#just imagine how soft his voice would get

[mommynott]

Slick Surfaces

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Your first date with the hockey player ends up back at the ice rink and things seem to get a little slippery, not that you or Theo are complaining. This is my hockey!theo series. If you haven’t already, head over to the first part!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, modern AU, pro hockey au, hockey!theo, nipple play, teasing, oral, pussy eating, masturbation, mutual orgasm, praising, dirty talk, semi-public, Theo being the munch he is

"Come on, you'll see…" Theo held a sly grin on his chiseled face, leading you into the empty ice rink. The dim lighting casts a dark and romantic ambiance over the vast space. You two had just finished a dinner date and Theo had surprisingly brought you to the arena. Why are we here?

Following him, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty lingered within you. "Seriously, why are we here?" You asked through a cute giggle, scanning the space around.

Your voices echoed around the rink, he was leading you up the stairs of the bleachers, the chilliness evoking something between you both. “I’m going to show you…Just how fun hockey can be…” Your heart skipped a beat, was this going to lead to something?

Theo continued walking you toward the top of the bleachers, his smirk growing wider as he guided you onto the highest tier. "See…" His ocean blues met with yours while he gestured towards the ice. "…just the two of us…In the rink…No one around to interrupt us…"

It was obvious Theo was hinting at something more but fuck. You didn’t mind it. Not in the least. The date you two had together was absolutely perfect. Better than you could have even imagined.

“You’re right…just us two…” Whispering back to him, you could hear the sultry tone dripping out with ease. Theo reached out and took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours before scooting closer to you.

Not many people would think that a hockey arena could be romantic…sexy… but Theo did. In fact, bringing a girl here and ravishing her was a fantasy he always had. He just had to play his cards right…”You have the most beautiful eyes, Tesoro…” He husked, his face growing closer to yours.

At this point, you swore you could hear your heart pounding in your damn head. “You really think so?” Theo’s gaze flickered between your own, that same sly grin twitching on his lips.

“Oh, I know so…”

A low and deep growl rolled smoothly from his lips. His Italian accent seeming more prominent. But he didn’t hesitate any longer. Theo had been holding off the whole date. —Which was extremely difficult in the first place.

His free hand cupped your cheek roughly before smashing his soft lips to yours. Fuck. “Cazzo- Your lips…so fuckin’ soft.” Murmuring between the kiss, his tongue teased the crease of your lips, practically begging for an entrance.

“F-fuck” The softest little whimpers escaped your throat while the steamy kiss deepened into an intense make-out. Theo’s needy cock was rock fucking hard already, your panties a dampened mess.

Snaking his hand from your cheek, he wrapped it within your silky smooth locks, pressing you closer to him. But the other hand? It remained locked with yours. Feeling his thumb slowly grazing over your soft flesh. “You taste fuckin’ divine, bambina…”

The foreign pet name skated from his lips, both of your breathing getting heavier as the sensual yet rough make-out session only seemed to escalate. Theodore slowly began to lay you back against the cold metal bleacher.

“As do you, Theo…” your voice breathy and light, Theo could already smell the arousal wafting all around you. Only kicking his animalistic instincts into overdrive. His lips sloppily trailed down from your own. Across your cheek…

“Let…”

His hungry kisses fell from your cheek to your jawline. Taking his tongue and dragging it from the end of your lobe all the way down to your chin.

“…Me…”

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps pricking down your body as he swiftly dropped his mouth to the side of your neck. Sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. Surely leaving little love bites on his journey.

“…Taste…”

Soft moans were now freely spilling from your swollen lips, tilting your head to the side, giving Theodore better access to you. Your hair sprawled across the grey metal. He licked down to your collarbone, his free hand reaching up to grab one of your breasts, firmly massaging it as he groaned from the feeling.

“…All of you-“

Those dead eyes of his seemed to grow darker by the second, staring up at you as the hand that once locked with yours rubbed up and down your thigh. Waiting for your answer, knowing this could be risky.

“Please…gods- please fucking taste me.” Aching, begging Theo for more, you could see the smirk growing wider on his face. The dim lighting of the rink casting an orange glow across his features.

“That’s my girl.” Those words made your stomach do a backflip. His girl. Fuck. With that, Theodore yanked down your V-neck. Your lace bra on display but he quickly dug your tits right out. His mouth fell all over them, eagerly finding your swollen and perked nipples.

Trying to keep quiet for the low chance someone would walk into the rink at this hour, your back arched while your fingers playfully tugged at his brown waves.

You could feel his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers twisted and tugged on the other. “Be loud for me, bambina…” He husked against your tits, now letting your moans naturally flow out.

Theo started to do a sucking motion with his mouth, your nipple swelling up as the pleasure began to bubble within you. No words could be made out, simply just taking in all the hockey player had to offer you. His. You were his tonight. And no one would stop him from devouring you. No one.

He sat up for a moment, looking down at the sloppy hickies plastered all over those perfect tits of yours. A prideful yet dangerous grin painted over his face before he took both hands, flapping up your mini skirt. “W-what are you-“

Your words cut off the second Theo softly dragged his pointer finger down your soaked lace panties. “Needy are we?” —God. Fuck yes I am. Your body shuddered beneath him at the tease. Feeling his fingers creeping over the side of the material.

“-Little bit…”

Cooing out, you couldn’t help but softly laugh at your own words. It was clear as day that you were a fucking wet mess for Theo. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, taunting you with his devilish stare.

“Only a little bit….huh, Tesoro?” Smirking down at you, his eyes never left yours. His jaw clenched momentarily just as he ripped your panties to the side so roughly that the material tore, the sound rippling around you both.

Theodore’s gaze dropped to your leaky little slit, glistening on full display for the player. His brows furrowed while his lips parted. Weakly falling to his knees as if he was in a trance from your pussy. —He was.

“Okay…Maybe a lot a bit.” Another seductive giggle freed from you, spreading your legs apart for him. The way he admired you, melted for you, had you going fucking wild.

“Cazzo…You have such a pretty pussy…”

Breathing his thoughts aloud, he let his slick fingers tease down your wet cunt. Seeing just how turned on he had gotten you. The compliment was swirling in your mind, feeling your ego get a major boost from it. “Do I now?”

Bucking your hips toward him, you let your own hands squeeze your breast together, his bottom lip dropping more. “-Fuck yes.” Speaking so quickly, he was aching to taste you. All of you. With ease, he threw his team hoodie right off, handing it to you.

“Here…For your head. want you to be comfortable and relaxed, Bella.” Smirking, he watched as you took the hoodie. His thick cologne still wafting around it. Feeling the apples of your cheeks flush, as dirty and raunchy as this moment was he still had a sweet side. A soft spot for you.

Laying the hoodie underneath your head, Theo nodded in approval. “Thank you, you’re-“ Again, you had gotten cut off, your body going into a euphoric shock.

Slapping your thighs even further apart, Theo immediately buried his face between your legs. Hearing a pleasurable groan mumble through your warmed core. “Fuck!—“ You cried out, feeling his tongue vastly dance around your swollen little bud.

God, he was fucking good. Already so fucking good. “Just as I expected…” Theodore trailed off, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit purposefully.

“…You taste fucking delectable…deliziosa-“ He growled into your soaked flesh, finally flicking his tongue slowly across your clit. His stare burned up into yours. Watching your every reaction. Hearing those loud moans of yours was giving him all of the confirmation.

Progressively, he licked faster, snaking one of his hands down to his jeans to unzip them, pulling out his throbbing cock. “Fuckin’ Hell…”

The groan that guttered from his lungs, along with his bicep muscle flexing like crazy, you knew he was pleasing himself, getting off to eating you out. “Gods— That’s fuckin’ hot”

Whining out through your loud moans, your hand gripped tighter in his hair. Theo quickly took your other hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he pressed his face further into you.

“That’s it, Tesoro…Use your words…Tell me how good it feels...How much I turn you on”

Speaking through his laps, his tongue was twisting and swirling in unimaginable ways. Little did you know, Theodore was spelling his name with his tongue. Over and over again. “I-it’s so good! Fuck— You’re so good!”

The sounds of Theo’s hand slapping up and down his massive length were only fueling your arousal. With each praise you gave him, the faster he seemed to go.

“—Mmmm” Theo was absolutely slurping you up, his lips suctioned right around your clit, keeping them parted ever so slightly so his tongue could flick with great speed. Sending your body in a vortex of desire and ecstasy. “Just like that- Fuck, Theo!”

Your moans were now turning into screams, his hand stroking up his precum-covered cock even faster than before. But never once did he remove that darkened ocean gaze from you. Taking you all in.

Sucking a tad bit harder on your little bud, you could feel your legs start to tremble, the pleasure dripping over the edge. But not just for you. For Theo too. “Finish with me, bambina-“ He spoke into your drenched folds, squeezing the hand he was holding as he jerked himself off faster and faster.

“Yes!- Yes!- Fuck!” Throwing your head back, your thighs closed against his head, heaven washing over you.

An earth-shattering orgasm hit you, feeling your wetness squirt out onto Theo’s tongue. At the same exact time, Theo’s groans rumbled against your drenched flesh, his seed spilling out all over his hand while he quivered from his own orgasm.

But he didn’t stop. No. His tongue lapped up your sweet nectar. Drinking all of your delicious juices up as if he had just walked through a desert and was quenching his thirst.

“T-Theo! Fuck— I-I’m so sensitive! Please-“

Your entire body convulsed while he munched down on you, slowing his pace and his tongue moving in longer strokes. A deep chuckle heard from him, he was loving this. The sensitivity he had given you. Reaching his cum covered hand to your mouth, he finally pulled away for a moment.

“Open, Bella.” A demanding tone released as he spoke. You didn’t even think about it. Wrapping your lips around his smeared fingers, tasting his sticky seed.

Watching as you bobbed your head up and down his fingers seductively he could hardly contain it. “Such a good girl…Cazzo…you’re too fuckin’ sexy.” Through a growl, he smacked down a few messy kisses along your thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that…”

You whispered, biting back a giggle, the afterglow starting to hit you as you let out a happy sigh. Theodore was about to reply when suddenly a loud boom of the main doors opening and closing was heard, followed by a few distanced voices.

“Fuck! Come on!” He whispered in a panic while he helped you put yourself together, shoving his cum covered cock back in his pants. Grabbing your hand, Theo led you over to the other side of the bleachers, careful to not get caught by whoever had roamed into the brisk rink.

Both of you getting a rush of adrenaline, but even through that rush, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Even through the anxious feelings. You knew the fun had only just begun.

Pt.2 hehehehe Theo just LOVES munching on us in every au Istg, @amiableness had the best idea and I love watching it slowly come to life🥹 Next part maaaay contain some locker room fun for a little good luck 👀

Love my smut sluts, as always asks and requests are open💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙

[dissapointu]

hiii can i request a fic of the reader having a crush on viktor but theyre too dense to realize that viktor reciprocates the feelings so they try setting him up with someone but viktor only wants them? <3

“Just a bit Dense” (viktor x reader)

You had always been the kind of person who focused on fixing others rather than yourself. Whether it was patching up bruises or tweaking machines, you were always the one in the background, quietly doing what you could. Viktor, however, was the one constant in your life, the one person whose intelligence and determination captivated you. He was kind, brilliant, and compassionate, and he had always taken the time to notice the small things about you.

But you didn’t see it. You were too thick-headed to realize Viktor’s subtle glances, the small touches that lingered just a bit too long, or the way he leaned toward you during conversations. You were too busy convincing yourself that you were just friends—just colleagues. That’s what you told yourself every time your heart fluttered at his smile, or when your face grew warm after a few too many innocent exchanges.

You noticed, of course, the way others seemed to admire Viktor too. His brilliance, his charm—how could anyone not? And that’s why you had a plan, an idea that had been brewing for weeks: if Viktor was going to be swept off his feet by someone, it might as well be someone who would appreciate him like he deserved.

So, you decided to play matchmaker.

One evening, while you two were working late in the lab, you casually mentioned someone you’d been thinking about. “You know, Viktor, I met someone today,” you said, carefully watching his reaction. “They’re really nice, and I think you’d get along great.”

Viktor paused, his pen still in hand, his attention fully on you. “Is that so?” His voice was soft, almost amused. “And who might this person be?”

You described them, knowing full well Viktor wasn’t quite as perceptive about relationships as you were. “They’ve got this brilliant mind, and they share so many of your interests. I think you two would make a perfect pair.”

Viktor set his pen down and looked at you, his eyes sharp with an intensity you didn’t understand. “I see.” There was a moment of silence as he watched you, and you couldn’t help but shift under his gaze. “But… what if I’m not interested in them?”

You froze, blinking. “Oh, come on, Viktor, don’t be shy. You’re a great catch. They’re a great catch. I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy.” You laughed nervously, your heart racing as you shifted in your seat. You weren’t sure what to expect, but Viktor’s reaction didn’t seem to match the excitement you’d imagined.

He leaned back in his chair, his hands folding together, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You’re quite the matchmaker, aren’t you?” He leaned in a little closer. “But the thing is… I’m not interested in anyone else.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Viktor’s smile softened, and for the first time that night, you saw something in his gaze that you had never noticed before—something almost shy, but incredibly sincere. “I’m only interested in you,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the warmth that spread across your cheeks.

You blinked a few times, your mind racing. “Wait, what? Me?” You couldn’t fathom what he meant. “But… I’m just your friend, Viktor…”

He shook his head slowly, leaning forward now with a hint of vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re more than that to me. I’ve been trying to show you for some time, but… you seem to be rather dense about it.”

You were caught off guard. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. All the times he’d touched your arm, the gentle conversations late into the night, the way his eyes lingered on you—it all clicked in your head like a jigsaw puzzle finally coming together.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, and Viktor chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush your cheek with his fingertips. “It’s alright, my dear. I know it’s a lot to process. But I’m not looking for anyone else. Just you.”

Your mind raced, but your heart… your heart was already telling you what you wanted, even if your brain was still catching up. You bit your lip, feeling like an idiot for not realizing sooner. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”

Viktor smiled, a mixture of amusement and warmth in his eyes. “It’s alright. I’ll give you some time to process it.” He pulled back slightly, but not entirely, his gaze still focused on you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

The weight of his words settled in, and you finally allowed yourself to breathe again. Maybe you were a bit dense, but with Viktor, you knew you were safe to be a little slow to realize the obvious. And in that moment, it felt like the world was finally in place.

Viktor had always been the one who patiently pieced things together—his machines, his plans, and now, maybe… your heart.

[sanriovin]

hear me out on this one y'all.

imagine yourself coming back home from a hard day at work, right? all overwhelmed, exhausted, annoyed at the world, and so on. as soon as you walk into your shared room though, you see a sight you weren't expecting in the least.

your husband, kento nanami, jerking himself off.

poor man, on his one day off, which were EXTREMELY rare for him, you, as luck had it, had to go to work :( and he was all needy and desperate for you, resorting to masturbating, which he never did often, even more so after the two of you became a couple.

his big, strong, calloused hand from the type of jobs he was involved in, wrapped nicely around his aching, pulsing cock, fisting himself, as pathetic, desperate groans and moans of your name and how good he was feeling left his lips, as his hips bucked up further into his hand from the pleasure he was feeling.

his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, head lolling back into the soft, welcoming pillows, dressed in a gentle linen pillowcase, undoubtedly not even realising that you had came home. the sight before you stirred something inside of you, making the exhaustion and annoyance from the day disappear completely, instead, replacing it with a feeling of your own neediness, and a sense of pride, seeing how your husband could fall apart. it gave you ideas. MANY ideas.

"Kento?" you spoke from your spot at the door, your eyes trailing down your husband's half-nude form; his trousers and boxers gone, his tie loosened, three tops buttons undone from the top.

hearing your voice breaking through the sounds of his ragged breathing, loud grunts of pleasure, and the occasional moan or two, his hand came to a stop, his eyes opened wide, looking at you, with shock, embarrassment, and shame. he couldn't even bring himself to hide his body, in a state of processing what had happened.

placing your bag down on the dresser near the door, you took one step, then another, then another, as you approached your shared bed, your eyes locked onto kento, not looking away for even a mere second, in fear that you would miss even the slightest reaction from your normally composed husband.

he swallowed harshly, audibly, slowly moving his hand away from where it was nicely wrapped around previously, placing it down on the linen clad duvet, averting eye contact with you, his cheeks flushed a soft pink, from either the embarrassment, or the physicality and feelings that masturbation brought, or both?

"I'm sorry, darling, I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon." he spoke a quiet apology, seeming genuine with it, but how could you even be mad at him? or how could he even think you would be mad at him?

shaking your head, you moved yourself down onto the bed, situating yourself in between his thighs, watching how his adam's apple bobbed with nervousness and excitement, how a dribble of precum ran down his dick with every tremor that ran down his body.

"You're sorry for what, Kento?" you asked, the question being more of a chastise for him even thinking that he needed to apologise for this, rather than an actual question. in all honesty, seeing your husband like this, undone into a puddle of desperation and lust, was something you would kill to see on a daily, so you were definitely not complaining.

taking a single finger, you trailed it down his thigh, inching closer and closer to the one spot that was the key to getting rid of all his frustrations and stress, even if just for a day. he let out a quiet sigh, watching you with eager eyes, silently pleading with you to do something, anything, to relieve the pulsing ache.

"Do you want me to help you, Kento?" you, once again, gave him a question. your voice was sweet, soft, as if lulling him into a sort of haze. your voice worked like a siren's, bringing him in and in, with only mere words. having him wrapped around your pinky. true, most of the time, nanami preferred to be the dominating one, the one in control, however, he also knew how to let himself be taken care of by others, specifically, you.

"Please, honey, please, I need you so badly." his voice was strained, barely managing to hold himself back; hold himself out for long enough for you to do something.

taking that as your sign to continue, you put a coy little smile on your face, lowering yourself to lay comfortably between his legs on the soft bed, before placing one, single, chaste kiss to his angry, red tip.

he let out a groan in response, head falling back, peeking at you from under his eyelashes, hands trembling slightly at the feeling. your kiss felt good, so good, but it wasn't near enough for what he wanted, no, needed.

"Darling you, fuck, tease..." he groaned out, situating himself to rest on his elbows, so he could see you better, and see what you were up to.

you would have teased him for longer, but the look on his face, one of love, neediness, pure eagerness and desire, was enough to pull you out of your teasing and cruel state, and you decided to help your beloved partner, help him release all the stress within him.

opening your lips, you slowly lowered yourself onto his aching, hardened cock, lowering yourself further and further, as you attempted to take him fully, with, as you soon found out, ended futilely on the first go, with uncovered space still left at his base. however, that alone was enough to cause nanami to let out a low moan, pressing his eyes shut again, letting the darkness consume him as he focused entirely on the pleasure he felt in the moment.

the scene was messy. your drool dribbling down nanami's sensitive cock, the tip of it pressed and poked against the back of your throat, trying to push further and further, however, it was stopped through the tightening of your throat, and the sounds of gags and chokes on his large size.

he gently moved one of his hands to rest on your head, not pushing, not pressing down, just trying to ground himself to reality from the immense pleasure he felt. "Sweetheart, it feels so good... You're doing so well..."

nanami kento has a way with words. a way that made you feel eager and excited to pleasure him, to satisfy him, in hopes of getting more and more praise.

trying to breathe through your nose, you slowly relaxed your throat, bobbing your head up and down, attempting to inch further and further down his large dick, holding onto his thighs with trembling hands, as your tongue swirled around his leaking tip, which resulted in a loud, higher pitched moan than before from nanami.

the moan was all you needed to proceed with your actions, desperately trying to bring your beloved to the edge of release, as you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking on his cock so well he could practically see stars in his eyes.

taking one of your hands, you gingerly brought it to his balls, beginning to slowly mess and play with them, testing new waters to see if it would have the desired effect on nanami.

and it did not fail.

in mere seconds, nanami was falling apart on the bed, his legs trembling pathetically, his hips jerking up to your mouth, his back on the bed, his arms having lost all strength to support himself. curses, moans, and groans of your name kept spilling from his mouth, as not once did he open his eyes. hot spurts of his cum landed in your mouth, on your tongue, as you began to taste the salty yet slightly bitter taste of it on your tongue.

letting him ride out high long-awaited orgasm, you took all that he gave you, only pulling off once you saw his body laying practically limp on the bed, regaining himself from the experience.

but, of course, he was a gentleman at heart. he wouldn't let such a favour go unrewarded, oh no, he couldn't have that.

"How about you let me pleasure you now, love? What do you say?"

(author's note: finished writing this after finishing AOT S3 - the ending hurt so bad that i couldn't even cry)

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Summary: After Spencer is shot he can't do much in the field for a while, being stuck to the offices in Quantico. His insomnia starts to amp up and instead of an urge for McDonald's at 1 AM he finds himself desperate for a new book and a coffee. Somehow, he finds the Midnight Owl, the late night bookstore/cafe open at weird hours with a cute southern co owner who probably gets the same amount of sleep as he does.

She also makes the best coffee that is disgustingly sweet. Exactly how he likes it.

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: Mentions of Season 5 100 episode and canon typical BAU themes

|Next

The one with the late night bookstore    

If Spencer could pace, he would, but his new semi-permanent crutch situation was impeding his mobility. He hasn’t been able to sleep, much less relax with the knowledge of Hotch being stabbed by George Foyet in his own home. Or how it’s clear that Foyet is playing an extreme game with the BAU, but mostly Hotch. Spencer didn’t even want to think about poor Haley and Jack being thrown into witness protection. These were scenarios Spencer knew came with the job he does, but seeing it happen to people he knows and cares about, makes his stomach churn. He couldn’t imagine if it was his own mother being threatened. It sends a cold chill down his back. He needs a distraction.    

Spencer’s eyes drag over to his used and abused bookshelf. Looking through his collection trying to find something to read. Even for a distraction he’s not very interested in rereading any of the texts on his shelf. His go to comfort of Sherlock Holmes doesn’t even seem all that appealing at the moment. He needs something that isn’t about criminals or detectives right now. Too bad nothing else on his shelf seemed to catch his eye. Spencer eyes his clock and the analog clock on his wall tells him it’s two in the morning. He’d be lucky if anything besides a dingy twenty-four-hour cafe was open, much less a bookstore.    

He sighs and looks over at his discarded laptop on his desk. He boots it up to see if maybe he could at least check how early the library opened. He could try to sleep but his insomnia was eating away at him, trying to focus on anything else but work seemed harder and harder. Spencer had to get out of his apartment. He looks up the library hours as well as a few bookstores. Just trying to see how soon he could sit down and avoid the never-ending running of his brain. He’s surprised when he finds a bookstore that was advertising its hours as open. Surely that was wrong. He spots the phone number on the webpage, and he decides to call to double check.    

The line rings for roughly two seconds before it’s picked up, a melodic voice on the other line states, “Midnight Owl, this is Y/N how can I help you?” The cadence of the woman’s voice much too chipper for the middle of the night.    

Spencer’s shocked into silence for a moment before he responds, “I thought the hours posted were wrong...” He finds himself stating.   

“Nope!” She replies, unbothered by his blunt response. “We’re open 24/5, only closed on Fridays and Saturdays!” She tells him brightly, “You wouldn’t be the first to call thinking we posted our hours wrong though. More common than you think.”    

He coughs awkwardly and finds himself nodding even though she can’t see it. “Okay, great, thank you so much.”    

“Not a problem, swing by some time we have the best drinks crafted by yours truly!” She jokes with a soft laugh trailing her sentence. She drawls out the end of her words in a way that has them twisting together as sweet as the tea he’s almost positive she drinks.   

“Have a good night.” He states before hanging up the phone.    

He looks at the address listed and finds that it’s just up the street, barely a block away.    

Spencer eyes his crutches for a moment debating on whether he should go or not. His good leg shakes in anxious movements as he sits on his couch. What were the odds that there was a bookstore up his block that was open at odd hours that catered to him? He knew the odds; they were incredibly low . He shrugs to himself and hobbles to grab his crutches, he’ll check it out. Why the hell not? If it’s too good to be true he can add it to the list of places he’ll never visit again like that one coffee shop downtown that burns everything he’s ever ordered.    

He desperately needs to get out of his apartment.    

-   

Y/N’s night at the Midnight Owl was going slowly. You had a few regulars wander in, which you were happy about since the store had only officially been open for four months. There was a couple that sat on the loveseat in the cafe every Thursday night reading their books together and drinking the cafe’s famous homemade lavender lemonade. Not that you could brag about it, your co-owner makes pastries and premade drinks. All homemade family recipes. On the opposite side of the store was the guy who came in every other day to check for anything new. He grabs a coffee and roams the stacks for an hour. Sometimes he buys, sometimes he doesn’t. He comes in at the same time though, so you’re pretty sure he works a graveyard shift.    

There were a couple of students at a table in the cafe section clearly up studying and writing papers. The semester for school had only just started a month ago, but the influx of students coming and going was increasing by the day.    

You loved your little bookstore, and during the day it was popping. A rising trendy place for local university students. You preferred the quiet of the nights though. It gave you time to make orders for books, restock, and change out displays. It was methodical cleaning and sorting that kept you sane. Your daytime life was overly complicated and having your own corner of the world was nice. It felt like a safe bubble that didn’t necessarily feel like work.    

You’re in the middle of compiling a list of books to reorder that have already sold out when the front doorbell chimes telling her someone just entered. You are behind a stack finishing what you're writing on your notepad when you calls out, “Be right there!”    

You bound around the stack to the counter to meet the newcomer, “Welcome in! How can I help you?” you asked happily pushing your hair behind your ear nervously.    

You scan the guy from head to toe, he’s definitely new. He looks like a grad student, probably around your age. His mousy brown hair is tied back into a low ponytail and he’s in a well-worn Caltech shirt and sweatpants. The oddest thing about him is the crutches he’s sporting as he comes in. You send him a warm smile.   

Spencer looks at the woman standing at the counter and finds you’re not what he expected you to be. You look like the moon; you have features that are soft and delicate, and your eyes shine with the bright ambience of the bookstore. Spencer almost loses his train of thought as he takes in the bookstore worker’s features that just made you seem so inviting.    

It takes a second before he registers that you asked him a question. “Oh, yes,” he rushes out awkwardly. “Is the cafe still open?” He questions, tilting his head to the empty-looking bar on the other side.    

You nod happily, “It is! I’m the only one who works the night shift, so I run the register and the cafe. Would you like something?” you ask him, already walking toward the counter that holds the cabinet of pastries and coffee machines.    

“A latte would be great actually.” He says in a much clearer voice.    

“Can do.” You grin at him radiantly and it’s so infectious he finds himself returning one. You turn and almost have a skip to your step as you walk, far too awake for him to deem reasonable for two in the morning.    

Spencer watches her as he slowly moves forward on his crutches, she almost dances around the machines as she makes his latte. She’s humming to the music that he’s finally registered playing in the bookstore. She’s radiating a warmth that Spencer doesn’t get to see much day to day except for the one and only, Penelope Garcia. Garcia looked and acted like the sun, one giant ball of pink and blonde energy. He watches the worker move around her workstation making his latte and it’s seamless how she moves, it’s her second nature.  She’s just at ease here, which settles his uneasy nerves about trying a new place out in the middle of the night. He looks around and sees a few people mingling about.   

Spencer takes time to look around the store and notices how it feels much more lived in than any box stores he’s been to. The overhead lights aren’t fluorescent like a normal store but a few well-placed wooden chandeliers that are carved to look like vines. Every other light is a floor light or table lamp that has mismatched covers and stained glass. He turns to the large windows, and he guesses the store probably gets great sunshine when it’s daylight. The multiple house plants by the window and on the empty tables being a good indicator. The ambiance is so inviting, not to mention the amount of comfortable faux leather seating he sees.    

He could imagine spending a lot of time here, it was just so cozy. Spencer can’t imagine he would have missed this place opening but with all the cases they’ve been busy with, he actually isn’t surprised at all.    

He’s brought out of his thoughts by her placing the drink on the pickup bar, “So what ails you?” Your voice carries to him, and you tilt your head waiting patiently.   

“Excuse me?” He finds himself stuttering out.   

You shrug nonchalantly, “Well, it’s the middle of the night and I’ve never seen your face in here before.” You state the fact like it's so obvious.    

“So, what’s buggin’ you?” Your voice drawls out sweetly as you look at him expectantly.   

It’s almost like the lights in the cafe frame her from behind, bright and dazzling. She’s clearly personable and Spencer isn’t used to people with Y/N’s personality being overtly kind to him. He’ll see how long it takes her to dismiss him like most people do. It doesn’t annoy him like it used to, he expects it really. Especially when his own team and friends do it almost regularly.    

You are waiting patiently for his response with unwavering kind eyes.   

“Insomnia,” He settled on admitting to you, he gave you a tight lined frown. “I needed a new book; I’ve read through my catalog.”    

Your eyes light up, “That’s my specialty! I mean, I make a mean latte, but my favorite part of this place is the books.” you whispered conspiratorially.    

“So,” you come around from the back of the bar and put your hands on your hips, “What genre were you looking for? Or was it a specific book?” you ask him.    

“Fantasy, preferably. I’ve read all of Tolkien and Gaiman’s works.” He tells you.    

You nod in understanding your eyes giving a quick look of him from head to toe, “You look like a man who’s read The Hobbit and American Gods .” You said, almost more so to herself.    

Spencer gives you a quizzical look, unsure if he should be insulted or not. You read his face and your own cheeks flush with embarrassment. Your hands start moving exaggeratedly as your voice pitches, “Not in a bad way! I promise, I’m here for a well-read person! Not that you have to have read those two authors to be well read, I just-” You take a deep breath and stop yourself.    

“Sorry, I just mean, you look like you’ve probably read some of the most popular titles in that genre.” Your voice grows smaller, and your face is bright in a flush as you rush through your words, drawling them out in that voice that sounds like sugar. You bite the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to stop talking.    

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head, “I get it, you’re good.” He tells you reassuringly.    

You sigh in relief, pushing your hair out of your face nervously, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant you probably want something different and not recommended every time you ask for fantasy.”    

Spencer just gives you a smile, “I appreciate it.” He shifts his weight on his crutches to awkwardly sip his latte.    

You usher him over to one of the comfortable chairs with a nice side table lamp that has beautiful green and red stained-glass roses on it.    

“Here sit, I’ll grab some recommendations, and you can let me know what you think.” You don’t even give him a chance to rebuttal before you’re off and disappear into the stacks.    

The silence that followed her absence was overwhelmingly loud, except for the soft music playing from the speakers. Spencer takes his time drinking his latte and it’s delicious. Better than the place the BAU grabs coffee from, and much better than whatever was in their coffee pot at the office.    

You pop back out from the stacks within ten minutes holding at least five book options for him to sort through.    

“These all have different sub-genres but are fantasy in nature. Let me know if any look good to you.” You hand them over to him happily. He notices you biting the inside of your cheek again, as you watch him look over the books.    

You’re rocking on your feet, as you watch Spencer thumb through the books, reading the summaries keeping his face neutral. You start picking at your nails trying not to seem like a dog waiting for its owner. You should busy yourself with something else besides trying to gauge Spencer’s reaction to the books, but you can’t help it.   

Spencer pauses on a book with a bright colorful cover that was in the middle of the stack. It’s the only one he pauses on and your face lights up.    

“I loved Howl’s Moving Castle !” Your voice pitches up in enthusiasm. You start talking with your hands again, “It’s fun, and the cast of characters who, in a magical world, feel so relatable. The two leads also have great dialogue! I was genuinely laughing out loud.” Your face splits into a grin as you explain the book to Spencer without spoiling anything.    

You are so filled with joy as you talk about the book, it doesn’t take him but a second of listening to you to know he’s sold. He’s reading this, your genuine joy selling him on it. He doesn’t have to look through the rest of the stack, though he’s sure you’ve likely read all the books you offered him.   

“I’ll take it.” He said, moving to stand up to purchase it at the counter.    

You move to stop him, “Don’t worry about it! You can pay on your way out. You look like you’ve been struggling with those crutches.” You tell him waving him back down to sit.    

“Just relax, drink and read. It’s what the Midnight Owl’s for.” You chirp happily shooting him a triumphant look as you move to walk back to the counter.    

You go back to working on creating an order for books back at the checkout counter. You have the work desktop open back to the list of books you were cross referencing for prices. You go back and forth from looking at your handwritten list to researching prices from different distributors.    

The couple who was there earlier finally get up, waving goodbye to Y/N.    

“Have a great night y’all! See you next week.” You tell them with your own wave that’s brief as you make the order.    

The only noise in the store is some shuffling and the music playing overhead and you humming along to it. It’s a mix CD you burned a few years back and most of the songs are still your favorite. You keep meaning to make a new one, but you just haven’t had time. Your eyes wander from your computer to check on your new customer reading in the corner. You don’t want to hover, but you try to gauge if he’ll be a regular or not. You hope so, he seemed nice enough.    

Spencer can feel her eyes on him occasionally, he can see her fidgeting behind the counter. Every other song he can spot her leaning out of the corner of his eye to look over to him. He tries to hide his grin; he knows that look well. She’s trying to see if he’s enjoying the book. Spencer tries to read at a normal pace, even though he can read twenty thousand words per minute, that defeats the purpose of him trying to get out of his apartment to just devour this book. Plus, he kind of enjoys watching the store clerk.   

She’s full of energy and he has no idea where it comes from, but it’s almost a nervous energy. She’s constantly moving, either fidgeting or walking through the stacks to check or tidy the books. She’s also passed in front of him a few times to check the cafe machines or even grab a pastry he’s sure has been there for too long, and she feels bad about selling it.    

Spencer stays there for a few hours; he really doesn’t notice how long until the door opens and the bell chimes again.    

“Morning!” The new woman cheers sleepily.    

You wave at her, “Morning Josie. There are still a few pastries left from yesterday, but I put them in the back fridge for you.”   

The new woman, Josie, waved back, “Thanks, I’m going to prep for today.”    

Spencer finally looks at the time and realizes it’s five in the morning, he sighs standing up. He grabs his crutches and pushes himself toward the counter to pay for his book. If he’s lucky he could get an hour or two of a nap before work.    

He gently slides the book over to you and your whole face brightens, “Have you liked it so far?” you asked him.    

Spencer grins “It’s charming. You were right about the cast; it’s a great blend of characters that shouldn’t fit as well as they do together.”    

You nod excitedly. “I don’t know if you’ve gotten to a certain part, but I won’t spoil it, I loved how they explain the magic that affects Sophie! It was a fun book.”   

Spencer hands over some cash to pay for his book. “I’ve liked it so far. I’ll have to ask for another recommendation.” He tells you.    

If you were a dog, your ears would be pointed up and tail wagging, you cannot contain your pure joy.    

“Absolutely! Anytime, it’s one of my favorite things.” You push your hair back and you look down at the table nervously pushing his book back toward him with his change.    

“I’m always happy to see a returning face.” You said looking up at him, your eyes sparkling. “I’m Y/N by the way, I don’t know if I introduced myself.”   

Spencer takes the book and his change; you smile brilliantly at him, and he feels a little enchanted by the bookstore clerk. He returns it. “Spencer. It was nice to meet you.”    

He gives you a small wave before walking out, crutches pushing him forward.    

The one about Halloween    

You have decided that you do not care if it’s only September, you are decorating for Halloween. Maybe it’s that you’re festive or maybe it’s from growing up in a southern community that went all out for decorations, but you are determined that the Midnight Owl will be the place to be for October. You’ve also planned a few events for the spooky month for all ages.    

There are a few reading hours planned for children during the day, costume contests, and some trick or treat candy lined up to buy. Your shopping list was filling up quickly. For the nighttime events you’ve gotten together with Josie to throw a movie night every Sunday night at eight in October. You’ve already planned a lineup of movies to play and popcorn to order. You still can’t decide on having two movies or not, a family friendly one first and then a scary one. She’ll figure it out.    

To say that you are bubbling with excitement is an understatement.    

You're in the middle of dragging out one of the boxes of decorations from the attic when the door chimes open.     

“Welcome in! Help yourself to shop or if you wait a few minutes, I can fix you a drink at the cafe!” You shout from behind the large box you’re carrying. It’s not heavy, filled mostly with paper and plastic decorations. The box itself is just quite large, and it blocks your view when you walk.   

“What are you doing?” A soft chuckle passes through, and you recognize it immediately. It’s your new favorite regular.    

You set the box down in a huff behind the counter and look at Spencer exasperatedly.   

“If you must know, I’m preparing for Halloween.” You said matter-of-factly.    

Spencer’s hazel eyes light up, the same way he gets when he’s about to tell you a long list of facts about something. You love it when he gets excited. It’s contagious.   

“Oh, please continue then. It’s never too early for Halloween.” He said happily.   

You let out a burst of laughter and it echoes in the room, “Thank you! Finally, someone who understands.” You tease him.   

Spencer’s been coming in almost every night since his first visit. It’s only been a month, but you love talking to Spencer. He’s full of endless information and he loves to read just as much, if not more, than you do.    

He has an unfair advantage though. He had admitted how quickly he could read to you in passing a few weeks ago and your jaw dropped. You didn’t believe him at first.    

-   

 “Okay, that’s the fifth book you’ve finished in like two days Spencer. Are you even actually reading them?” You had teased him, when he returned to the shelves looking through the selections.    

“Of course I do. I just happen to read twenty thousand words per minute.” He said easily running his fingers along the spines of the books as he pursues.    

You scoff, “Yea right.” you rolled your eyes. “Just say you skim through them.”   

Spencer shakes his head, “I’m serious, I have an eidetic memory too.” he said.    

You blinked at him a few times in disbelief before just bursting into a fit of small giggles.   

“Wow, I wish I could read that fast. I’d get through my TBR so much faster!” you said impressed.    

Spencer pauses looking at you, trying to assess if you're trying to make fun of him or not. Your face is split into a wide grin, and he realizes you are intrigued by this little tidbit. You didn't think it was weird, that he’s weird.    

Spencer felt his face flush a bit, and he just shrugged it off. “It’s not a big deal.”    

“No, it’s just a really cool fact about you.” You said, like it was obvious.    

Spencer mouth tighten into a fine line, and he shook his head, “That would be a first.” he had mumbled under his breath.    

You didn’t press him, but you did file away in the back of your mind his response for later. Clearly Spencer wasn’t used to someone reacting positively to this tidbit about him.    

-   

You look at Spencer as he stands there watching you. He’s in his work clothes, which you're used to by now, but it’s the opposite of what he wore when they first met. He’s in a purple button up shirt that he’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. His cardigan is hanging off his faded brown leather satchel sitting against his hip. He’s leaning on his crutches as she assesses him.    

“C’mon,” you said waving for him to follow. “Let’s make something fall flavored to get rolling with the season.” You suggest a small smile tugging at your lips.    

Spencer just nods and follows you toward the cafe section.    

“Are you a fan of pumpkin flavors or do you prefer other autumn flavors?” You ask him as you walk around the counter to the coffee machines.   

The pickup counter for the cafe doubles as a normal place to sit and Spencer grabs a stool to sit in, leaning his crutches against the counter.   

“I only like my drinks sweet. Flavor isn’t too important.”    

You hum in acknowledgement and get to work on making him a drink. “I’ll just surprise you then.”    

Spencer brings out a few books he’s reading and places them on the table. While you make his drink you ask, “What’s your favorite book to read to get into the spooky spirit?”    

He perks up, “There’s plenty of options, I think I prefer something classic like The Shinning or maybe even an old compilation of ghost stories. Those are always good.” he said passionately.    

“Ooh! I’m obsessed with the paranormal!” you gasp in excitement.   

Spencer feeds into the enthusiastic response, “Did you know there are a multitude of categories of the paranormal? Most people only associate it with ghosts or demons, but ufology and cryptozoology are also subcategories. Personally, as interesting as ghost or demon possession stories are, I’m far more fascinated by cryptozoology and the creatures that different areas of the world claim to see and state they have proof of.”    

Spencer realizes he’s rambling and tries to cut himself off, but your eyes are wide as you actively lean against the counter giving him your rapt attention.    

You notice his abrupt stop and you tilt your head, “Keep going, you have my full attention! I’m trying to get into the spooky spirit!” You drawl out, your rich accent seeping through.    

You turn to grab his drink and hand it to him. It's in a nice burnt orange colored mug, “It’s a maple chai latte. Felt like fall to me.” you said quietly, having a matching mug with him. You lean against the counter and bat your hand at his forearm.   

“C’mon tell me more!” you giggled.    

Spencer stared at you in awe for a moment, before he tried to hide his expression through drinking his latte.    

“Ghost hunting became popular in the early 2000s, but it’s been around since the 1920’s and even before then there were popular ghost stories told throughout history! Humans have always been interested in the afterlife which is why we’re probably so fascinated by looking for proof of the afterlife.”   

You nod and sips from your own mug, “Have you ever watched those ghost hunting shows before?” you asked curiously.    

Spencer shook his head no. “I don’t watch a lot of television.”    

You hum in thought, “Yeah, that checks out. Well, they’re super cheesy and trashy. Love them to be honest.”    

“Which one’s your favorite?” he asked, leaning closer against the bar.   

It felt like it was only the two of them in the bookstore. Inside their own bubble, the world moved slowly inside the confines of the Midnight Owl.    

“This is gonna sound so awful!” you laughed lightly shaking your head, “There’s a show called Ghost Adventures, and the main guy, Zak Bagans, he’s such a dick to the ghosts! He instigates all the time, and I mean, regardless of if ghosts are real, he goes in hot ! Not to mention he always throws his costar Aaron into the worst places! It’s just insane, absolute trash.” you shake your head in disbelief.    

“But you love it?” Spencer asked.    

You gave him a deadpan stare, “Oh absolutely, it’s the best kind of quality trash.”   

You burst into a fit of giggles and Spencer couldn’t help but find it contagious.    

“Aaaaaaanyway~” You drag out, moving to grab your box of decorations.    

“Wanna help me decide how to decorate?” you ask him, grabbing a pumpkin garland out of the bin and tossing it dramatically over your shoulders like a scarf.   

Spencer brushes his loose hair out of his face and nods. He may still be useless on crutches, but he could help... Kind of.    

You empty the containers of the bin on the counter where Spencer’s sitting and he quickly grabs his mug to lift it up to avoid being knocked over from the avalanche of orange and black. You smile at him apologetically before trying to dig out your favorite decorations.    

-   

Spencer’s face is twisted in a look of frustration as he sits in the corner reading. He came in a while ago and besides his drink, he hasn’t spoken much to you.    

Which isn’t a bad thing, tonight was one of the busier nights. It was mid-October, and the festivities had been nonstop. Tonight was vampire night, which upon entering the building Spencer was already grimacing. There was a special drink deal on the board hanging above the cafe for anyone buying a vampire related book. Twilight , Dracula , Carmilla , Interview with a Vampire, just pick a title it was an option with its own fun themed cafe drink that was absolutely red.   

 It wasn’t like you knew he had just finished working on a case that involved vampirism, but the odds weren’t in his favor for finding an escape from the most recent case. Halloween season had its ups and downs he supposed.   

There was no way of explaining his slightly irritable mood. Spencer hadn’t mentioned his work to you. You never asked, and he didn’t feel like explaining that he spent most of his waking hours profiling serial killers. In the past it hasn’t made the best openers in conversation. It’s also nice to have this small corner of his life not be coated with unsubs, victims, and death. It’s just his favorite bookstore.   

Spencer looked up to see you making more drinks, the cafe was popular tonight. Your chatting up another woman who’s laughing at the joke you told her. The other woman is holding a book that Spencer is positive is a vampire novel.    

“And I have one raspberry mocha for a Carmilla lover!” your voice rang out and you handed over the drink to the customer.    

“Come back Sunday for our movie night, we’re playing Beetlejuice !” you said and waved goodbye to the customer.    

For eleven o'clock at night the shop was busy. Busting out drink after drink and ringing up books at the cafe register. It was your idea to do a deal with a themed book and drink combo, but you didn’t expect to still be busy into the night. You hadn’t even had a break in customers to say hello to your regulars.    

For business, this was great, for your own mental health, you were struggling. You just needed it to slow down enough to catch your breath. You should have scheduled someone else on shift with you, but you weren’t about to call for help now. It was your mistake, and you'll live with it. You made a note to make sure someone is on shift with you tomorrow night for a different themed deal.    

After another round of five more customers there is finally a break. You sighed leaning against the counter and took a grounding breath. You don’t move for a minute, just catch your breath before you look up and catch Spencer from his chair looking at you. You shot him a shaky smile that is supposed to be reassuring but actually looks like you’re about to cry. Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he decides to get up and come over. The cafe was still bustling but no one was sitting at the counter. Spencer shoves his book into his bag, grabs his crutches and hobbles to the counter.    

“Busy night?” he asked, already knowing the answer but trying to see how you were doing.    

Your eyes look up into his hazel ones and you look worn. “In my head, the whole vampire boom and Halloween themed event seemed like a good idea. For profit, absolutely. For my sanity? I never wanna see another Twilight shirt or raspberry flavored item for a while.” you said in a groan placing your head against the counter.    

“What is Twilight ?” Spencer asked.    

He doesn’t know anything except that it has something to do with vampires and its popular enough that the victims of the latest case were also obsessed with it. He knows it’s a book, but besides that, he has no clue.    

You slowly move to look up and blink at him for a moment, trying to deduce if he’s being serious or not. “Very funny Spencer, I know you’re not asking what the pop culture phenomenon Twilight franchise is.” you replied with a laugh.   

After a moment of looking at Spencer’s confused face you realize he was in fact, unaware. Your eyes widen.    

“Wait, wait, wait, you seriously don’t know? I mean it’s like everywhere. The second movie is coming out in less than a month. I don’t think I’ve sold so many copies of a book in my life. I can’t keep New Moon on the shelves.” you said almost exasperatedly, but the smile on your face gave it away. If Spencer didn’t know any better, he’d think you were getting a kick out of it. He knows by now you won’t make fun of him; you're elated for a completely different reason.   

“I just know it’s popular and about vampires.” He replied with a shrug.    

“Oh my god, I get to explain Twilight to you.” your face splits into a massive grin, your energy returning quickly.    

Spencer quirks an eyebrow, “I thought you were over hearing Twilight ?”    

“No, no, no, no! This is totally different!” you're almost vibrating with excitement. “I’ve read all the books, I’m gonna let you borrow my copy next time you’re in! Actually, I’ll give you the first two since you read so fast!” her words are running together in a run on sentence she’s talking too fast. Your accent came through stronger than ever with your eagerness.    

He doesn’t have it in him to turn you down, you're just so thrilled. Spencer just finds himself too caught up in your joy to tell you he had no interest in the book series. He finds himself agreeing to borrow your copies.    

“I can buy them if you need me too. I don’t want to take your copies unless, you’re sure.” He offers.   

You shake your head, “I can’t keep them on the shelves long enough for you to buy them. Just go ahead and take my copies.” You move to make Spencer a drink that isn’t one of the red blood themed drinks on the menu. “It’s not a big deal. I do have a lot of sticky notes in there though, my friends and I read it for a book club night.”    

He sits up a little straighter, suddenly becoming more interested in reading these books. Not because of their pop culture relevance but because he could read your commentary. There was something special about that, sharing a book with annotations.   

“I’ll bring one too.” He finds himself offering before he can think.    

Your face glows as you hand him a chai latte. “I’d love that! It’ll take me a bit longer to read than you will.” you joked lightly.   

“It’ll be worth it; I haven’t had someone to talk to about books since my mom.” He said looking down at his drink, his eyes growing distant for a split second.   

You open your mouth to ask but quickly shut it, biting the inside of your cheek to stop. You might be nosy, but you knew when to not pry. It was how Spencer seemed to be somewhere else in his mind, if only for a moment. It was enough to know that you had no business asking him to open a can of worms he maybe didn’t want to. Instead, you turn around to grab a set of fake vampire teeth to put in your mouth. They were small and awkward and not cute by any means, but if you could get him to smile, that was all you needed.    

You patiently wait for Spencer to look back up at as you rest your head in your palm and keep your face neutral. The fake teeth are making your mouth uncomfortable, but you’ll survive.    

When Spencer does look up and sees you dramatically batting your eyes at him and grinning madly with children’s plastic vampire teeth, he can’t control the bubbling laughter that takes over him. His shoulders shake with the full body movement, and he shakes his head in disbelief.   

“Where did you get those?” he asked through his fit.    

You turn to spit them out into the trash, your mouth disgustingly filled with drool from the uncomfortable teeth. You cover your mouth and grab your own drink to flush out your mouth.    

“They were a gimmick for the themed drinks tonight.” you finally replied. “Good for a quick joke not for actually wearing.” you said groaning.   

“Pretty sure they are made for children’s mouths.” Spencer teased.   

You shrug and sigh, “Well, being a vampire for Halloween is off the list of options this year. I don’t want to wear those for a whole night.”   

“Probably better off.” He said trying to not immediately focus on Dante and his manager coercing a mentally ill young woman into committing vampire ritual like murders.   

“Yeah, the whole thing with that celebrity kinda left a sour taste in my mouth.” you mentioned grimacing.    

“Dante?” Spencer asked for clarification.   

“Yeah, it was all over the tabloids,” you pointed to the magazine stand by the main register. “Got them in this morning.”    

Spencer tries to not make a face as he sees them, “You read that?”    

You let out a loud snort of a laugh. “No, no, no, oh god!” you stand up a little straighter and push your hair back. “I don’t trust a TMZ article as far as I can throw it, but those murders are real. Making it look like vampire bites...” you shudder, “that just skeeves me out.”    

Spencer drinks from his mug but nods his head in agreement. He didn’t peg you to believe paparazzi reports. The magazine articles would be wrong anyway; they didn’t make the arrest until that afternoon. It was refreshing to see someone not believe everything they read.    

“If vampires are off your list, what other costumes are you thinking about?” he asked, trying to change the subject.    

“No idea.” you groan out in irritation. “I usually do group costumes with my friends but, kind of hard when they live 600 miles away.”    

“South?” he asked.    

You snorted with a roll of your eyes, “Aw geez what gave it away?” you tease with an exaggerated drawl, making your accent thicker than normal.    

Spencer shakes his head in amusement. “Very funny. Why move here?”    

You tense up, avoiding his doe eyes. You look down biting your lip nervously. “It’s uh, a long story.” you said quietly.    

Your body almost looks like it’s trying to shrink in on itself. Spencer doesn’t need to be a profiler to understand your body language. Whatever it is, you’re not ready to share it.    

Instead, he tries to be reassuring that he’s not prying for information.    

“I’m a transplant too. I grew up in Las Vegas.”    

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’ve never been, is it really just the strip filled with casinos or are there nice pockets of peace and no tourists?” you asked.   

You sigh, “It is a lot of tourists. There’s plenty of local places, ones that are only there if you’ve grown up knowing how to get to them.” he told you in a quiet voice, almost conspiratorially.    

Your mouth splits into a smile that reaches your eyes, “So you’ll be my tour guide, right?”   

Spencer’s face heats up from the suggestion and your giggles fill the room.    

“I’m just teasing you,” you pat his arm reassuringly before going to grab a pastry from the front display.    

“Come on and split this last cookie with me, I know I'm not going to sell it.” you said grabbing a chocolate chip cookie and warming it up before cutting it in half.    

Spencer’s face is still tinted pink but the soft cookie and the way it melts when he bites into it and seeing you look happier than earlier, is enough for him. A small corner of peace in the world inside the Midnight Owl.   

The one after Haley’s funeral    

You’re sitting at the checkout counter reading the book Spencer most recently traded with you. It’s one of the Sherlock Homles books, which you had admittedly never read before. You've watched plenty of films and shows but reading it never really crossed your mind.    

You joked about making Spencer watch The Great Mouse Detective when you finished so you could explain your first introduction to Sherlock Holmes. He had no idea what you were talking about, which you found charming in its own way. You loved introducing Spencer to the pop culture media that just filled your brain. Even if it was trashy. You had promised him The Great Mouse Detective was anything but trash. A childhood classic for sure.    

You take your time reading the books Spencer lent. He started leaving small post-it notes for you in them with commentary and questions. It was like you two had your own language, and it was books. Even if he let you borrow a genre you had no interest in, you suddenly were invested. It was a way to get to know him, and in turn he took your books happily. Your annotations were way more scattered brained and filled with tiny commentary to yourself.    

You saw Spencer reading one of the books you let him borrow and he laughed, loudly, in the middle of the store. You both flushed in embarrassment. It was a busy night, filled with university students studying late at night, so it was mostly silent besides the music that was playing through the speakers. You knew you had written something insulting about one of the characters in that sticky note. You were creative with your insults, and you had completely forgotten to take that out before giving it to him. Spencer teased you about your comments on Gale from The Hunger Games for the rest of that night.    

You’re in the middle of The Hounds of Baskerville when the door opens. You look up to greet them but your face falls when you see Spencer, he looks terrible. You slowly close the book and move to walk toward him.   

His eyes were hollow and the normal dark circles under his eyes seemed impossibly darker than usual. Spencer just seemed sad and defeated. You hadn’t seen this side of him and all you wanted to do was press your thumb to his forehead and smooth out the furrow of his brow. To get him to relax, if only for a moment.   

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” you asked gently walking toward him. You reach out to rub his arms affectionately, “What happened?”    

Your voice is soft and sweet, the way you said honey with your southern drawl feels like a hug. Spencer just needed a minute. One second of peace. The image of Haley’s body unmoving with blood still fresh behind his eyes.    

“It’s been a long week.” His voice comes out a little rough. He’s haggard from the flight from Nashville and he really didn’t want to go home.    

The only comforting place he could think of immediately was the Midnight Owl, of you. Your warm voice and comforting drinks were the only things he could stand to be around.    

Your face softens at his words, and you tilt your head, “Do you need a hug?” you asked softly.    

There’s a shaky sigh that escapes Spencer’s mouth and he just nods his head, unable to form the words.    

You pull him into your embrace gently, your arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. You rub soothing circles into his back and Spencer holds onto your waist. Your body radiates heat and it's comforting as he shoves his face into your shoulder. You smell like vanilla, cloves, and parchment paper and his whole body relaxes into you. You hold onto him until Spencer pulls away, not wanting him to feel like he was a burden. The store was empty anyway, it's been a slow night.   

He takes a deep breath before peeling himself off. He moves his hands to hold your arms so he’s supporting himself. Your eyes soften as you look him over, her hand coming up to cup his face.    

“You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” You whisper softly.    

Spencer relaxes against your touch and doesn’t say much, just hums in response. He eventually finds his words, “My friends wife died recently, and it just, it was a shock.”    

He doesn’t want to get into how Haley died. That his job makes him and his coworkers targets. The people they love. George Foyet died at Hotch’s hands for killing Haley and attempting to kill Jack. Spencer watched Hotch’s face crumble, fall and lose what he loved the most. He knew Hotch didn’t want to divorce Haley, he loved her and his son with his whole heart.    

That love had cost him Haley’s life.   

“Oh hun,” your voice brings him back, “I’m so sorry.”    

He shakes his head, “I’ll be fine. I’m just processing it.”    

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, you’re allowed to process and grieve, especially if you knew her.” you tell him firmly. “C’mon, go sit down and I’m gonna make a delicious warm drink and we can just relax alright?”    

Spencer gives a tiny, tight smile and lets you grab his hand to pull him to one of the nicer chairs. He sets his cane against the arm rest and is floored by how easy everything is with you.  

You don’t push or pry for information, let him ramble, and Spencer doesn’t think he’s had a real friend outside of the BAU in a long time, much less someone his age. As much as he loves his team, there are times where they don’t understand him. It’s a lot easier to be himself with you. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what he’s doing most of his days, and he could argue with himself that you don’t know him. Almost 90% of his life is the BAU, and who is he if he isn’t Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI agent in the Behavioral Analyst Unit? A small part of him hopes he could be the person he becomes when he enters the Midnight Owl.    

He’s too lost in his thoughts to notice you walking over with two steaming mugs.    

“Here, it’s just tea but I think you need a relaxing drink. No caffeine.” you said with a sweet tone looking him over.    

You sit on the arm rest of the chair cradling your own mug. “Can I try something?” you ask him.    

Spencer drinks from his mug, but he mutters an agreement under his breath.    

“Lean back fully in the chair.” you instructed.   

He does as he’s told, he lowers his hands to his lap, mug still warmly pressed into his hands. Spencer isn’t sure what you’re trying to do until your hands are running through his hair, feather light. You’re not massaging his scalp, just the lightest of touches as you card your fingers through his long hair. Spencer’s eyes close and he almost moans from how the tension leaves his body immediately.    

You let out a tiny snort but continue the motions.    

“My momma used to do this when I was little.” you whisper to him, keeping a low voice.   

“I would be asleep in an instant.” you emphasized with a quiet snap of your fingers.   

Spencer’s eyes flutter open to look up at you, his big doe eyes looking up to see your soft features be highlighted in the warm glow of the lamps. You look down at him and tilt your head.    

“I might pass out like this.” he murmured in a low voice.   

“You can if you want. Promise I won’t let anyone bother you... not that anyone’s coming in anytime soon.” You drawl out looking around at the empty shop.    

“Just a quick nap, twenty minutes.” he told you, voice already fading and his eyes growing heavy.    

You don’t respond to him, just continue stroking his hair until he falls asleep. He felt the warm mug leave his hands and he heard ceramic clank onto the wooded side table next to him.   

You watch Spencer sleep, giving him much longer than twenty minutes. His dark circles told enough; he needed this nap more than he was letting on. It takes less than five minutes for Spencer to pass out. His body relaxed into the chair with all tension leaving his body. You slow down your movements until you feel safe enough to stop. His small snore a sign he was asleep.    

You moved to stand and went back to your duties, which wasn’t anything more than inventory tonight. Mondays were always slow.   

You moved about the bookshop, filing away books, crossing off things on your checklist, and beside the few customers that came in for less than twenty minutes each, the night was quiet. Enough so that you let Spencer sleep much longer than twenty minutes.    

Spencer sleeps peacefully for most of the night. You check on him occasionally, and besides the few snores, he’s sound asleep.    

Around four in the morning he stirs awake, blinking blearily and looks around the store. You hear him and poke your head out from behind a shelf.    

“Good morning sunshine!” you teased in a chipper tone.    

Spencer looks at you confused before looking down at his watch. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, tone not accusing, just confused.    

You shrug and make your way over to him, “You looked like you needed the sleep.”    

You gently reach your hand up to smooth the furrow of his brow. “You’ll die young from all that stress you’re carrying on your shoulders.” You tell him softly. The way you’re gently touching his forehead is like you’re trying to erase the stress and pressure.    

Spencer sighs into the light touch, “For sleeping on a chair, it was pretty peaceful.” he murmurs.    

You snort in amusement. “Well, at least I know they’re comfy.”    

“I sleep on planes frequently, so this is much better.” he said.   

“Travel a lot for work?” you asked.   

Spencer just nods. Not wanting to explore too deep into his job. The job that was leaving him sleepless most nights.   

“Do you feel any better?” you ask quietly.    

He nods solemnly. “Better than when I arrived.” he said with a shrug.    

You frown but don’t press, you push his hair back again giving him a reassuring smile.    

“I’m a good listener if you ever need to talk. Promise.” You hold out your pinky finger in the childish gesture of a pinky promise.    

Spencer finds himself smiling, finding it charming. Regardless of his problem with germs, it doesn’t feel so intense with you. You’re not a stranger anymore. He hooks his pinky with yours.    

“Not now.” He whispers. “But someday...”   

“Someday.” you reaffirm.   

The one about family    

Spencer’s surprised to see that you’re not working one random night in November. He knows that, of course, You can’t possibly be working every single night he comes in. It just throws him off when he doesn’t see you immediately. The sunshine woman behind the bar making him a new sickly-sweet coffee to try. You’ve only ever missed one day max two, so he doesn’t think much of it. Just a blip on his night.   

One night without you suddenly turns into half a week. Every day Spencer walks in and it’s not your bright bubbly voice greeting him. It’s one of the handful of people who work the late-night shift. They aren’t strangers, Spencer’s ran into a couple of them occasionally. So, when Spencer comes into the bookstore to see, yet again, Robert, manning the front desk lazily flipping through a magazine, his mild frustration turns to worry. You've been gone for four days and none of your coworkers seem to know why.   

What if you’re sick? What if something happened to you? Did you take a vacation? What if you’re in danger?    

The thoughts consume Spencer so much he almost calls Garcia to track you down. Or at least give him your address to check on you. He pulls himself together and realizes that it would be a bad idea and an invasion of your privacy. He’ll just have to wait it out.   

Spencer does wait, mostly because he’s forced too. The BAU never truly stops working.   

When he finally sees you again it’s near the tail end of November and way too close to Thanksgiving for his liking. He feels like you've been gone for ages, but it’s only been two weeks. The door chimes behind him as he walks in, he’s expecting to see your eyes light up with a smile on your flushed pink cheeks. The way you’ve always greeted him.    

Instead, he sees a side of you that he’s not used to at all. You look tired, exhausted. The dark circles under your eyes could compete against his natural ones. You’re wearing glasses which he’s never seen on you before. Her hair is haphazardly tied up, and You're in a large well-worn sweater that reads, ‘Read Banned Books’. He doesn’t think you've slept much, if at all, since he last saw you.    

You look like a zombie, barely functioning.   

You don’t even register Spencer enter; you're standing at the checkout counter finishing a transaction with a customer. You're swaying on your feet the whole time.    

Spencer lets you finish the interaction before coming over to the counter, concern clear on his face.   

“Y/N?” He says your name softly as he approaches.    

Your eyes fly up to him and widen a little in surprise, your body reacts with a small flinch. “Oh god Spencer!” You give a soft laugh, your hand coming up to clutch your chest, “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.” you try to calm yourself down.   

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and Spencer can tell. It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re not yourself. Her eyes are only half open, your hands shaking from what he can only assume is the obscene amount of caffeine you probably have in your system. Everything just seems muted, not the bright colors he used to see you framed in.   

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve been gone for a while.” he prompts, trying to get something out of you. A clue to what might have happened. Anything.   

You shake your head, “I’m fine, everything’s fine.” You said it a little too quickly.    

Spencer doesn’t buy it, but he’s kept enough secrets to himself to know he probably shouldn’t go looking into friends’ private lives. Some things he knows he’d rather keep to himself... but seeing you like this, he wants to help.    

You avoid his eyes and start to play with your hands on the counter. “I-” you open your mouth but promptly shut it again. You bite your cheek with a frown plastered on your face.    

“Sorry, it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.” you said quickly before turning to grab some books from behind the desk to busy yourself with.    

You don't want to talk about or think about it. It’s been a long two weeks, and you just need some normalcy. Something that you know you can do and enjoy.    

You feel Spencer’s eyes burning into you. You try to keep your usual high energy, you truly do. Everything has been so rough this month; you just need a break. The bookstore was your one solace. The Midnight Owl wasn’t just a job, it was your home. Your safe haven.   

You didn’t want to bring your real life here, not when sometimes your only highlight is seeing Spencer and sharing books back and forth. If he starts asking about your life outside the four walls of your shop, you don’t know if you can hold yourself together. Not today.    

“Y/N,” he opens his mouth trying to get your attention again.    

“Really Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you tell him, a short tone to your voice.    

You spin on your heels to walk somewhere, anywhere, else. “You know I have your book actually, let me return it. I left some notes in there.” You make it five or six steps before you falter and sways again. Spencer reaches out to grab and steady you.  

“Forget the book, you don’t look fine.” He makes you face him. “You look exhausted.” He chastises you.    

You deflate immediately and let Spencer guide you to a chair. He gently sets you down and he pries the book out of your hand and places it on the side table.    

“Sorry, you don’t have to take care of me.” you murmur feebly swatting him away. “I just...” You take a deep breath. “I had to take dad to the hospital on Tuesday and it’s just been downhill all week...” you admit timidly. You pushed your glasses up to your hairline and pressed the heels of your palm to your eyes.    

“I haven’t gotten much sleep.” you admit.    

“You’ve run yourself ragged.” Spencer lowers himself to be eye level with you. “Is he home now?” he asks gently.   

“No, they’re keeping him one more night.” you said with a heavy sigh.    

Your arms fell in between your knees, and you lean your head back exhausted. “It’s just been hard this past year...” your voice is small and lingers with sadness.    

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly.    

Spencer maybe doesn’t like talking about his hardships, but he’ll listen to yours if you let him. He wants to desperately ease your mind, see you smile.    

You look up at him, eyes wide as you assess him. “I don’t want to put my problems on you Spencer.” you give a tight smile. “I’ll figure it out.”   

Spencer reaches out to put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Talking about it doesn’t mean that you’re inconveniencing me. I'm just worried.”   

You sigh, already feeling him chip away at you. You didn’t stand a chance against his big doe eyes looking at you like you were fragile.    

You take a deep breath before answering him, “My dad has ALS, he was diagnosed a few years ago... I’ve been taking care of him.” you admit.    

“Where we were, the doctors just weren’t cutting it. So, I did some research and of course there were stellar doctors in DC... plus my baby sister came here for university so I just thought... maybe it would be easier. On all of us.” The tone of your voice gives your worry away.    

“Anyway, he just, he had an accident and fell down the other day. His legs are finally giving out and he’s being so stubborn about needing a wheelchair.” Your voice shakes and you close your eyes.    

“It’s been a long week.” you finally admit looking up at Spencer with watery eyes.    

Spencer understands. He’s spent most of his life taking care of his mom because of her own illness. While your dad is suffering from something different, he understands. Probably more than you realize.    

“I get it, I do.” he said. You go to retort, but he cuts you off. “I took care of my mom for a long time. She...” He pauses looking at you, debating for a moment on if he should tell you.    

“My mom has schizophrenia, and I committed her when I was eighteen.” he tells you with a tight frown.   

“It’s hard to take care of your parents, especially when it’s their job to take care of us.” He tells you sincerely.   

You have tears pricking your eyes, “Oh Spencer, I’m so sorry.”   

He shakes his head, “I’m telling you this because I understand. I promise I do, it’s not easy.”    

You take a shaky breath; your heart feels like it’s a thousand pounds. “Does it ever get easier?” you ask softly.    

Spencer squeezes your hand, “No, it doesn’t. There are happy moments though. Moments where you know you’re doing the right thing, even if it’s difficult.”    

You sniffle and wipes your face, “Thanks, I uh, I needed that.” you said with a small smile.    

-   

It’s getting closer to Christmas. The bookstore is decorated and busier than ever. There’s a handful of special events but between people coming in to buy presents and university students staying all night to study for finals, you have your hands full.    

There’s a second staff member working nights with you this month until the holiday break starts for the store. You and Josie were adamant about closing the bookstore between Christmas Eve and New Years. If someone needed a book that badly they could go to a big box store.    

What you really don’t need right now is your baby sister coming to your place of work and harassing you about Christmas and your dad.    

“Bridget, I don’t have time to discuss this with you right now!” you hiss out at your younger sister. “You didn’t spend Thanksgiving with us and daddy really wants you to come home just for Christmas.” you chastised your sister with a frown.    

You have a pause in customers for the moment, but you know that the large study group is coming in half an hour like they have been for the past week and half.    

“That’s not fair Magpie!” your sister groans in frustration using your nickname to try and be sweet. “I made these plans months ago; Mark really wants me to spend Christmas with his family.”  

You cross your arms and look at your sister sadly. “Birdie, we don’t know how much time we get with dad-” you start but is cut off.    

Bridget’s face scrunches in disgust at her sister’s words and huffs exaggeratedly. “Good god Y/N! He’s not gonna die over the holidays, stop fucking guilt trippin’ me over every decision because it doesn’t revolve around dad!”    

Bridget’s annoyed and you can tell, she always tries to skirt around her problems when she’s frustrated. She thinks you’re trying to back her into a corner.    

“Birdie-”    

“It’s Bri. I go by Bri here.” Her sister crosses her arms and looks at you in annoyance.    

“Look, I know dad’s sick, I’m not stupid.”    

“I didn’t say you were Bridget.” you said defensively.   

She rolled her eyes, “I didn’t decide to pack everything up and move dad out to DC. Just because you’re closer doesn’t mean I’m going to stop living my life to take care of daddy.”    

You bite your tongue. Trying to not fight with your sister, but your irritation rises in your throat. Burning words of resentment linger in your mind.    

“Fine. Would you please just call him on Christmas and please come by after the New Year. He really misses you.” You try to plead with your sister.    

Bridget just waves goodbye as she walks out the door, “Will do. See you next year Magpie.” she almost ran out the door.    

You deflate, your shoulders dropping. You almost don’t hear Spencer walking up next to you holding a gift bag in his hands.    

“I didn’t know your sister visited you.” he said.    

You look up at him and smile at your favorite regular. Your friend. You think they’re allowed to call each other friends now. He already saw you cry and that was a big step.    

You shake your head, “Yeah, we’re not as close as we used to be.” you mumble under your breath.    

Spencer nods his head. He never had any siblings, but he can read your face well enough to know you’re not thrilled.  

“Still close enough for nicknames, Magpie?” he asked, biting back a smile.  

“Childhood nicknames, Birdie and Magpie. Cause we were birds of a feather.” You said looking down at your hands sadly.  

“It’s fine.” you shrug it off and give a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. You lean against the counter. “What’s that you got there?” you asked, changing the subject.    

You’re pointing to the gift bag in his hands. You tilt your head curiously.    

“Oh, this is,” he flushes for a split second rushing his words out. “This is for you. I know you’re closing for the holiday soon and I don’t know if I’ll have a last-minute work call or not so., I brought your Christmas present.” He fumbled through his words quickly, but he held out the small bag.   

You light up immediately. Your eyes shimmer with excitement. “Aww, Spencer! This is so kind thank you!”    

You bend down below the counter and grabs your own item, “I actually have your present too.” you said shyly, handing him a wrapped package.    

Spencer is quiet as he gently takes the gift from you, a tiny smile on his face. He brushes his hair back out of his face as he looks at you softly.    

“This is so kind thank you.”    

Giddy giggles consume you, and you hold the gift bag. “Should we open them together or do you want to wait until Christmas?” you asked.    

Spencer shakes his head, “No no, you can open it now.” He reassures you.    

You smile, biting the inside of your cheek and open your present. Under the tissue paper is a sweater that’s twice your size and it’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt. You pull it out and it’s a purple crocheted sweater with a beautiful sun right in the middle. It reminds you of one of the tapestries from the late nineties that would have been in Practical Magic or something like that.    

“Oh Spencer, this is perfect.” you say quietly holding it tightly to your chest. “Thank you so much, I love it.”    

You pull off your cardigan and immediately shove the sweater on. You nestle yourself inside it and grins widely, “It matches your scarf!”    

Spencer just takes in your joy and how you light up, and he’s happy he could make you feel better.    

“Well go on open yours!” you said excitedly pushing your wrapped package toward him.   

Spencer gently peels back the wrapping paper and uncovers a white box; he opens the box to find a ceramic mug. It's custom made, with some uneven texture. It’s glazed a speckled purple and wrapped around the bottom is a quote, “Some books are so familiar that reading them is being home again.” -L.M. Alcott    

Spencer is quietly inspecting it, and you start explaining. You push your hair behind your ear, “I uh, I took a pottery class in my free time this past year. Since you’re here so much I thought you would like your own mug.” you said hesitantly.    

Spencer’s eyes widen, “You, you made this? For me?” he asked in surprise.    

You nod, looking down at the counter nervously.    

Spencer makes his way around the counter and pulls you into a tight hug. “This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me.” he whispers to you.    

You return the hug holding Spencer tightly. You press your face into his shoulder, and you feel infinitely better than how your night started.   

When they pull apart you play with the edge of the new sweaters' sleeves, a small blush on your face. “Do you go visit your mama for holidays?” you asked him.    

Spencer shakes his head, “Not all the time. My job doesn’t usually care if it’s a holiday or not.” he tells you.    

You nod, “Well, I hope you get to this year Spencer. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”    

He takes a shaky breath and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try to see her soon.”    

You nudge him lightly, trying to keep the tone light, “Want a fresh drink in your new mug?” you tease.   

Spencer chuckles but nods his head. “I’d love that.”    

“We’re about to test run if I’m actually good at pottery. So, fingers crossed it doesn’t leak.” you joke moving to the cafe counter at the back of the store.   

Spencer watches you walk away, with a skip in your step like the first night he came to the Midnight Owl. The way you easily glide through the crowd and chatter with customers and giggling.    

You shine bright like a star, like the sun.  

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 23

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22

1.4k words

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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You could tell just how much Zen was holding himself back. He helped you undress and carefully set your new clothes aside, knowing that there would be hell to pay from Bira and Hoonti if he damaged them. His hands were shaking where they rested on your waist and he was breathing hard while he paused to look you over and just take in every detail.

Without saying anything he lifted you up with ease and sat on the edge of the low dresser. As he stood between your spread legs he pulled your hips against his and you could feel every twitch and throb of his erection against you.

You could not resist running your hands up under his shirt, just touching him anyway you could. He took that as a hint and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head and tossed it aside. Softly you kissed along his chest and stomach, paying careful attention to the deeper scars scattered across his skin and enjoying the soft sighs between his moans.

He continued to grind against you. At this height with you on the dresser his erection was rubbing right against your clit and you felt the ache between your legs.

This was much more forward than he had been before and you were pretty sure that you liked it. For all of his reputation and status Zen was never a dominate or aggressive person, not the sort you would have expected for a war hero or avatar of a god. Instead he was gentle in everything he did, fussing over you before ever even beginning to think about himself, careful to always respect your boundaries and never make you uncomfortable if he could help it. He was not the man you expected to marry in any sense, but that did not matter. You really could not imagine getting luckier in an arranged marriage.

Your thoughts were quickly banished when Zen took a step back, this time causing you to whine from the sudden lack of friction between your legs. You watched him closely as he undid his pants, letting your eyes drift downward. You figured he was probably proportionate for someone of his height, but even so that was a lot more than you were used to. His tip was more tapered than a humans and had less of a pronounced head, though you knew even midway up that he was thick enough where you could not get you hand fully around him and the thought made the ache between your legs worse.

He did not immediately step back up to be against you, but instead leaned down to press his forehead to yours, “May I have all of you?”

The wording of his question felt right. Over the last week and a half or so you had given him parts of you, both physically and emotionally but still held quite a bit back.

Zen on the other hand was quick to give you all of himself, happily encouraging you to touch and explore him at your own pace. He had also made it clear in his confessions the other day that more than anything he wanted to be loved. The way he looked so worried when telling you, the ache in his voice when he asked if maybe one day you could love him, he was happy to give you his heart.

He had periodically reassured you that he would never ask for more than you were willing to give, and he was asking for a lot right now, but he was right; it was not more than you were willing to give.

You nuzzled your forehead against his, “Yes.”

The words had barely left your mouth before he scooped you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist without hesitation, and another needy, inelegant kiss shared between the two of you. You felt him gently lay you down on the bed, keeping as much contact with you as possible the whole time while trying to not crush you under his size.

He was massive compared to you and inadvertently pinning you under him. With his forehead still pressed against yours his tusks were on either side of your face, keeping you from from being able to turn your head or look away from him even if you wanted to.

You did not feel trapped though, instead it made you feel shielded and protected. Zen was always gentle and reassuring in everything he did, where his size and strength was intimidating initially now it was comforting.

“And you really want me? Truly?” he asked, almost sounding worried.

You reached up and tangled your hands into his hair to pull him closer and kiss his forehead before nuzzling against him, “All of you.”

There was an audible sigh as he must have been holding his breath while waiting on your answer. Any tension he had seemed to dissipate and he leaned a bit more of his weight onto you, just melting against you and purring louder than he ever had before.

He carefully began to reposition himself and used his knee to nudge your thighs farther apart. The two of you giggled as he tried to line himself up with you and kept missing and instead jabbing your thighs, it felt like being young and awkward and inexperienced all over again.

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his cock and felt him immediately buck into your hand while you tried to guide him in. His eagerness was charming in a way, excited but not pushy, and unable to hide it.

Finally you managed to help him find your entrance and felt the goosebumps prickle your skin as he slowly pushed in. You were thankful that he was more tapered at the tip and going slowly, though it did not outweigh the fact that he was still much larger than a human.

The sounds he was making were incredible though. Little whimpers interrupted by purring, deep shuddering breaths through an open mouth, and soft moans, you had never had a partner quite so vocal.

Slowly he continued to press into you, nuzzling you almost frantically as he did, but the gentle stretch was giving way to a bit of a sting even though he was barely a couple inches in. You winced, though he did not seem to notice. You took a few deep breaths trying to steady yourself, but it was not really helping as a ‘bit of a sting’ was quickly becoming just ‘hurting’.

Zen said something softly. Something you did not catch. Something that most definitely was not in common. But that hardly mattered now.

You let out a yelp when he gave a bit of an excited thrust that made him stop in his tracks. Quickly he pulled his face away from yours and was looking over you in a panic.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he blurted out.

“You’re umm…a bit much to handle” you awkwardly began, “I mean, you tower over humans.”

He looked back at you, taking a few moments to process what you meant before speaking, “Oh.”

Carefully he clamored off of you to lay at your side but did not try to pull you against himself or anything.

“I am sorry” he said.

“It’s ok, it was just an accident. We both just got a bit too excited”. You rolled onto your side to face him and give him a smile to try to reassure him.

“I was worried about this.”

“Worried? About what?”

“Hurting you.”

“I promise you it’s fine, it was an accident. And why were you worried about it?”

“Because you are so much smaller than a troll, and that has made me worry that maybe it would not be possible…” he trailed off.

“And would it matter if it wasn’t possible?”

“Of course not” he finally reached out to you to pull you closer to himself, “Whatever is possible is more than enough.”

“Then we go slow, and maybe warm up next time” you pressed a few soft kisses against his chest and could feel how his heart still was racing. You loved how the scent of incense always lingered on his skin.

--------

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @krayziee @zaqnette @emonatural191 @lets-imagineastory @lovingbadguys @after-laughter-come-tears @plathsotherib @nogoatsnoglori

(Sometimes mobile fights me when tagging people, apologies if it didn’t work!)

[emchante]

Angst idea coming up!!

I imagine there would be a school event let’s say and Daniel would go with his children of course, possibly want to take you with him, but his ex wife would insist that it’s a family event and you’re not family in any way or shape, no matter how much you take care of Daniel’s kids, this just isn’t a place for you and this could make Daniel uneasy because he’d see the logical part in his ex wife’s reasoning yet feel bad because you are his new partner and his kids like you and I imagine this uneasiness and perhaps indecisiveness from Daniel would spark uncertainty in you as well and that just hits right in the heart

~🫠

🫠 nonnie always pulling through.. i know that’s right!! but GOD?? the thought of this?? it pulls my heartstrings. the angst potential LORDDD.

you know the usual, drabble under the cut<3

“she’s not family, daniel,” is spat across the line, daniel wincing at the harshness in his ex-wife’s voice. “she looks after the kids— great. that doesn’t make her family all of a sudden.”

daniel’s fingers drum against the kitchen counter anxiously as she rambles on, adding more reasons why you shouldn’t be at the kids’ charity evening. parents were invited along of course, running stalls with their children. it was a great idea, the kids were so excited to tell you, daniel and their mother.

but they didn’t know themselves that their mother wasn’t onboard with it.

“it’s— it’s not fair to leave her out,” he interrupts, screwing his eyes shut in preparation for another shout down the phone. thankfully, it’s only a deep sigh so he can continue. “the kids love her, they were so excited to tell her,” he explains, a soft smile appearing on his face as he recalled the memory.

“i don’t care, daniel,” she tells him, and she definitely isn’t lying— he had never heard her sound so bored, apart from the times daniel had tried to organise date nights that were more.. him. not a good memory. “remind me what the first line of the handout says?”

daniel frowns out of confusion at the question, but obliges anyways. he grabs the sheet of paper from in front of him, opening it up and reading it out. “dear parents of—”

“there!” she shouts, daniel flinching at the sudden loudness. “parents, daniel. she is not their parent. never has been, never will be.”

daniel exhales deeply from his nose. fuck. he should’ve seen that coming. what happened to letters saying ‘parents or guardians’? he shakes his head, trying to think of a response.

but he doesn’t need to, as she speaks up again. “we aren’t discussing this any more now, daniel. break the news— although it really isn’t much of a newsflash— and then start organising your outfit,”

and then the line fell flat.

daniel places his phone on the counter, before allowing his head to fall into his hands with a heavy sigh. he was feeling many emotions. confusion— about the whole thing. upset— he wasn’t able to get his side in. anger— over the newsflash comment. you had come a long way with his kids, and be had a controversial opinion on who was a better mother figure to the two.

————————————

“you can’t come tomorrow.”

the words feel like a stab in the heart when you hear them. daniel had sat you down in the living room after the kids had gone upstairs to play, and told you that he needed to talk to you.

you assumed it was serious, but you didn’t think it was this.

“what?” is all that falls from your lips, as you’re too shocked to form a proper sentence. daniel isn’t even looking at you, he’s more focused on picking his the nail of his index finger.

“you can’t— you can’t come tomorrow. i’m sorry, i know it’s quite late to tell you, but.. yeah,” he trails off, voice low. he still isn’t looking at you, hasn’t done since he asked you to sit with him. it feels dismissive, it feels wrong. it feels like a completely different person in front of you.

“have i done something? we were so excited to bake with the kids and sell their cakes,” you plead, reminding him that just yesterday, you were both so happy about the event.

“look— it’s.. it’s a parent event, yeah?” daniel lets out, cringing at his words. he hates that he’s listening to her, he doesn’t even agree with the decision, but something is telling him he has to.

then again maybe he shouldn’t, because the moment he finally looks up, he sees the saddened look on your face. he couldn’t read every emotion you seemed to portray— you looked upset, hurt and maybe.. betrayed? fuck.

“and— and please believe me when i say you do such a great job looking after them,” he starts, raising his hands as he goes to ramble out something to save his ass.

but you interrupt him with a dry laugh, shutting your eyes as you take a deep breath in. your head falls, and you stare down at your trembling hands that lay atop your thighs. suddenly your vision gets blurry and— oh, the tears have started.

daniel’s heart breaks as he sees the tears welling in your eyes, and he reaches out to comfort you. he wasn’t expecting it to be reciprocated well, but he wasn’t expecting you to completely pull away from him.

“sweetheart—” “don’t sweetheart me, daniel,” you snap, licking your suddenly dry lips. “i thought— i thought that maybe..” you started, daniel’s heart cracking even more at the wobble in your voice. “fuck— i really thought things were moving into a new chapter. i thought that the kids were seeing me as something more than just.. a babysitter. i thought you were starting to see me as something more than a fuck every now and then, like it was in the beginning.”

daniel gapes at your words, and shit. he hadn’t even thought about how the whole situation would have looked without context. but then again, would it have been better with it? it was too late to find out now, anyways.

“no— no, you know it’s not like that,” he tells you firmly, going to reach a hand out for you to comfort you, but he was taken aback when you abruptly stood up.

“i think i’m going to go,” you told him, not allowing nor wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say. as soon as you walked out the living room, he could only stare at the floor in disbelief.

he was trying so hard to obey to his ex, that he was completely disregarding you— his current partner’s— feelings. what the fuck was wrong with him?

he was brought back to reality when you had shouted upstairs to the kids, telling them you had to head back to your own house tonight— that there was some leftover work you had to do. daniel turned his head to the side, watching as his kids ran downstairs to give you a big hug, whining about how they wanted you to stay.

you didn’t even spare him a glance as you said your goodbyes, and he felt like the slammed front door was the only goodbye he’d be getting.

he had really fucked it.

okay honestly i did NOT expect it to get to 1k words.. LOL. angst just really draws me in and i get carried away!! thank you 🫠 nonnie again for this wonderful idea, you’re a godsend<3<3

part 2, perhaps? 👀

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma (Angst-ish)

“You don’t love me and I’m being really brave about it.”

-

The air is soft and cool, like a blanket made from silk. You take it as a good sign, smile up at the traffic sign above you like it’s a flower or an ornament. 

How silly that love can make ordinary things bloom.

Tonight you feel good in your clothes. No need to worry about tomorrow. 

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your jacket but you don’t want to pull it out right now. You want to stay in the moment, right here, enjoy that buzzing feeling inside of you.

Maybe tonight, you think. Maybe tonight something will happen.

You’re not insecure, not questioning, not doubting anything. 

Just waiting, patiently, for something that sure will come.

-

You spot him first, head buried in his hoody, eyes on the phone in his hand. 

Knowing Kenma, he’s playing a game to pass the time.

You don’t wave, but keep your eyes on him as you come closer. It’s rare that you get to enjoy that sight for yourself, that you can watch without being watched.

He’s pretty. Always has been, you think, even though you’ve only really had a chance to befriend him lately. But you’ve seen the pictures, and besides, you can’t imagine him being anything but.

Just a few more steps to go but he raises his head and spots you without hesitation, the pupils of eyes growing smaller.

You’ve read about it, you can’t help but think. How the size of one’s pupil tells about their attraction. 

A first seed of doubt begins to sprout but you push it down with a well-practiced smile.

“Hi,” you greet him, your voice weirdly breathless. You’re not that out of shape, he just does that to you. Do you shake his hand? Hug him?

He makes no move to greet you other than a quiet nod so you think that’s it and push down the disappointment. Kenma hugs Hinata. 

Well, everyone hugs Hinata, you tell yourself, and look for something to say.

“Are we early?”

“No,” he dips his nose deeper into his hoody. “Kuroo’s not coming.”

“O-oh,” you pull out your phone to check. He’s right. The message is there, in the group chat. Right below it is another one, from Hinata.

“Can’t make it tonight, sorry guys. Rain check?”

“Should we-?”

“I’m going to watch the movie,” Kenma interrupts you, voice level. He doesn’t sound angry, or annoyed, or even bored, he just… sounds. Is flat the right word for it?

“Okay?”

His eyes, big and round and golden, move toward you and back to the sign above the door. “You can join me if you want.”

-

The movie isn’t bad. You like action movies, even the dumber ones. There’s a reason why Hinata still invites you to these hangouts, after all.

But you know you’re missing a crucial part of knowledge about the game this movie is based on.

There are jokes you don’t get that leave Kenma chuckling to himself and you can’t help but wonder what he thinks of you. Does he know you’re- Well, he has to, right? 

You know he’s a little more on the shy side. Or, not shy, but more… private? 

Maybe this is his way of getting a date with you?

The thought electrifies you.

But no. Kenma’s not acting like a guy on a date. He’s not sharing his food with you, has not even tried to pay for yours or initiate any conversation so far. 

If you’d have to describe it, it would be like… getting to come along with your big brother.

Your face twists into a scowl. That is not the kind of thing you want to associate with Kenma.

-

“Do you wanna eat something?” You ask once you leave the cinema, dust your clothes off and get rid of the last remnants of popcorn and stray skittles. 

Kenma hesitates for a second.

“Yeah, why not?”

You follow him out of the Cinema and down the street.

The wind is soothing on your warm cheeks. A couple walks down the street, facing you. Your heart squeezes tight when the guy swings their joined hands.

As they pass, Kenma steps out of their way, bumping into you. 

He does not apologize.

It feels like a sign. A different one this time.

-

The restaurant is small but private and Kenma finds a booth at the back, orders like someone who’s been here before. You need a little longer to figure out what you want but then there’s nothing else to do but wait.

Kenma pulls out his phone, looks at the unlit screen and puts it face down on the table.

“Do you have a crush on me?”

His voice is even, like he’s reading from the menu and it takes you a second to register the meaning of the words.

Your mouth opens, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

Nonetheless, your silence is answer enough. Your eyes fall back down to the table.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma mutters and there’s almost warmth to his words now.

He says nothing more for a while and you swallow a bout of tears that’s threatening to spill.

Silly you, you think.

Doubts and insecurities raise their ugly heads.

“Kuroo thought you might be into Shouyou,” Kenma starts anew. When you look up he’s staring out the window. “Cuz you’re always mothering him.”

“I’m not-”

“You’re like Kuroo, in that way,” Kenma adds on, as if he’s not hearing you. “Always bothering people. You bring extra water bottles and extra pain killers and a snack in case someone gets hungry and you remind them of their appointments.”

Your fingers clench around the utensils that are useless without any food but you need to hold onto something real if you want to survive this.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Golden eyes turn back to you and you wonder how it has taken you so long to realize that gold is not warm. Gold is a metal, heavy and cold, and not at all made for cuddling.

“Shouyou is my friend,” Kenma points out. “He doesn’t mind being mothered.”

“So?”

“You’d do better with a partner that likes that part of you. We all want-” He stops for a second, the first time you’ve seen him hesitate. “It’s not good if you have to change who you are for a relationship to work.”

“You could have just said you’re not interested,” you point out, petulance winning over the hurt. Or maybe the hurt is triggering it.

Kenma blinks slowly. “I am trying to be a good friend here.”

“Who’s friend?”

He opens his mouth to answer but the food arrives and he pulls back again, stares at you silently, like a cat stalking its prey.

“I’m not good at verbalizing my thoughts,” he begins again when the server has left. “You remind me of Kuroo in some way. I think-” He hesitates again. “If you want a partner that you can mother, you should try dating Shouyou.”

“I don’t want to date Hinata.”

Kenma sighs. “You could try Kuroo but I think-”

Your chopsticks dig into your hands as you interrupt him, pointing them at him like a weapon. “Stop it,” you hiss. “You’re not interested and that’s it. You don’t need to push me into someone else's arms like I’m something too valuable to throw away but not valuable enough to actually cherish.”

His face goes slack. He tries to speak again but you turn your face away and begin eating, stuffing your face with a pace that can’t be healthy but you just want to get out of here, out of this conversation.

Quiet settles. Your cheeks sting as if sensing the coming tears. But you don’t cry.

You finish first and get up, squeezing the handle of your purse so tight in your hand that it hurts. 

“The bill is on me,” you tell Kenma. “Have a good night.”

-

part 2 is coming tomorrow

Taglist: @notsochillnerd

@kaykaystrings @alienaiver @alexxavicry @tsxkishimx @stellar-haikyuu

@fuzztacular (for the angst)

[changbeansss]

Pocket worm pact

Pairings : Seo Changbin x reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : None

You and Changbin were sprawled on the couch, the remnants of your latest binge-watch session scattered across the coffee table. The soft glow of the TV flickered in the dim light, but it didn’t really matter; your attention was entirely focused on the boy curled up beside you. His head was resting against your shoulder, and his arms were wrapped snugly around your waist. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, a comforting presence that made you feel safe and cherished.

“Binnie,” you said, breaking the peaceful silence. He tilted his head up to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes, bunny?” His voice was soft, like a gentle whisper, and it made your heart flutter.

You couldn’t help but grin. You loved how he always made time to give you pet names, even when he was half-asleep. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

He blinked, taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion. “A worm?” He chuckled lightly, the sound bubbling up like a giggle. “Why would you be a worm?”

“Just imagine it! If I turned into a squiggly little worm, would you still love me?” You prodded, your laughter mixing with his.

Changbin sat up, pretending to ponder your question seriously, stroking his chin as if he were a wise philosopher. “Hmm… well, I guess I would love you because you’d still be my bunny,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smile.

“But what if I was just a slimy, wriggly creature, Binnie? I wouldn’t even have my cute little bunny ears!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up dramatically.

“Bunny ears can be overrated,” he countered, his voice full of mock seriousness. “You’d still have your adorable little face… and I could just carry you around in my pocket! Like a pocket worm!”

You burst out laughing at the image of Changbin walking around with a tiny worm version of you in his pocket, like a new-age pet. “A pocket worm? Can you imagine how chaotic that would be? I’d be like, ‘Hey, Binnie, put me down for a second! I want to explore!’”

“Exploring would be tricky with no arms or legs, don’t you think?” He teased, poking your side, making you squirm.

“True! But I’d find a way! I’d wiggle my way through the grass, just like a worm should!” You flailed your arms for emphasis, your laughter echoing off the walls.

Changbin leaned back against the couch, giggling. “You’d be the most adventurous worm out there! But I don’t think you’d like it if it rained. Worms don’t like getting washed away!”

“Yeah, but if it rains, I could just cling to you, and you’d keep me safe!” You said, leaning closer, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Plus, you’d have to make sure to feed me dirt! How romantic!”

“Dirt? That sounds gourmet!” He exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d just received shocking news. “What kind of worm would you be? A garden worm or a nightcrawler?”

“Definitely a garden worm! I want to be the kind that helps plants grow,” you declared proudly, your heart swelling at the thought.

Changbin’s expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re already helping me grow every day, bunny. Worm or not, I’d love you just the same.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you beamed at him. “Aww, Binnie! You’re the best boyfriend a worm could ask for!”

“I just want to make sure my pocket worm is happy,” he said, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “So, how about we make a pact?”

“A pact?” you echoed, intrigued.

“If you ever turn into a worm, I’ll turn into a giant bird. That way, I can carry you everywhere, and no rain will wash you away!” he said, grinning like a child with a bright idea.

“Deal!” you laughed, sealing your whimsical agreement with a dramatic handshake. “But let’s just hope that neither of us turns into a worm or a bird anytime soon!”

“Agreed! I prefer you as my bunny,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace, his laughter mingling with yours.

As you cuddled together, the chaotic conversation gradually faded into the comforting rhythm of each other's breathing. You knew that with Changbin, every moment—whether as a bunny, a worm, or anything in between—was filled with love, laughter, and the delightful chaos that made your relationship so special.

[starclancy]

How would the Straw hat crew react to female reader singing “Carry on wayward son” (from Supernatural) but she is singing it in a soft calming tone like if she is doing something, like cooking, or cleaning, or doing some work, and they think she has a beautiful voice?

Tysm for this ask it was so fun to write!!

~ Calming Melody ~

PAIRING: Reader/Luffy, Reader/Zoro, Reader/Sanji, Reader/Robin, Reader/Nami, Reader/Brook, Reader/Franky, Reader/Usopp,

CONTENTS: 🩷 - fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1110

Request status: Open

Luffy

Luffy was sprawled across the deck, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin. The faint sound of Y/N’s voice drifted through the air as she hummed and sang while cleaning the galley.

He perked up immediately, sitting upright. “Whoa, Y/N! Your voice is so cool!” he shouted, barging into the galley without a second thought.

“Luffy!” Y/N laughed, pausing her scrubbing. “Don’t just yell at me like that!”

“But it’s true!” he insisted, grinning ear to ear. “Sing it again! Sing it louder this time!”

Before Y/N could protest, Luffy started singing—or at least tried to mimic her tune with his own enthusiastic (and tone-deaf) twist.

Zoro

Zoro was in the training room, lifting weights when he heard it. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but as Y/N’s voice carried through the corridors, he stopped mid-rep to listen more closely.

Her soft, calming tone reminded him of the peace he felt during a quiet afternoon nap. Curious, he followed the sound, finding her calmly chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

“You sing a lot while you work?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. “Oh, sorry. Did I bother you?”

“Not at all.” Zoro smirked slightly, crossing his arms. “It’s… nice. Keep going if you want.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he found himself lingering nearby, pretending to check his swords just to hear more.

Nami

Nami was mapping in her corner of the ship when Y/N’s song reached her. At first, she didn’t pay much attention, but the melody wormed its way into her focus. The soothing tone helped her relax and concentrate, drawing a soft smile to her face.

“Y/N,” she called out, stepping into the kitchen. “Are you trying to put us all in a trance with that voice of yours?”

Y/N laughed, wiping her hands. “I didn’t think anyone could hear me!”

“Well, we can, and it’s gorgeous. You should do it more often.” Nami leaned against the counter, smirking. “Though, don’t be surprised if the others start making requests.”

Usopp

Usopp was tinkering with one of his gadgets when Y/N’s voice wafted through the open deck. He froze, his hands mid-motion, as he strained to hear better.

“Is that… Y/N?” he whispered to himself. A grin spread across his face, and he quickly abandoned his project, heading to the source of the music.

“Y/N! That was amazing!” he burst into the kitchen. “Your voice is so good, it could probably charm sea kings!”

“Don’t exaggerate, Usopp.” Y/N rolled her eyes with a laugh.

“No, really!” Usopp gestured dramatically. “With that voice, you could tell an entire story and make everyone cry by the end!”

Sanji

Sanji was already in the kitchen, working on the crew’s next meal when Y/N started singing. He froze mid-stir, the spoon clattering into the pot as he turned to watch her in awe.

“Y/N… your voice is incredible,” he said softly, his usual flirtatious tone replaced by genuine admiration.

She blushed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were listening.”

“Listening?” He grabbed her hands dramatically. “I feel like I’ve just heard an angel! Please, Y/N, let me cook to your beautiful melody forever!”

Y/N laughed, playfully pushing him away as he swooned. “Get back to work, Sanji!”

Robin

Robin was reading on the upper deck when Y/N’s soft singing reached her ears. She closed her book, her lips curving into a gentle smile as she let the soothing tones wash over her.

Finding Y/N in the galley, she lingered in the doorway, not wanting to disturb her. When Y/N paused, Robin clapped softly.

“Beautiful as always, Y/N,” she said, stepping into the room.

“Oh, Robin, you’re too kind!” Y/N said, feeling shy.

“Not at all,” Robin replied, her eyes twinkling. “Your voice brings a rare peace to this ship. Thank you for sharing it with us.”

Franky

Franky was busy hammering away at a repair on the ship when he noticed the mood shift around him. Something in the air felt… calmer. He set his tools down and followed the sound, eventually finding Y/N humming as she worked.

“Y/N, that’s SUPER!” he exclaimed, striking a pose.

Y/N chuckled. “Thanks, Franky.”

“Your voice is like… the soul of a rock ballad but way more chill!” he said, grinning. “You ever think about starting a band?”

“I think one noisy ship is enough for me,” Y/N teased.

Brook

Brook was the most thrilled of all. As a musician, he had an ear for talent, and Y/N’s voice captivated him immediately. He practically floated into the room where she was singing, his violin in hand.

“Yohohoho! Y/N, your voice is music to my ears—quite literally!” he said.

“Thanks, Brook.” Y/N smiled. “Do you want to play along?”

“Of course!” Brook started playing a gentle accompaniment, his notes harmonizing with her voice perfectly. By the end of the song, the whole crew had gathered to listen.

“Encore!” Brook declared, bowing dramatically. “Your voice deserves to be shared with the world, my dear!”

[arpicityandneed]

Imagine being Loki and Thor's sister, very sheltered and destined to one day be sent away from Asgard for a political marriage of some sort. They've both always been a little miffed about this arrangement, but they cope by taking all of your 'firsts' before you go.

18+ Dark Content. big brother!Loki, big brother!Thor. tw incest, creampie, dirty talk, spit roast. Cuckolding.

You grew up to be the most delicate flower the kingdom had ever seen, beautiful, kind, sheltered, and protected by the royal guard and your brothers until you were dependent upon them for everything.

They didn't mind.

Thor would stop mid feast if you needed him to read you a bedtime story, and Loki used every ounce of magic he had to make illusions that made you giggle and laugh.

But the threat of your marriage hung over all over heads like a death sentence. Especially once they learned you'd be leaving Asgard for good once you were married.

"Father, you must reconsider. How is she to exist outside these walls without us, married to a brute?" Thor argued to the AllFather while you slept soundly a few nights before you were to be sent off. Your new husband had made no effort to hide that he only saw you as a way to have heirs from a powerful bloodline.

"Their family has old blood Thor, old enough even our family recognizes it. It is a good allyship and that's final." Odin stared down his son ominously, and Thor felt his blood boil.

"If I may, Father, at least allow us to escort her to her new home. Give her some comfort at least." Loki spoke quickly, knowing if he didn't there would be another eye lost and not from his father's face.

Odin considered, for a moment before nodding tightly.

"But this is the last I am to here of this matter."

~

"I don't want to go. I want to stay with you. I wish I were marrying you and Loki instead." You wailed, fully sobbing as your brothers held you close after telling you what your father had said.

"Don't cry, little one. Please don't cry," Thor begged as he rocked you.

"It'll be alright sister, I have my magic. No one will keep us from you no matter how far apart." Loki tried to convince you but it just made you cry harder, clinging to his hand as Thor cradled you against his broad chest.

"No, b-because he'll own me. I'll be h-his and he'll get to make me b-bear his children..." Thor's jaw clenched and he looked to Loki quietly. It was easy enough for Loki to guess his brother's thoughts after hundreds of years, but for once Loki was in complete agreement.

"What if we put a child in your belly first?" Loki murmured as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. For the first time since they'd told your about Odin's words your crying died down a little.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" You looked between the two of them with wide hopeful eyes, squeezing Loki's hand tight.

"Of course we would. Your ours, always have been and always will be." Thor's deep voice was gentle but completely serious. You wiped your tears, sitting up a bit taller.

"I'd much rather have your babies than his. I love you both, so very much." It was simply the truth, one the three of you all knew.

"Then let us show you how much we love you, sister."

~

The hours had blurred. What had started with gentle kisses and soft touched had long since devolved in hazy, animalistic sex.

"Another." Thor's massive hand slapped down on the fat of your ass, his cock pounding into your gushing insides relentlessly. Loki was groaning as you practiced deep throating him for the second time that night.

"Good technique. I think dear sister, fuck that's good, we've made you into a whore." Loki sounded pleased, Thor only growled in warning. They'd had this argument several times as the night wore on.

"Am I too lewd brother?" You'd asked when you'd demanded they teach you how to make them cum with your mouth so they could use you at the same time.

"Not at all, I quite like knowing you have some whorishness in you. Just needed to be nurtured." Loki purred as he kissed you, deeper than before. You heard a loud CRACK! and looked up to find Thor breaking the arm of the chair he'd been resting in.

"If that man touches you like we have I'm killing him. Allyship, war, all of it be damned. If he touches you I'm burning his kingdom to the ground." It wasn't a bellow like his normal good natured threats, this was quiet and deadly serious.

"Yes, yes. Only for us. Or Thor will kill your future husband." Loki laughed as he tugged on your hair forcing you down the last few inches until your nose was buried in his pubes. When you merely blinked up at him all pretty and wet eyed he barely got out a warning before he was coming down your throat.

You gasped for air when your brother released you. You'd lost count of how many loads you'd taken from them both, but each one made you feel greedier. You wanted to drown from the inside until you were marked irrevocably and their claim on you was undeniable.

"Breathe love, Thor give her space-" Loki combed your hair away from your face, trying to look in your eyes and check that you're okay.

"No!" You moaned as you fucked yourself back on your brother's girth shamelessly. "M-more, don't want to stop. Not till it t-takes. Please? Please please please," You begged shamelessly as Thor groaned and fucked you through his orgasm, each spurt squelching out around his cock onto the drenched sheets.

"Shh love, you know how Loki worries. We won't stop until you're with child. We promised didn't we?" Thor kissed your shoulder as he reached around to tease your clit, his fingers growing slick the more he played with your nub. "Because the only children you'll be having are ours."

"Even-"

"Even after you're married to that oaf, you'll still be good for us won't you?" Loki placed two fingers under your chin to make you look at him, your eyes glazed over and adoring.

"Yes."

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 31/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Slight!Smut, Language, age gap, angst, fluff

Word Count: 8459

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

It was late November, the air crisp but not too cold, and you sat on Jared’s porch in the backyard, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the scene. Jared’s wife and kids were out of town, leaving the house quiet except for the low murmur of conversation and the occasional sound of Jensen pacing in the yard below. Jensen was on the phone with Danneel—again. The tension in his voice was unmistakable, even though you couldn’t make out the exact words.

You took a sip from your beer, your shoulders slumping as you let out a sigh. It was the same story over and over. Danneel had promised to sign the divorce papers weeks ago, and yet here you were, nearly at the end of November, and nothing had changed. Every time it seemed like progress was being made, something would come up—some excuse, some new argument, and the papers would remain unsigned.

Jared, who was sitting beside you on the porch, glanced at you, clearly noticing your frustration. He took a swig of his own beer, his eyes drifting over to Jensen, who was pacing the backyard, his voice rising and falling as he argued with Danneel. It was hard not to feel the weight of the situation. This whole thing had been dragging on for far too long, and it was taking a toll on everyone—especially Jensen.

“Seems like it’s never gonna end, huh?”, Jared said quietly, breaking the silence between you. He leaned back in his chair, watching Jensen with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance. "I hate seeing him like this. He deserves better".

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. The frustration and uncertainty had been building up inside you for weeks. You knew how much Jensen was struggling, caught between trying to do right by his kids and wanting to move forward with his life—and with you. But as long as Danneel kept dragging her feet, it felt like you were all stuck in limbo, waiting for something that might never happen.

“I just don’t get it”, you finally muttered, your voice tinged with frustration. “She said she would sign. What’s she waiting for? It’s like she’s doing this just to keep him tied up in knots”.

Jared let out a soft grunt of agreement. “That’s exactly what she’s doing. She knows what she’s doing, keeping him on edge like this. It’s about control, and she doesn’t want to let go of it”.

You sighed, resting your elbows on your knees as you watched Jensen continue to pace. You hated seeing him like this—so stressed, so caught up in a situation that seemed to have no end in sight. You knew how much he loved his kids, how important it was to him to be a good father, and that made everything more complicated. Danneel knew exactly how to push his buttons, and she wasn’t afraid to use the kids as leverage.

“He can’t keep living like this”, you said softly, more to yourself than to Jared.

Jared nodded, his gaze still fixed on Jensen. “No, he can’t. But until Danneel lets go, I don’t know what else he can do. It’s like she’s holding him hostage, and there’s only so much he can push before it affects the kids even more”.

You knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. You took another sip of your beer, trying to push away the gnawing feeling of helplessness. This wasn’t how you’d imagined things would be when you and Jensen started this relationship. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the constant back and forth with Danneel, the endless waiting, was starting to wear you down.

After a few more minutes of pacing, Jensen finally hung up the phone, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He walked over to the porch, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He didn’t say anything at first, just dropped heavily into the chair beside you, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s still not ready to sign”, he muttered, his voice tight with anger. “Every time I think we’re making progress, she pulls something like this”.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, offering him a small squeeze of support. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I know how hard this is for you”.

Jared leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious. “You can’t let her keep doing this, man. She’s dragging this out for control, not because she has a good reason. You’ve done everything you can to be fair”.

Jensen nodded, but his eyes were distant, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. “I just don’t know what else to do, man. I don’t want to make things worse for the kids”.

Jared sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get that. But you deserve to move on with your life too. She can’t keep you trapped like this forever”.

You sat there in silence for a moment, the three of you watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Jensen stared off into the distance, his expression unreadable, before he finally ran his hands roughly over his face, letting out a long breath. Then, without saying much, he stood up and held out his hand toward you.

“C'mon”, he mumbled, his voice low but insistent.

You looked up at him, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion, then glanced toward Jared, who gave you an equally puzzled look. “What?”, you asked quietly, unsure of what he had in mind.

“Just.. come”, Jensen urged again, wiggling his hand for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he was planning, but there was something in his eyes—a mix of determination and vulnerability—that made you reach for his hand without question. Little did you know, Jensen had something significant planned. He’d been holding onto a secret, undecided, but now, in this moment, it seemed like he was ready to show you something he hadn’t even mentioned yet-.

As you stood up, Jared, clearly intrigued, followed suit. “Hold up, I want in on this too”, Jared said, grinning as he stepped beside you and Jensen. “I mean, if it’s something dirty or crazy, I’m definitely not missing out”.

Jensen gave a small, exasperated smile, shaking his head slightly but not giving away any details. “Trust me, it’s neither. But you can come if you want”.

Jared feigned disappointment, crossing his arms in mock frustration. “Well, that’s a shame, but I’ll still tag along. Can’t have you two going off on some mysterious adventure without me”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Jared’s playful attitude, but your curiosity grew.

The three of you walked toward the driveway, and Jensen didn’t say much as he led you to your car, but his grip on your hand was steady, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Jared hopped into the backseat as Jensen opened the passenger door for you. Once you were all settled in the car, Jensen finally spoke up, his voice calm but a little uncertain.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about”, he began, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the driveway. “Something I haven’t told you yet”.

You stared at him, still puzzled by the silence. Jensen hadn’t said anything more since he’d mentioned having something on his mind, and with each passing second, your curiosity and anxiety grew. You could feel the weight of the unspoken words, but it was the uncertainty that really got to you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at Jared through the rearview mirror before turning back to Jensen, who was focused on the road.

“Just tell me, Jensen!”, you finally burst out, your voice a little more tense than you intended.

Deep down, a familiar fear had started to bubble up—one you had felt before, especially after the times Jensen had been slightly dismissive or distant following another argument with Danneel. The uncertainty always left you feeling like you were bracing for something worse, something you couldn’t control.

“Please”.

Jensen glanced over at you, his eyes soft but determined, as if he could feel the worry creeping into your thoughts. He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I want you to see it first”, he mumbled.

That didn’t help the knot in your stomach, but you tried to push the fear aside, trusting him. He wouldn’t lead you into something bad. He wouldn’t do that, right?

Jared, sensing the tension, leaned forward from the backseat and made an exaggerated groaning sound. “Man, you’re killing the suspense! If you’ve got some big secret, just spill it already. We’re dying here!". His teasing tone cut through the heaviness in the air, making you chuckle despite yourself.

Jensen shot him a quick look in the mirror, shaking his head again but with more amusement this time. “It’s not like that, Jared”, he said, though there was a slight grin on his face now. “Just be patient”.

You exhaled, trying to settle your nerves as the car continued down the road. Whatever this was, it had to be important, and Jensen’s tone didn’t carry the weight of something negative. But still, after everything with Danneel and the constant uncertainty of where things stood, it was hard not to let your mind wander to darker places.

"Don’t worry”, Jensen mumbled, though there was a slight nervousness in his voice that you couldn’t ignore. He placed his palm gently on your thigh, squeezing softly as his eyes flicked over to meet yours for just a moment before returning to the road. The brief glance was filled with reassurance, but there was still something in his expression—a vulnerability he hadn’t shown in a while.

You tried to relax, the warmth of his hand grounding you a little, though the tension still lingered at the back of your mind. You trusted him, but the unease from the past weeks, with Danneel’s constant presence in his life and the uncertainty about where everything was headed, made it hard to fully let go of the worry.

Jared, clearly sensing the unspoken tension, shifted in the backseat, trying to break the silence with his usual humor. “Well, whatever it is, it better be good, man. You’ve got the both of us on the edge of our seats here. If it’s not some grand romantic gesture, you’re in trouble”, he teased, winking at you in the rearview mirror.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, though it was clear his mind was still focused on whatever was coming next. “I think you’ll both like it”, he muttered, his voice softer now, as if he was gathering himself before revealing what he’d been holding back. His thumb traced light circles on your leg, an absentminded gesture that soothed your nerves just a little.

A few minutes later, Jensen turned down a quiet street, lined with trees that cast soft shadows on the road.

He continued down the private, tree-lined road. As the trees thickened, the houses became more secluded, each hidden behind dense foliage, with small, private driveways.

Jensen’s grip on your thigh tightened for just a moment before he turned into the driveway at the very end of the road. The tires crunched softly over the gravel as the car slowed to a stop in front of a beautiful, secluded house. It was large, but had a cozy, inviting feel to it. There were tall trees surrounding it, offering both shade and a sense of seclusion, making it feel like a hidden oasis tucked away from the rest of the world.

You stared at the house, a mix of surprise and awe filling you. It was stunning, with a modern but homey design—clean lines, big windows, and a porch that wrapped around the front, giving it a warm, welcoming feel.

Jensen turned off the engine and exhaled deeply, his hand slipping from your leg as he leaned back in his seat, glancing at you.

“I got the keys yesterday”, Jensen admitted, his voice quieter now. “I haven’t even taken a look inside yet. An old friend of mine did me a favor—said I could come by, take a look, see if it feels right”.

He opened his door, the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he stepped out. “Alright, kids, let’s get out”, he mumbled, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though the nerves were still there, evident in the way he kept flexing his hands.

You stared at Jensen, still not fully understanding what was happening. “What?”, you mumbled under your breath, feeling slightly out of the loop. Jared’s eyes, on the other hand, went wide with realization. Without a second thought, he stepped out of the car and gave Jensen a rough shove on the shoulder, catching you by surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”, Jared exclaimed, shoving him again, this time with even more excitement.

Jared’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it quickly became clear that whatever Jensen was revealing was big—bigger than you had initially thought. Jared, obviously thrilled at the prospect, looked like he couldn’t believe his buddy was moving back Austin.

Jensen just chuckled softly, sticking one hand into his jeans pocket and raising his other hand in a mock surrender. “I haven’t bought it yet”, he said, his voice calm but tinged with that same nervous energy that had been there earlier. The weight of the moment hung between you all.

You stepped around the car, your heart beating a little faster. “Bought?”, you asked quietly, the confusion in your voice giving way to realization. Jensen was talking about buying this house.

Jensen’s gaze softened when he looked at you, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. This was a huge step, one he clearly hadn’t expected to take so soon—or at least, not without talking to you first. “Yeah”, he admitted, his voice lowering as he took a breath. “I’ve been thinking about it. Moving back, finding something stable. And this place… I don’t know. It feels right. But I wanted you to see it first”.

Your heart skipped a beat at Jensen’s words. The idea of him moving back to Austin, especially so soon, wasn’t something you’d fully wrapped your head around. And now, standing here in front of this beautiful house, he was asking for your opinion, your involvement in the decision. The weight of it all hit you at once—this wasn’t just about a house. This was about him wanting to build a life with you.

You looked up at him, still trying to process what this all meant. “You really want me to help you decide? You want me to… move in with you?”. The question slipped out quietly, almost as if you were afraid to ask it, unsure if it was too soon to even think about something so serious.

Jensen’s gaze softened even more, and though he was clearly nervous, his determination never wavered. “Yeah”, he mumbled, his voice low but steady. “I can’t buy it until the divorce is finalized, but no matter what happens, I’d love to come back to Austin. To start fresh… With you”.

The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, making your heart race. He wasn’t just talking about the house—he was talking about a life, a future, one where the chaos of everything with Danneel and the divorce could finally be behind him, behind you both.

You blinked, glancing between him and the house, the realization settling in. “You really want this?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen nodded, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “I do”, he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “I want this for us. I know things are complicated right now, but this… this feels right. I want to build something here. Somewhere that feels like home”.

Your heart swelled with emotions—hope, love, fear, all swirling together. The thought of making such a huge step, of really committing to this new chapter with him, was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But there was no denying the way your heart responded to his words. You wanted it too, even if the idea scared you.

Jared, standing to the side with his arms crossed, broke the moment with a playful grin. “Man, you’re really going all in, huh?”. He nudged Jensen with his elbow. “But hey, if you’re coming back to Austin, you know I’ve got your back”.

Jensen chuckled, though the nervousness hadn’t fully left him. “I can’t buy anything until the divorce is finalized, but I’m ready to make the move".

You looked back at Jensen, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “What if things with Danneel get worse?”, you asked quietly, the lingering fears bubbling to the surface. “What if she makes it harder for you?”.

“No matter what Danneel does, I’m moving forward. I’m not letting her hold me back anymore. I want to come back to Austin, and I want you with me”.

He was choosing you—choosing a life where you were central to his future, despite the uncertainty.

You took a deep breath, the emotions swirling inside you almost too much to handle. Despite everything Jensen had said, the weight of the decision still lingered. You wanted to be absolutely sure, to hear him say it again, to erase any doubts that might still be lingering in the back of your mind.

“Jensen”, you whispered, your voice wavering slightly, “are you really sure? Do you really want me to move in with you?”.

For a moment, he just looked at you, and then, to your surprise, a wide grin spread across his face. He rolled his eyes in that playful way that told you he wasn’t annoyed, just amused by your persistence. “You´re for real right now?”, he asked, his tone light but full of affection. “How many times do I have to say it?”.

He squeezed your hand again, pulling you closer until you were standing almost chest to chest. “I want this, alright? I want you. I want us. This isn’t just some spur-of-the-moment decision”. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ve thought about it, and yes, I want you to move in with me. I want to build a life together here. You’re a part of my future, no matter what happens”.

The warmth in his words made your heart race, and for a moment, everything else—the divorce, the uncertainties, the complications—seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Jensen, standing there in front of this house that could very well become your home.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, laughing softly at your own emotions. “Okay”, you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want this too”.

Jensen’s grin only grew wider as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring, “Good, because I’m not doing this without you”.

Jared, who had been standing to the side, watching the whole thing unfold with a soft smile on his face, finally spoke up. “Alright, lovebirds”, he teased, clapping his hands together. “Are we gonna check out this house or what? Because I’m dying to see it”.

You both laughed, and Jensen loosened his grip on you, his hand still firmly holding yours as he nodded toward the front door. “Let’s take a look inside”, he said, his tone lighter now, filled with excitement.

And with that, the three of you walked toward the front door, stepping into what could be the start of a new chapter—a home, a future, and a life together.

Jensen led you and Jared through the large front door, and as soon as you stepped inside, the house took your breath away.

The entrance opened into a grand foyer with towering ceilings and polished, dark wood floors that gleamed under the soft, natural light filtering in from the oversized windows. The walls were a warm shade of cream, and the space exuded a modern yet welcoming feel. Above you, a large wrought-iron chandelier hung, casting soft light that filled the room.

Immediately to your right, a formal dining room stood, framed by large archways and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in abundant sunlight. The dining table was modern and sleek, made from rich, dark wood, with plush, cream-colored chairs. French doors led out to the side yard, offering a private outdoor dining space.

The heart of the house was the expansive living room, which flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. This open-concept space had a stunning blend of modern luxury and comfortable design. The living room had towering windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, giving you a clear view of the stunning backyard and the Colorado River just beyond. The focal point of the room was a modern stone fireplace, embedded into a wall of rich wood paneling, and surrounded by a large L-shaped couch with oversized, plush cushions.

Above, the gallery on the second floor overlooked the living room, creating an impressive open space that felt both expansive and connected. The high ceilings, clean lines, and modern furnishings gave the room a sense of understated elegance.

The kitchen was a damn dream. With sleek, custom cabinetry painted in a soft dove gray and expansive white quartz countertops, it was both practical and beautiful. A large island sat at the center, big enough for several people to gather around with its high-top barstools. The island was topped with a waterfall edge, the quartz cascading down the sides in a beautiful, smooth finish. The appliances were top-of-the-line stainless steel, seamlessly integrated into the cabinetry, and there was huge stove, double ovens, and a built-in wine fridge.

The kitchen flowed into a cozy breakfast nook, complete with a round table that looked out through large windows to the backyard.

And what a backyard it was.

Through the oversized glass doors, you stepped out onto a wide stone patio that extended the entire length of the house. There was an outdoor kitchen with a built-in grill, sink, and refrigerator. The patio opened up into an immaculately landscaped backyard. A sparkling pool was the centerpiece, with its sleek, modern design framed by stone and shaded by large oak trees. The pool had a built-in hot tub that flowed seamlessly into the main swimming area, the water cascading over the edges in a gentle, soothing sound.

Near the pool, a stone fireplace sat surrounded by a circle of comfortable outdoor lounge chairs, creating a cozy space for gatherings on cooler evenings. Beyond the perfectly manicured lawn, you could see the Colorado River glimmering in the sunlight. A small path led down to a private pier, where a few lounge chairs and a small dock were set up. It was the perfect place for fishing, launching a kayak, or just sitting by the water, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

As you made your way back inside, Jensen led you upstairs to the second floor. The gallery overlooked the living room and kitchen below, and the sleek iron railing contrasted beautifully with the rich wood floors. Upstairs, there were four spacious bedrooms, each designed with large windows that brought in natural light. The master bedroom was the best, with a private balcony that offered sweeping views of the backyard and the river. Inside the master bedroom, there was an oversized walk-in closet with built-in shelving and enough space for even the most elaborate wardrobe.

The bathroom was pure luxury, with a deep soaking tub set beneath a large window that looked out onto the treetops, offering a serene view. The large walk-in shower was framed in glass, with modern tile and a rainfall showerhead.

Two of the additional bedrooms shared a bathroom, each with its own vanity area but connected by a shared shower and tub. The fourth bedroom had its own private bathroom, perfect for guests or a teenager seeking a bit of privacy.

Downstairs, there was another guest bedroom with a private bathroom, ensuring that any visitors would have their own space. The laundry room was large and functional, with plenty of counter space for folding clothes, built-in cabinets for storage, and a deep sink. It was tucked away in a quiet corner of the house, making it both convenient and out of sight.

The house was a perfect blend of modern luxury and comfortable living. It felt like a home designed not just for show but for a life filled with love, family, and friends. The balance of open, inviting spaces and private, cozy areas made it ideal for both intimate moments and large gatherings.

Jensen walked behind you as you wandered through the house, your eyes soaking in every detail. His hand rested gently on the small of your back, a reassuring presence as you moved from one room to the next. You could feel his anticipation, the way he waited for your reaction with every step, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

As you reached the spacious living room, you stopped for a moment, taking in the incredible view of the backyard and the river beyond. It was perfect—almost too perfect, like something out of a dream. The kind of house that felt like it could hold so much life, so much love. You turned back to Jensen, and he was already watching you, his eyes searching yours for some kind of affirmation.

“What do you think?”, he asked quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of nerves and hope.

You blinked, your mind racing as you tried to put your feelings into words. It wasn’t just about the house—it was about the life he was offering you, the future he was imagining for the two of you. And that future was starting to look more real, more tangible, with every step you took through this house.

“It’s…”, you paused, trying to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the gravity of it all. “It’s beautiful, Jensen. I mean, it’s perfect. I don’t even know what to say”.

Jensen’s face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I wanted something that felt right for us”, he said, his hand still resting on your back. “Somewhere we can build a life. And… I wanted you to be part of that decision. I didn’t want to do this without you”.

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you realize just how serious he was about this—about you. You turned to fully face him, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

Jensen's gaze softened even more, the nervousness giving way to something deeper—an earnest vulnerability. He stepped closer, his hand brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as he spoke, his voice quiet but filled with intent.

“Even though I can’t buy it just yet”, he began, his thumb gently tracing your cheek, “if you like it—if you can see us here—I’ll take a hold on it. I want this place to be ours, but only if you can see it too”.

You felt your heart skip a beat. The house was beautiful, but it was more than just a place—it was a symbol of everything he wanted to build with you. The life you both dreamed of but hadn’t quite dared to fully imagine until now. His words hung in the air between you, charged with the weight of what this meant for your future.

You looked around once more, taking in the expansive living room, the warm sunlight filtering in through the tall windows, the view of the Colorado River in the distance. It was everything you could have imagined, and more. But what made it truly perfect wasn’t just the house itself, but the idea of sharing it with him—building a life here, together.

“I can see us here”, you whispered, turning back to him, your voice thick with emotion.

Jensen’s face lit up, his relief and happiness so palpable that it made your heart swell even more. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and you could feel the tension he had been holding onto melt away.

“Then I’ll make sure it happens”, he murmured against your skin, his arms wrapping around you. “I’ll put a hold on it. This will be our home, I promise”.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his words, your heart racing with excitement and love. The future suddenly felt less scary and more like a promise—one you were both ready to keep.

As the moment between you and Jensen hung in the air, Jared, who had been lingering quietly in the background, finally decided it was time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat dramatically, stepping into the living room with an exaggerated grin plastered on his face.

“Well”, Jared began, clapping his hands together with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Look at you two, playing house already. I knew I was tagging along for something juicy”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jared’s playful tone, while Jensen rolled his eyes, clearly anticipating the teasing that was about to come.

Jared walked around the room, spreading his arms wide as he admired the house. “I mean, this place is ridiculous. I’m talking perfect. You guys will have to fight me to keep me from moving in. I can already see myself in that pool, cocktail in hand. You’ll never get rid of me!”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, well, if you show up uninvited, I’ll be sure to have the pool drained”, he teased, earning a chuckle from you.

Jared put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Oh, come on! That’s no way to treat your future houseguest slash best man slash live-in nanny for the kids”, he joked, winking at you.

Jensen chuckled at Jared’s antics, but the lightness in his laugh was fleeting. You could sense the shift in his mood as the reality of everything else weighing on him began to creep back in. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing between you and Jared before letting out a soft sigh.

“There’s something I haven’t mentioned yet”, Jensen started, his voice a little more serious now. “Danneel’s been talking about moving back to Austin too, once we sell the house in Fairfield”.

You could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, the uncertainty of the situation hanging in the air.

Jensen glanced at you, his hand finding yours as if he needed that grounding connection. “But.. Even if she doesn’t move back here, though… I’ll figure it out. I’ll move here no matter what. I want to be close to the kids, and to you”, he added, his eyes softening as they met yours. “But if the worst-case scenario happens and she decides to move somewhere else entirely, I’ll find a way to make it work. I’m not going to let her or the situation keep me from living where I want to be, and who I want to be with”.

You felt a wave of relief mixed with the weight of the situation. The fact that Jensen was so determined to move forward, to make Austin home, was reassuring, but you could also sense the strain of it all—the endless negotiations with Danneel, the logistics of parenting, and how it all weighed heavily on his shoulders.

You and Jensen took one last slow walk around the house. The house, with its stunning design and the potential it held for a new beginning, suddenly felt even more significant.

Jensen’s hand remained firmly on your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles as the two of you stepped out into the backyard. The sound of the river flowing softly in the distance mixed with the quiet rustling of the trees. The setting sun cast a golden glow across the landscape, making everything feel peaceful for just a moment.

As you reached the edge of the yard, standing by the path that led down to the private pier, Jensen stopped, turning toward you with a contemplative look on his face. He pulled you close to his side, wrapping his arm securely around you as you leaned against him.

“I know it’s a lot to take in”, he murmured, his voice soft. “But I want you to know that no matter what happens, this is where I want to be—with you”.

You looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. There was still so much uncertainty with Danneel, the kids, and the logistics of everything, but in this moment, all that mattered was the decision you were making together.

Jensen pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he needed the closeness. “We’ll make this work”, he whispered against your hair. “Whatever it takes”.

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. “I believe you”, you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

Jared, who had been quietly watching from the patio, finally broke the silence with a lighthearted chuckle. “Alright, are we done with the heartfelt stuff? Because I’m getting emotional over here”.

As the three of you walked back toward the car, Jensen kept his arm around you, his presence steady and reassuring. Jared kept a light atmosphere as he teased you both, but there was an unspoken understanding between all of you.

Once you all settled back into the car, Jensen started driving, the familiar sound of the engine humming as you headed back to Jared’s place. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows on the road, but inside the car, the mood was light.

Jensen glanced at Jared through the rearview mirror as they drove, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So, you told Gen about me and her?”, he asked, keeping his voice casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind it. He wanted to know how much Jared’s wife knew.

Jared grinned in the mirror, clearly enjoying the shift in conversation. “Oh, you mean have I told Gen that you’ve finally got your head out of your ass and found someone who’s way too good for you?”, Jared teased, his tone light but affectionate.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that”.

Jared leaned back in his seat. “Of course I’ve told her”, he said, more seriously now. “She’s happy for you, man. She’s always rooting for you. But you know she’ll want to meet her again”. He nodded toward you with a grin. “Sooner rather than later”. His grin widening as he continued, "Gen knew something was up from the beginning. Right at my birthday party". He gave a knowing glance to Jensen through the rearview mirror, clearly amused by the memory.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, but he already seemed to know where Jared was going with this. "Oh yeah?", he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Dude, Gen figured it out that night. I mean, come on—since when do either of us invite a random person we met while buying alcohol for a party?". He shot you a wink, his grin widening. "You weren’t just some random guest. Gen clocked it right away, knew there was something going on".

You chuckled softly at Jared’s playful tone, feeling both flattered and slightly embarrassed at the revelation. You hadn’t realized that it was so obvious from the start, but Jared clearly had a knack for reading people, and it seemed like his wife was just as perceptive.

Jensen laughed, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the road. “I thought I was being subtle”.

Jared let out a scoff. “Subtle? Please. You guys had the whole ‘secret glances across the room’ thing going on. Gen saw right through it”. He paused for a moment before adding, more seriously, “And honestly? She wasn’t surprised. She knew for years that things with you and Danneel weren’t working. It was only a matter of time”.

There was a quiet shift in the car after that. Jensen’s expression softened, and you could feel the weight of those words settle in. Jared wasn’t wrong. Jensen’s marriage with Danneel had been rocky for a long time, and now, as everything was coming to a head, it felt like a natural, if difficult, progression.

Jared leaned forward again, his tone more thoughtful now. “Gen’s always said that you deserve to be happy, man. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve worked to make things right with Danneel, but sometimes… it just doesn’t work out. And that’s okay. The important thing is that you’re doing what’s best for you, and now… well, you’ve found someone who makes you happy”.

Jensen glanced over at you for a brief moment, his hand squeezing yours gently before returning to the wheel. "Yeah", he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. "I have".

Jared’s grin returned, and he leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with how the conversation had gone. “Just don’t screw it up, man”, he teased lightly.

As December rolled into town, the colder morning outside was forgotten in the warmth of your shared bed. You lay on your stomach, feeling the soft sheets beneath you, tangled around your legs, while Jensen hovered above you, his body radiating heat. He was slightly between your legs, his hands gripping the mattress tightly on either side of your head as his lips moved lazily down your bare lower back. His touch was soft but firm, sending tingles up your spine as he explored every inch of your skin.

His hips brushed against your buttcheek, and just as his teeth gently bit down, causing you to giggle softly, the sound of his phone rang, shattering the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen groaned against your skin, his forehead coming to rest against the small of your back as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course", he mumbled, the frustration clear in his voice.

You couldn't help but smile, turning your head slightly to glance at him. "You going to get that?", you teased, your voice still breathy from the closeness of the moment.

He huffed, his lips brushing against your back one last time before he lifted himself off you, reaching toward the bedside table where his phone buzzed insistently. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly.

"It's probably something that can wait", Jensen said, sounding more annoyed than concerned, his thumb hovering over the decline button. He looked at you, his lips curling into a small, mischievous grin as he leaned down again, his lips ghosting over your shoulder.

You turned your head back into the pillow, chuckling. "Are you sure?", you asked, knowing how quickly things could shift, especially with all that had been going on in his life lately.

Jensen hesitated for a moment longer before finally pulling back again, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. "Yeah, it's nothing that can't wait", he murmured.

His hands slid back down to your hips, his body resuming its position above yours, the closeness and warmth between you quickly reigniting the spark of intimacy. "Now, where were we?", he asked, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzled the back of your neck, his hips pressing closer to yours.

You giggled softly, your body relaxing back into the moment, the world outside once again fading away.

As the quiet moment stretched on, Jensen's closeness grew more intense. You felt the firm pressure of his arousal against you. His breath was warm against your ear, his groans soft but laden with need as he kissed along your neck, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jensen's hands gripped your hips gently, his movements deliberate as he pressed closer. His lips traced a path from your neck down to your shoulder, each kiss deepening the connection that the morning laziness had already fostered.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, seeing in his eyes a mix of affection and desire that mirrored your own feelings.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of heat as you pressed yourself back against Jensen, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt natural and intoxicating. His soft groans in response made your heart race, the tension between you building with every touch, every movement.

But then, his phone rang again, the sound breaking through the intimacy of the moment like an unwelcome intruder. Jensen groaned in frustration this time, burying his face in the curve of your neck as the phone continued to buzz insistently.

“Seriously?”, he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. He kissed your shoulder before sighing deeply, clearly reluctant to let go of the moment.

You giggled softly, feeling his irritation, but part of you was just as frustrated. “You should probably get that”, you whispered, your voice a mix of amusement and disappointment.

Jensen sighed again, reluctantly lifting himself off you, his hand brushing your back one last time before he reached for his phone on the nightstand. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted from annoyance to something more serious.

He hesitated for a second, his fingers hovering over the screen before he finally answered. "Yeah?", he said, his tone immediately changing, more alert now.

As much as you wanted to stay lost in the moment with him, you could sense the shift. Something was happening.

While Jensen continued talking with his manager, you tried to quietly slip out of bed, swinging one leg over his hips, intending to get up and make some much-needed coffee. You’d spent way too long in bed, lost in each other, kissing, teasing, and now the morning sun was filtering in through the curtains.

But just as you started to move, Jensen’s hand shot out, gripping your thigh firmly. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and you froze in place, one leg still draped over him, the other half out of bed. His hand brushed up to your hipbone, fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. He pulled you gently closer to him, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as your body followed his lead, your most intimate part mere inches from his face.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with amusement, a slow grin spreading across his lips as he watched you, fully aware of how flustered you had become. His phone was still pressed to his ear, his voice steady and composed as he continued the conversation with his manager. But his free hand was anything but composed. It moved deliberately, fingers brushing over your hip, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin.

Your heart raced as his thumb began to trace slow circles near your clit, the touch almost too light to be real, yet sending waves of electricity through you. You blushed furiously, your breath catching in your throat. The contrast between the casual way he spoke on the phone and the intimate attention he was giving you sent your mind into a whirlwind of sensation and anticipation.

Jensen's grin widened as he noticed your reaction, his thumb pressing just a little harder, brushing directly over your clit. He kept his eyes on you, his gaze dark with desire, even as he continued speaking in that smooth, calm tone, completely in control of the situation while you were quickly losing yours. The combination of his teasing touch and his playful, confident grin made it impossible for you to think clearly.

Every nerve in your body was attuned to his touch, and as his thumb continued to move in slow, deliberate circles, you could feel your body responding despite the presence of his phone conversation. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was a losing battle.

As you hovered over Jensen’s chest, your breath shallow, you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. He licked his lips, his gaze flickering between your flushed face and the intimate space between your legs.

Without breaking eye contact, Jensen dipped his thumb inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes darkening with desire. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, your body reacting instantly to his teasing.

Jensen’s lips curled into a grin as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

His thumb moved with a purpose, circling and retreating in a way that was maddeningly perfect. Each motion was calculated to draw out the moment, to intensify your desire without granting the final release.

As you struggled to maintain composure, the sound of Jensen's voice mingled with the sensations he was eliciting. He continued his conversation with his manager, his tone professional despite the intimate situation. "Yes, I've reviewed the schedule for January", he said, his voice steady. "We need to ensure that the production aligns with my current…. commitments. Can we possibly push the filming start by a week?".

His manager’s response was inaudible, but Jensen's slight nod indicated he was listening intently. "Understood", Jensen replied after a moment. "But let's try to negotiate for a bit more flexibility. It's crucial that the dates don't clash".

Throughout the call, Jensen’s thumb paused occasionally, his attention momentarily splitting between you and his professional obligations. Each pause left you anticipating more, the slow burn of need growing with each second of delay.

"Alright, send me the revised schedule once you've had that conversation", Jensen finally said, concluding the call. As he set his phone aside, his full attention returned to you. His grin broadened, aware of the intense state he'd left you in.

"Sorry about that", he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "Let´s get to the important thing". His thumb resumed its slow, deliberate dance, pushing you closer to the brink this time, his gaze locked on yours, reading every reaction, every tremor that coursed through you.

"Focus can be a tricky thing, can't it?", Jensen teased, his words a velvet caress that matched the physical ones. His touch became slightly more insistent, promising that he was now fully present, committed to taking you all the way.

An hour later, the morning had settled into a comfortable rhythm. You sat at your small kitchen island, eating your bowl of cereal, the soft clinking of your spoon against the bowl the only sound in the quiet space. Jensen stood nearby, leaning casually against the counter, a mug of coffee in one hand while his other scrolled through emails on his phone. Every now and then, he'd glance at something on the screen, his brow furrowing slightly as he responded to work-related messages.

Despite the quiet, there was an easy, intimate vibe between the two of you. Occasionally, Jensen would lean over toward you, wordlessly opening his mouth as if expecting you to offer him a spoonful of your cereal. You chuckled at his unspoken request, shaking your head but obliging him nonetheless. You scooped up a bit of cereal and brought the spoon to his mouth, which he took with a playful grin.

"You're like a child sometimes", you teased, rolling your eyes as he chewed thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the bite.

"Well, you picked a good cereal", Jensen quipped, his voice casual, though there was a soft affection in his tone. He took another sip of his coffee, his eyes returning to his phone, though you could tell he wasn’t completely absorbed in work—there was still a lightness about him that hinted he was still mentally with you.

"So, anything exciting in your emails?", you asked, resting your chin in your hand, watching him as he scrolled through his inbox.

"Just more scheduling", Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Trying to make sure everything’s set for January when filming starts again. There’s always something". He put his phone down for a moment and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "But I’d rather be here with you than thinking about work".

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It was these little moments that made everything feel so easy and real between the two of you—simple mornings like this, where the world outside the kitchen didn't matter much.

"Well, if you keep stealing my cereal, you’ll definitely be here a while", you joked, pushing the bowl slightly toward him.

Jensen chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, then". He took another sip of coffee, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer, the weight of his words settling between you both in a way that was both reassuring and meaningful.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[horseshoegirl]

Dragon Age: AntivanCrow!MickeyGarcia

When I tell you I have a soft spot for the Crows .... 👀 Mickey just fits into their world... 🖤

The rooftop smelled of wet stone and stale chimney smoke, a stench Mikhael, or Mickey as his cousin liked to tease him with, had long since stopped noticing. The city of Kirkwall sprawled below him in jagged shadows, the faint hum of voices and clatter of wagons never truly ceasing. He crouched low, his silhouette blending with the crumbling stone parapet, his eyes fixed on his mark.

You. A forgotten Trevelyan. And a mage, no less.

You were nothing like he’d imagined when he’d taken the contract. The dossier had painted you as dangerous, a rogue apostate with ties to blood magic, someone who could snap their fingers and turn him into ash. Instead, you stood in a patch of weak moonlight outside your tiny cottage, a shawl draped over your shoulders, humming softly as you fed scraps to a mangy dog.

Not exactly the harbinger of chaos he’d been promised.

Mikhael adjusted his position, feeling the familiar weight of his twin daggers at his hips. Weeks of observation had told him one thing: you were no threat. No shady deals in dark alleys, no suspicious visitors slipping in and out of your home. Just endless days of mending clothes, tending to sick children, and healing wounds with gentle spells and elfroot that barely flickered with power.

It didn’t make sense.

The Crows didn’t take just any job. Whoever had paid the exorbitant sum for this contract clearly wanted you gone for reasons beyond what they’d told him. And yet… it wasn’t his job to ask questions. It was his job to kill.

So why had he spent three weeks not doing that?

“Don’t get soft,” he muttered under his breath.

The dog barked once, startling him out of his thoughts. You turned your head slightly, scanning the shadows. Mikhael stilled, every muscle going taut as you stared in his direction.

“I know you’re there,” you called out, voice steady but laced with uncertainty. The dog let out another growl, baring its teeth.

Mikhael debated melting into the shadows and slipping away for a split second, as he’d done so many times before. But something about how you stood there, with your chin held high despite the fear in your eyes, made him hesitate.

“Are you going to come out, or should I just start throwing fireballs?” you added, a teasing lilt to your words.

Mikhael smirked despite himself. Bold. He liked that.

Slowly, he stood, stepping into the pale moonlight. The dog growled louder but didn’t move, clearly more bark than bite. Your eyes widened, and he saw fear flicker for a moment. Then you straightened, your expression hardening.

“Well?” you demanded. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

He could have killed you then. Should have. A quick throw of his dagger would end it all, and the Crows would never know how long he’d hesitated. But instead, he found himself saying, “Just passing through.”

Your brow arched. “On my roof?”

Mikhael shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Best view in the city.”

Something told him that, for better or worse, this job was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

[captain039]

Heal your hurt

Viktor x reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, mental health issues, light swearing, chubby reader, intimacy, smut, friends to lovers, reader has chronic pain

I just need to take care of Viktor and for him to take care of me xD

It’s a quiet day, rain gently pattering on the window of your shared apartment. Viktor’s been your roommate for three years now, but you’ve known him since you were little. You’ve always loved Viktor, lately though it just seems different, you catch yourself staring at him, watching the way his eyes scan over journals, notes and blueprints, watch the way his jaw sometimes clench’s a little to harshly, or his high cheek bones. Watching him slowly grow tired while you read on the bed making sure he doesn’t fall asleep at the desk, or how he makes his tea in the morning, his hair a mess his eyes barely open. It makes your cheek heat and your thighs clench. You want to throw yourself out the window some days at how bad it gets, you can’t help but wonder, let your mind wander to thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking about him, you imagine straddling him, making sure he’s comfortable before slowing sinking-

The door opening makes you startle, your book falls to the floor and you stare blankly before you register.

“Welcome home” you call to Viktor who just hums and heads to his desk lying his things down. He looks tired today more so than usual, his limp is worse than normal and you can see the tense lines in his jaw and brow.

“How was your day?” You ask. You know better than to ask if he’s ok, always being brushed off.

“Good” he answers simply sitting down resting his cane against the table, it wouldn’t be a talking day then. You sigh softly picking up your book and lying it on the table head in hand, elbow resting on the table as you look out the window, watching the rain fall.

“Did you have a good day?” Viktor’s voice comes and you look to him, he’s looking to you to which surprised you.

“It was boring” you shrug and he nods.

“Jayce says hello” he says and turns back to his desk.

“Tell him I say hi back” you say and he nods. You stand up deciding to take a shower instead of sitting, your hips protest and you swear you feel like someone just stabbed you in the tail bone. You want to curse but keep it in and awkwardly go to the bathroom. You run a bath, put in a few drops of oil and a scoop of bath salts, it’s your own damn fault for sitting in that chair too long. You want to slap yourself but don’t as you strip and struggle with your pants and socks. You sit on the toilet seat jaw clenching. Times like these you missed your mother, her helpful hand her warm words and caring touch, she made you feel less useless. You force your legs up and take off your socks one by one it takes you too long and you’re rushing to turn the taps off before you even get your pants off. You sigh shimmying your pants off before you settle in the bath with a small sigh of satisfaction. A temporary subdue of pain, you figured by now they’d invent something to stop this kind of thing, but no, we’re just inventing blimps and hextech. You sit in the bath eyes closed head resting on the small bath pillow that Viktor bought you. It’s… nice the small things he does, he’ll buy you a small gift you use every day like a new bookmark, a blanket or something you need, he’ll leave one of your jackets hanging by the door if it’s cold, he always knows how to make the best tea.

“Are you alive in there?” A gentle knock echos from the door and you open your eyes realising you were lost in thought.

“Yeah I’m alive” you call out hearing a soft rare chuckle from Viktor.

“Would you like a tea?” He asks and the thought of hot tea makes you smile.

“Yes please” you answer. Getting out the bath seems to harder than getting in, you feel ten times more heavy and drying your body feels like running a marathon. You struggle to your room, listen to the kettle boil as you take some pain meds and get dressed carefully. You leave your room and collapse on the couch ungracefully and sigh. You’ve never outright told Viktor of your problems, you figure he can see them even though you try to hide, sometimes it’s too much to hide, but you don’t want your burdens on him when he already has his own.

“Tea” Viktor says and hands you the cup. You thank him and sit up properly sipping the herbal drink with a small sigh.

“Viktor?” You ask as he sits at his desk and he hums back. You pause for a moment sighing and shaking your head.

“Sorry, don’t worry” you brush off picking up a book instead. You don’t see him falter and stop what he’s doing till you hear his voice.

“How is your book?” He asks.

“S, good” you hum.

“What’s it about?” He adds and you flick your eyes up seeing him writing something down.

“You don’t like my silly romance novels” you snort softly.

“Indulge me” he answers and something in your stomach flutters.

“I- ok. It’s about opposing kingdoms the Prince and the Princess must marry to form an alliance between each kingdom, they hate each other though and she’s been planning to murder him to get revenge for mother’s death. They’re forced to be together for appearance and she slowly finds out that it wasn’t in fact the prince that killed her mother but someone else, I think it was one of the kings assassins and the prince had no idea about it, anyway, she realised that the prince is not the evil master mind he appears to be, he’s a soft hearted gentlemen who cares for the people in secret and tries to save the kingdom from collapsing” you explain only half way through the book.

“Has either one confessed?” He asks.

“No, she’s still learning about her feelings but he’s head over heels just doesn’t want to push her” you shrug sipping your tea again and reading the page you were on.

“An enemies to lovers? Is that what you called it?” He comments and you smile to yourself.

“Yeah that’s what it’s called” you answer.

“With a slow…burn?” He tilts his head and your smile widens even if he can’t see it.

“Also correct” you let out a small giggle.

“I am slowly learning your… book language” you feel your stomach do a flip with butterflies at his words and you force yourself to stop smiling. You clear your throat and nod.

“Yeah, you’re doing good” you mumble focusing on finishing your tea and page.

[magiclwritings]

Cesare felt the air around him still and chill in the same stroke. His eyes narrowed on Quin and all the alcohol he'd drank felt as though it evaporated through every pore on his body. In that moment he couldn't understand the man's tone but he felt the rigidiness just the same. He hadn't done anything wrong. Not really. Had Beau confused him for a few moments? Yes. But nothing more had come of that. And once the prince found out who he was and what he was doing, it wasn't difficult to deduce the rest. But clearly Quintus wasn't ready or willing to do that yet and he'd have to explain in a way that didn't seem as though he were trying to defend the other to him. Wasn't he just the one being made to be made?

"I don't think it's difficult to understand that someone in his line of work." He paused, staring pointedly at the other for a moment before he continued. "Don't always receive the best treatment. And knowing the man that was pulling his strings." Which was partly a lie. Cesare didn't know their uncle well. Or, as well as he'd thought he had. In all the years he'd ventured to the castle in Vivec alone and in his father's tow, he'd never had Richard treat him poorly. The odd comment here and there, with more frequency as he'd grown closer to Quin, but never would he have guessed he was a power hungry man, hell bent on dethroning his own nephews at any cost. "I didn't think it was such a jump to assume that some of what has happened with you may also have happened with him." His brow raised and he sighed out, not ready to admit the next part. "Because you do look similiar enough that I imagine whatever he he wanted to say or do to you he often took out on Beau instead when the opportunity didn't present itself with you."

The prince stretched himself out on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. There it is. The soft, fuzzy feeling of the meade found him again and he breathed out slowly. "You've never told me the extent of what happened with ... Richard." He started, crossing his ankles over each other and his hands folded over and laid against his lap. It was hard to hear that name in his own voice. Until that moment he was fairly certain they'd never uttered his name between themselves. But the threat was very real and not using his name made it feel like he was bigger than they, and that simply could never be in Cesare's opinion. "Beau wasn't kind when he said it." He started, his fingers itching to dig into anything to make this less painful to speak about, less painful to watch Quintus' face when he'd finally gotten it out. "But I started putting it together. The way you don't like to be touched and how you're constantly on top of everything and everyone." He gave a slight shake of his head because honestly this did nothing but show just how strong this man on the bed was to him. And should be to everyone. "He only confirmed the missing piece that I'd been guessing at."

Cesare's tongue swiped along his lips to keep them from drying out completely. "Please don't take my kindness towards him as anything but that." He swallowed hard and fought himself on what he was about to say next but he thought better than to hide it. "When I first came upon Beau in what were suppose to be your quarters I couldn't be sure it was you. The room was too dark." The contents of his stomach churned and he felt odd enough to shift his weight. "He shared a kiss or two but nothing more than that." His cheeks instantly flared to the bright redness of coals and he found himself wanting to sink completely into the mattress. "I realized he wasn't you and threatened him within an inch of his life to get me to you and when that didn't work." He sighed and shrugged again. "I just tried to treat him like a person." He paused, seeing the snide comment coming quick but he cut Quin off before it could be made. "He wants to live. Free. Just like you and I. Just like everyone else. I couldn't imagine the sort of life one leads pretending to be someone else. Never having anything that is truly your own." Cesare gave a slight shake of his head and breathed out through his nose. "I just didn't want to be the sort of person that sees someone in a bad position regardless of their own involvement and not do anything to help. I've never been that way and I won't start now." He was firm on that whether Quin liked it or not. He could only hope his honesty didn't cost him everything else in the process.

Beau didn’t deserve anything, especially from Quintus, and as he rolled over to tell Cesare just that, he stopped being cold in his movements. 

He survived not great things too. 

Quin’s body went cold at the words, eyes narrowing as he read them for what they were. It could mean that Cesare knew, but he was many things, and a great actor was not one of them. He believed if Cesare knew about his past with his uncle, he would not be able to contain himself. His future husband would go through all of the stages of grief knowing that any kind of physical harm had come to Quintus, especially at such a young age. He could have simply meant all of the other horrors his uncle had committed, but that was banking on the idea that Cesare hadn’t made the connection regarding what Beau was to Quin’s uncle. 

It was challenging to decide if he wanted to press it when he couldn’t determine precisely what Cesare knew. If he did know, Quin would have to live with the stain of his uncle tainting their relationship, potentially ruining their future wedding plans. If he didn’t realize, Quin would be serving the truth to him on a silver platter. 

He sat up as Cesare came over with the tray. He only ate what was handed to him because he didn’t want Cesare to comment on his lack of appetite. Quin ate slowly, chewing meticulously, but everything tasted like ash, and with every bite, he had to force himself to swallow. It was like chewing nails. He listened to Cesare’s words, looking up from the dried fruit in his hands to study his expression. If there was ever a time Quintus wished he could read minds, it was this moment. 

He wanted to share Cesare’s excitement about having both Avenicci brothers under the same roof and look forward to experiencing Adros with Cesare, but Quin was that kind of man. He couldn’t let things go; he couldn’t ignore the possibility that Cesare may know and wasn’t admitting it. 

“What did you mean,” He said slowly, carefully. He ripped the piece of fruit in his hand to shreds, flicking the bits of skin off on the tray. “Earlier.’ Quintus glanced up at Cesare, gaze scanning over his face. “When you said ‘He survived not great things too’?” Quin raised a brow, waving his hand flippantly. “He was playing a role for my uncle. Pretending to be me, he agreed to go to trial disguised as me to plead guilty. While I was locked in my room and drugged constantly,  he had the run of the castle and could come and go as he pleased.  Anything he wanted was given to him as long as he played by my uncle’s rules, which he did so eagerly. So I suppose I’m just confused about what horrors he faced that you have been made aware of. He’s faced enough to warrant you saving and smuggling him out of the country. So please, do share."

[forgetful-nerd]

You know what would be such good angst material?

These two meeting.

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.