dumb, whether people like her lol :’)