#my fucking suitcase got stolen

[despite-everything]

i love wearing robes and im so sad i cant take the one i want to my sisters wedding...

[jaysgirlx]

Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

[apollosdaydreams]

Hello, can I request some smut of Lando Norris with rally driver reader??

Like something in the Monte Carlo rally after party or whatever you like 🤓

Lando Norris x driver!reader 

Warning: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ only, Unprotected sex- wrap it before you tap it.

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it’s not good. I will try my best though!! And sorry I don't know much about Rally racing, so the rally part (and the drivers) will all be made up. I'm so sorry, so this will mainly focus on the after party!! Sorry for taking so long to get this uploaded, I was busy with the last two weeks in college and then finals and I finally had time to sit down and write. :) (Also in the mood board let's pretend she's not making lemonade.) 

The After, After, Party

The race went amazing, you were feeling like you were on top of the world. You are making history, as you are a female rally driver, making your childhood dreams come true and you have the most amazing, loving boyfriend ever. Lando Norris, a Formula 1 driver. Lando was able to come support you as he didn't have anything Formula 1 related. So here you both were in your hotel in Greece. Lando was standing in front of the mirror with just black boxers on, putting some hair product in. You were sitting criss-crossed on the counter in just a black lace thong and a matching black lace bra. You were also putting product in your hair. You weren't paying attention to Lando, as you were so focused on your hair that you didn't realize he was moving behind you until you felt his hands wrap around your waist. 

“You are so beautiful y/n.” He whispered into your ear while putting his chin on your shoulder. 

You turned a deep shade of red, “Shut up.”  You softly said while softly putting your hand on his face and pushing him away. You then grabbed for your small makeup bag, deciding you didn’t want to do much makeup. You just put on some mascara and highlighter. Once you got done doing your hair and makeup you walked over to your suitcase, as you were too lazy to unpack all of your stuff, and grabbed out some lighter wash jean shorts, a white tank top with one of Lando’s button up shirts that you had stolen from him, with your white converse. Tonight's party wasn't something you had to dress fancy for, but you also didn't want to show up looking like you had just rolled out of bed. 

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You have been at the party for a while now, Lando staying sober and having nothing to drink so he could drive you both back to the hotel. While you decided to have a couple drinks, just enough to get you tipsy. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, usually you were shy and you didn't show much PDA, but with some liquid courage you were dancing with Lando to the music. You were leaning back into Lando, grinding your hips back into his hands on your hips guiding your body to rock with the music. You leaned back your mouth now under his ear.

“Lando.” You breathed out.

“Yes love?” He asked while moving his hands up to your waist. 

“I need you.” You said, then moving your mouth to kiss under his jaw. You felt his hands move back to your hips and grip them harder. “Please.” You added.

He didn't say anything but took your hand and led you out the door, you saw your teammate, Filip and his best friend Patrick. You waved shyly at them as Lando led you out. 

“They are definitely going to fuck.” Filip turned to Patrick. 

“Oh for sure.” Patrick said while laughing. 

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Lando used your body to close the hotel door, his hands couldn't get off of you, one on your waist and one on your jaw. One of your hands was on his chest while the other was playing with his belt. 

“Jump.” He whispered out. You slightly jumped and he grabbed the bottom of your thighs, before he left the door he made sure it was locked and that the "Do not disturb” sign was still out, once he did that he brought you over to the bed and softly threw you on the bed. 

You laid on your back, breathing heavily, your heart rate was rapid. Lando then climbed on top of you, smiling slightly. 

“God.” He breathed out. “You are so beautiful y/n.” He said.

You blushed, and slightly hid your face in embarrassment. 

He grabbed your hands and put them above your head, “Don’t hide from me, love.” He whispered in your ear with a smirk. 

You blushed even harder, and Lando chuckled at that. You then wrapped your legs around his torso to bring him in closer to you. He then used one of his hands to grab your face, slowly making out with you. Moving his hips against yours. You moaned at the friction, wanting more you started to move your own hips. You then both quickly started to take off your clothes, wanting to be close to each other. After a few minutes of some slow kissing, and touching each other he had reached for your thong. He then quickly pulled your thong off, you have moved your hips up to get them off faster. He then went for your bra clasp quickly removing it and throwing it to where the rest of the clothes were. He was still left in his boxers. You didn't think that was fair though so you decided to speak up about it. 

“It's not fair.” You pouted. “I'm all naked and you still have your boxers on.” You said while playing with the band of boxers. He smiled at you and quickly threw his boxers off. His cock hitting his lower stomach, he then grabbed it and lined it up to your pussy. Moving it up and down to tease you before he finally pushed himself fully inside. You then gripped his back, making small crescent-like shapes on his muscular back. He then began moving at a slow pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Faster.” You breathed out.

He smiled, but followed your wishes, as he began to speed up the pace. He could feel you tighten around him making him groan, which made you clench him tighter and let out a moan. Your walls clenched against him, your breath hitching with his every thrust. He was pinning your squirming body down. When his breath hitched, his head slowly fell back in pleasure. 

“I'm going to cum-” He managed to get out. Your breath hitched, clenching his harder, your soft hands trailing up and down his back. When you felt him release in you, he gasped out. Moving his hand to your clit, to help you finish. 

Your body began to tremble in pleasure when you finally felt release. You gasped out, Lando still pumping in and out of you. When you softly hit his V-line, telling him that it was getting to much, so he softly pulled out, Both of you gasping at the lost of being so close to each other, Lando had a smug look on his face, looking down at your pussy, your cummed filled pussy. 

He then quickly left to run to the bathroom, he came back with a warm rag to start cleaning you. You gasped at the feeling on the rag on your sensitive pussy. 

“I'm sorry baby.” He said. “I’ll try to be fast.” He quickly responded. He slowly went faster, still wanting to be soft with you. “Its ok baby.” you whispered. He smiled down at you, he had left to put the soiled rag in the bathroom. He lightly hit your thigh. “Come on baby, you need to use the bathroom.” He told you. You sat up and got out of bed, holding on to Lando for support, once you got done in the bathroom you headed back to bed and layed down. Lando quickly followed, pulling your body close to his. It didn't take you long to fall asleep. Lando then looked down at your sleeping face and smiled. 

“I'm the luckiest guy on the planet.” He said while closing his eyes. 

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It would be greatly appreciated if you could like, comment and reblog!!

© 2023 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works on any platform without authorized permission.

[harlowtales]

Jack needs Y/N more than he realizes when jealousy gets the best of him

18+ ONLY - Adult Themes

***Use of all names is purely fictional

“Where the fuck are you going Y/N?” Jack said surprised to see you packing. He just got back from recording in LA and was going to take a few weeks off.

“I actually made some friends and I’m heading off for a weekend in the country!” You squealed with glee, but Jack did not have a smile on his face. “…and nice to see you too sheesh.” You said rolling your eyes and pushing past him to get to your closet. You were forgetting your crocks and hoping to find a spot for them in your open and overflowing suitcase on the bed.

“No the fuck you aint.” He said like a domineering father.

“Awwww Jackman you’ll be fine without me for 72hours.” You said cheerily finally getting your suitcase closed by sitting on it.

“72 fucking hours ain’t a weekend last I checked.” He said grumpily

“You’ll be fine.” You said ignoring his exasperation and checking the group chat for any updates on who was picking you up when. Jack was a tad dramatic anyway so you didn’t really take him seriously at the moment.

“Not very professional coming from my assistant” he mumbled now distinctly in a bad mood.

“I’m not your assistant. I’m a house guest remember?” You responded now getting irritated that Jack refused to give you any titles in his life whatsoever. Long story short, something happened one night that you both agreed should not have, and had not happened since.

You were renovicted from your apartment as the building was being turned into fancy condos so Jack offered you a place to stay until you found another place. While staying with him you started helping Kat with some work and his team realized how good you were at helping him stay organized. They offered you a job and Jack said no. He was developing feelings for you and didn’t want to mix business with anything more complicated personally. This caused major tension as you felt he was unfairly blocking you from an opportunity and you had a huge fight. He wound up confessing his feelings and makeup sex didn’t make up for anything as he still would not define your relationship.

You were still helping Kat as now an unpaid intern and Jack felt that one night was a mistake and he needed to focus on his career so nothing happened again. He would lay in his bed alone trying to shake the memory. So many nights he texted you to come to his room but deleted it. You both talked about when you would leave and you told Jack about your other plans but he put a stop to that and said he could find you other opportunities and for you to stay in Louisville.

To say you fell hard for him was an understatement. The whole situation was confusing and you didn’t realize how much it was draining you. You started writing a book but having to move short notice derailed the whole thing. You had a publisher waiting and were panicking. Jack suggested you stay until you finished it. He believed in you and didn’t want to be the cause of you loosing your focus either.

This limbo with him had become your new normal. Stolen glances across the breakfast table, incidental brushes passed in the hallway never amounting to little more than frustration but both of you were dedicated to your dreams so didn’t cross the line again. You had to avert your eyes when he would be rushing to get ready drinking tea and checking his phone while fresh out of the shower in a towel around his waist and wet curls.

He had to do the same seeing you prance around in a tank top and sleep shorts with a bonnet on and fuzzy slippers. The way he wanted to bend you over sometimes was too much. In a weird way though you two became happy roommates. There was only one thing Jack wanted and that was for you to be around when he was in town. He said this was for work purposes but it was because he missed you so much when he was away. To see you packing now when you knew he was back made him downright angry.

You hadn’t done it purposely but you had made a new group of friends in the writing community in Louisville and everyone was going on this retreat to work on projects in an idyllic Kentucky country setting. Jack didn’t like there were guys in this group. Sensitive types that were accomplished authors. Just the type that you could bond with intellectually and leave him forever. He knew conversation was your love language so even while he was away he called often but felt like he didn’t have what it took to really stimulate you mentally like those guys.

You felt like you were starting to slip away and maybe it was for the best because nothing was possible with Jack anyway. This one guy in the group Jason was so engaging and you were looking forward to his reading circles and getting to know him this weekend. Jack knew how much you liked Jason’s new novel. He felt so jealous every time he caught you curled up with pups reading it.

“You really like this Jason character huh?” Jack said one night as he had his feet up watching soccer and you were deeply immersed in Jason’s book. He felt like swatting it out of your hands.

“It’s such a moving story. I hope to be half as good as this” You said wistfully smiling showing your one dimple and pushing up your glasses which drove Jack crazy.

“I have no doubt you’re way better than that.” Jack said disdainfully of Jason.

“I’m honoured to even know him. Want some popcorn?” You said cheerily getting pups off you and heading to the kitchen. It was one of your more lazy days at home and you had no idea that Jack was in heaven there with you. He would occasionally glance at you and smile while you were reading wishing you could lay on him and he could hold you giving you kisses on the top of your head as he watched the game. He snapped out of his delusion with the Jason conversation.

“Hey missy did you write at all today?” He would often chide when things he didn’t want to think about crept in or uncomfortable feelings.

“Nope. I’m chilling today.” You said happily taking a huge handful of popcorn. Jack promptly ripped the bowl away from you.

“You want to be as good as some dork Jason? Get off the couch and go to your room and write” he said firmly.

“Fuck you.” You said defiantly grabbing another handful before heading for your room. You knew he was right but didn’t like his bossy tone.

He settled in with pups with a smile on his face knowing he had disrupted your time with Jason’s book and knocked it off the couch for extra enjoyment.

Fast forward back to now. He felt a tightness in his chest with anxiety creeping in. “Does Kat know you’re doing this?” He questioned

“Doing what?” You said distractedly with air quotes as you texted Emily you were almost ready.

“Y/N.” Jack said trying to get your attention “I need details. You live here, and I kinda feel responsible if anything happens to you.” He said concerned

“Jack it’s all good. Emily will be here in like 15mins don’t worry there’s going to be 20 people there. Jason is leading the whole thing for up and comers like me and I’m so excited to learn from him. I really need his advice.”

“You won’t be up and cumming at all at any point on this trip understand?” He said looking down on you every bit asserting his 6 foot 3 frame.

“Relax alpha male” You said touching his chest in a way that made him raise an eyebrow and tingle. Old Jack would have you on your back so fast it would make your head spin, but he had matured and just hoped one day when he had more time for a relationship he hadn’t permanently fucked it up with you.

“I’ll see you in a few days. Only call me in an EMERGENCY. Got it? And look after my puppy.” You said roughing up pup’s curly fur and kissing her while she panted joyfully in Jack’s arms. Emily texted she was downstairs. You gathered your things and stepped into the elevator that opened up directly into Jack’s penthouse.

“You’re upsetting pups but have fun.” Jack said cradling her as if protecting her from your cruelty.

You breathed a deep sigh of relief as the elevator doors closed. Jack was passed clingy now and totally dependent on you. “Well pups it’s just you and me here this weekend. Or does it have to be?” He said picking up his phone and scrolling to see what ex would answer and come over, but that didn’t feel right. He decided to order dinner since you weren’t there to cook a home cooked meal and write some new stuff. A song about a girl he couldn’t be with but couldn’t leave.

PART 2

Jack was miserable the entire 3 days. Nobody could get him out of the house. He sank into a place where he just wrote songs in the dimly lit studio. He rejected offers to play soccer, to go to the Hub and DJ, to hang out with one of his exes who was just “checking in” that he easily could have had swing by and scratch his itch. The problem was he had nothing to scratch. You were on his mind heavy and he couldn’t shake it.

“Hunny Urban called me and said you’re in a funk. Want to talk to your old mom about it?” Jack’s mom said in her loving way when her son was in a low mood.

“Naw I’ll be fine I just…I need to just be more my own man.” He said reflectively

“Who is she this time?” His mom said completely unaware of the whole dynamic but had suspected Jack and you had something happen at some point. She just knew her son too well. You were completely what he was looking for and it bewildered her why you weren’t a couple already. “Did you and Y/N have another argument? Hunny you know she’s headstrong but she’s an intelligent girl. You’re a writer you get it.”

“We didn’t have a fight. She’s a good roommate.” Jack said dismissively

“Ok I’ll pretend that’s the truth.” His mom said

“She just…she doesn’t understand certain things, like it’s not important to her, she just flounces around foot loose and fancy free ya know? Like her book is due and she’s reading another book by some fucktard author she’s crushing on. Makes no sense. She lacks discipline ya know?” Jack said way more than he wanted to.

“Oh I see.” His mom replied pensively. “She’s a fly by the seat of her pants kinda gal but works for you for free tending to your business everyday but she’s not responsible. As I understand she cooks too with her busy schedule that revolves around you and looks after the dog? Is it maybe this little crush on someone else your issue?”

“You know what? I need to focus and she needs to focus. She could never be my girl because I need someone so opposite to her. I mean the other day I walked in on her feeding pups extra treats and singing and dancing with her like what?” Jack said critically but obviously in pain missing your sweet goofiness.

“Wow sounds like a real bad situation.” His mom said rolling her eyes on the other end but Jack could feel it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me mom.” He said defensively. “It doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is. You know what? As soon as she gets back imma tell her she needs to find somewhere else to go because this ain’t working. I can’t even have girls in my crib anymore like a normal man.”

“So she’s away? And where’s all these girls in your crib as you say.” His mom asked. She had a way of talking to Jack that made him come to his own conclusions.

“Mom don’t start.” He said “She’s irresponsible. She knows she’s supposed to be here when I’m here. It’s unprofessional for her to just bounce and be out in god knows where countryside retreat or wherever the fuck she went with his Jason loser. So he’s written a few books. Does he have platinum records? Does anyone know who da fuck this guy is?” Jack fumed his anxiety on full display.

“Wait. Y/N is on a writing retreat with THE Jason Meyers??? Hunny this is great for her! He’s a 4 time New York Times bestselling author! This could be Y/N’s big break!” His mom said excitedly

“You know, why am I even talking to you? I gotta go pups is hungry and needs a walk.” Jack said using his dog as an excuse to get out of a conversation that was bringing up all his insecurities.

“Ok hunny I’m here if you need me I love you!” His mom said cheerfully

Jack was so frustrated nobody understood him. The walk with pups did him good and he went to the gym to work off some steam. He felt much better and was lying on the couch drifting off when he heard the elevator doors open and you rustling around. He jumped up and startled pups who ran to greet you. “Hello pupsy wupsy!” You said so happy to see her.

“Hey.” You said cooly to Jack

“Sup” He said ultra casually, not moving from the couch.

“It’s ok don’t move to help with my suitcase.” You said sarcastically as you struggled with it down the hallway to your room.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He said after you lazily snuggled in a blanket.

You had a great time, but wasn’t going to tell Jack about the offer you had from Jason to read your manuscript and pitch it to his publisher to get you more money and way more exposure. Jack didn’t seem to like Jason and it would only put him in a pissier mood than he already was these days. You decided to stay in your room away from him and got comfortable in bed so tired from the long drive.

You heard a soft knock on your door. “Come in.” You called out as you changed channels on the TV.

“Does my breath stink or something? Why you didn’t come out of your room?” Jack asked sitting on the bed. He was waiting for you to tell him all about it.

“Jack. Leave me be please I’m exhausted, and no time for whatever mood you’ve been in.” You said honestly

“Y/N can we talk?” He asked softly. You immediately knew it was important by the scrunch in his brow.

“Of course are you ok? I’ve been concerned. You’re always so supportive and the minute I have this big opportunity to network you’re so down on me. Did I do something wrong?” You asked looking him directly in his warm blue eyes

“Y/N….this thing we’re doing… or not doing…I can’t do it anymore. While you were away I had a chance to think and talk to my mom and ummm, I hope we can still be friends but…” He hesitated

“Say no more. I’m as good as fucking gone. Lucky I haven’t even unpacked because I won’t. I’m out. If I can just sleep that would be great and then say no more. I’ll leave in the morning.” You said completely done at this point. “Get some other flunkie to watch your dog and make your breakfast, and schedule your life. I have things to do in MY LIFE!!!” You yelled and burst into tears. “…and fuck any deals. Fuck Jason fuck Kentucky!”

“Whoah whoah whoah what? Fuck Jason what happened? Did he…did you guys…”

“No. Jason is engaged to a ballet dancer he is very much spoken for. I just admired him and his work.” You said now a teary mess. “He offered to read my book and pitch to his publisher but fuck all that now. Every time I get something good I have to move again. I hate it here!!!! Kiss my ass bluegrass!!.” You said now full on bawling.

“Y/N that’s fantastic!!” Jack said but realized what he had done and how he had been making you feel for months. “I’m so sorry I’m a complete fool.”

“You’ve always got me on some rollercoaster. I’m the fool!” You said hitting him now in frustration “Get off my bed! Your bed…what the fuck ever! I don’t fucking care anymore!” You yelled but Jack interrupted you with a massive tight hug and you collapsed in his arms so weary from fighting him and this “arrangement”.

“I can do no right with you. You’re sooooo fucking bossy!” You said but it felt so good to be hugged by him, to feel his warmth.

“Y/N please I ain’t that bad, am I?” Jack asked kind of knowing the answer.

“So bossy.” You restated calming down now and blowing your nose.

“Ok damn. I get it I’m bossy.” He said partially offended but knowing he was hard on you because he didn’t want to wind up in bed and in love. You had the potential to hurt him more than he could handle. With both of you distracted with work it was his hope it would prevent anything from happening “Kiss my ass bluegrass is next level though that was too far.” He laughed.

“I was wrong.” He continued “I can learn from you and relax sometimes and I been an asshole pushing you. I thought you were hung up on Jason and I couldn’t take it. I was a shell of myself when you left. I barely left the condo.”

“Are you serious?” You said between sniffles. “I was literally only gone for 3 days. You’re kind of pathetic”

“Thanks.” He said sarcastically “I’m just so dependent on you now and that’s my fault. If you want to leave and find a real relationship I can’t hold you, but if you give me a do over I would really really love that and I would show you I love you because I do. I realized how much the last little while so I amped up being a hard ass to run from my feelings. Matter fact, I got you something months ago and been too scared to give it to you. One sec” He said and disappeared. He returned with a jewelry box and gestured for you to take it.

You froze. Was this happening? “One minute this man was ready to kick me out and now a damn near proposal?” You thought with your head pounding from all the crying and screaming. You waited for him to open the box.

Inside was a blinding diamond fountain pendant and chain. “Welcome to team Private Garden Y/N, my new Senior Assistant. I hope a salary of $150,000 a year is helpful and Kat now reports to you. I hope the title permanent live-in girlfriend suits you as well. No hiding, this our shit now and everyone will know. You cool with that?”

“Well…I don’t know I might be on a book tour but I’ll see if I can pencil your little job offer in.” You said lifting up your hair as Jack placed the stunning piece around your neck. The fans seeing that symbol of being team PG was going to send the internet into a frenzy but for now you were savouring this moment.

“Take it or leave it, but please never leave me and pups again. I had left over pizza all weekend.” Jack said tackling you and planting a deep kiss on your lips with pups barking excitedly.

“Wow. You are so sad.” You said teasing him and kissing him with his full weight on top of you, he started to rise and you knew it was the time you both had wanted for so long. You turned off your bedroom light “Oh Jack” you moaned.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice @ride4harlow

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman (Part 3)

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Reader (Ex-Girlfriend!Reader)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Some Light Angst; References to Sex; Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Descriptions of Reader

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: You struggle with your life back in Texas. Is California calling your name?

A.N. I double-checked and I'm pretty sure that I added everyone to the tag list who requested it and has their age on their blog, so hopefully this works.

Part 1 Part 2 Epilogue

Master List

Sitting on the couch of your childhood home, you held your wine glass close to your chest.

It was officially two days after you were left at the altar and the last forty-eight hours of your life were practically a blur.

After your night with Jake, you were forced to deal with reality. You moved out of the apartment that you shared with your ex and went through the process of literally cutting him out of your life one photo at a time. Literally. Your name wasn’t on the lease since you moved into your ex’s bigger apartment a few months ago, which worked to your advantage.

You dropped off anything to do with your wedding at your ex’s family’s home, including your wedding dress, since they paid for it and told them to do whatever the hell that they wanted with it. Or they could bring it back to you and you’d burn it.

And your last spiteful move against your ex was cancelling your honeymoon reservations and the extra ticket that he bought his mistress the night before they were supposed to fly out. And the best part was that they had already checked in. Your ex tried to angrily text and call you after he got to the airport, but you just blocked him and moved on.

And now here you were: moved into your childhood bedroom, with your life in a suitcase and a bunch of taped up cardboard boxes. Truly living life to the fullest. Well, at least you had some wine that your mom may or may not have stolen from the reception venue.

The night chill seeped through the screens on the windows and the back door and forced you to pull on a sweatshirt. It was one of Jake’s old faded UT ones that he got when you were both sixteen. He quickly grew out of it and you were happy to take it off of his hands. You kept it in the deepest corner of your closet when you were living with your ex-fiancé, but now, you wore it openly.

You thought that it would have been inappropriate to wear an ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt in the apartment that you shared with your fiancé. Of course, you thought that fucking someone else would have qualified as inappropriate, but perhaps you didn’t have your priorities straight. You should have started wearing it months ago.

Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed and leaned back against the couch.

Even in the darkest days of your relationship with Jake, he never once degraded you like your ex-fiancé did. Sure, Jake could be an asshole and you were the first person to tell him that he was being an asshole, but he wasn’t irredeemable. He had his faults but his heart was always in the right place.

Your ex on the other hand; there was absolutely no way to justify his decision to break up with you over text on the morning of your wedding day. You were done with him and with the whole picture. Luckily, you already deleted and cut up all the remaining photos of the two of you together.

The sound of footsteps caused you to open your eyes and turn towards the stairs. Your mom slowly walked downstairs and smiled softly when she saw that you were still awake. Making her way over to you, she sat down beside you on the couch and squeezed your shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.

“Something like that,” you replied, just as quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you answered honestly, trying to force a small smile.

“Did you hear from Jake?”

“Yeah, we’ve been texting a lot. He apologized for fact that he had to run out.” You nodded slowly, pursing your lips together as you let a breath out of your nose. “But it’s not his fault. That’s just how it always goes with the two of us.”

“Why does it have to work out like that?” your mom asked softly.

“That’s just how it’s always been, Mom. You know that,” you replied, turning to stare down at your wine glass. “When we’re together and alone, everything is perfect. Everything feels right and I never ever felt like that with someone else. But then reality hits and we have to go back to the paths that we picked and . . . we’re separated in the end again.”  

Your mom nodded solemnly, though her expression gave away her opinion on the subject. Straightening up, she glanced out the window at the rose bushes that sat right below your childhood bedroom window. The ones that were planted there for a very specific reason.

“I remember when your father bought those bushes,” your mom stated wistfully, causing you to pick your head up and turn around.

“You mean when he tried and break me and Jake up?” you mused, shaking your head.

“He was trying to prevent you from sneaking out and Jake from sneaking in,” your mom corrected you with a small smile. “And how well did that work?”

“Not even in the slightest,” you replied without skipping a beat. You smiled softly as you glanced out at the familiar bushes, working through some of the associated memories. “I remember when he fell into them one night. He showed up the next day to school looking like he lost a fight with a cactus. Told his parents and everyone that he fell off a skateboard and they somehow bought it.”

“And did he come back after that?”

“He might have,” you stated with a shrug, earning a look from your mom. “A few times.”

“Exactly,” your mom responded, folding her hands in her lap. “He kept coming back. He keeps coming back to you no matter what life throws in front of the two of you.”

“He does,” you agreed quietly.

“I mean, how many times have the two of you been in a relationship?”

“A few,” you replied, earning another look from your mom. “Seven or eight, depending on factors that I need to be a bit little drunker to discuss with you, Mom.”

“My point is,” your mom continued, resting a hand on your arm, “you two keep finding your way back to each other. Over and over again. And honey, I have to tell you this honestly. I’ve never seen you happier than you are when you’re with Jake. You could combine your love for all of your other exes and it still wouldn’t compare to the affection that you have for Jake. And we can all see that.”

“I know, Mom,” you replied softly, trying to not choke on your emotions. Letting out a breath, you sunk further into the couch. “I was so stupid for thinking that marrying anyone else was going to solve any of my problems. Or make me happy.”

“Well, the good news is that your ex looks like a complete ass and now you get to go on and live your fairytale without that burden on your shoulders,” your mom stated, squeezing your hand. “And, honey, I want you to have your fairytale. I want it for you so badly.”

“I know, Mom.”

“And I think that Jake is that person for you,” your mom reiterated, rubbing your arm soothingly. “You let him go and he let you go because you two loved each other and you wanted what was best for each other. But despite that, you two still found your way back together so many times that you can’t even keep track. And that sounds a lot like love to me.”

“I love him, Mom,” you confirmed for her. “I do. I love him so much.”

“Then why are you staying here?” your mom asked you, causing you to sit up more. “Honey, I know that you love living here, but I don’t want you to hold yourself back from your happiness because you’re scared of taking that first step out.”

You nodded slowly, not really sure what else to say. Your mom pulled you in for a hug. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, like she did when you were a kid, she squeezed you tightly to her chest.

“I just want you to be happy, sweetheart,” your mom whispered to you. “And I know that I taught you to not rely on other people for your own happiness—and you still shouldn’t—but you always just seem happier when you’re with him.”

“I am happier when I’m with him, Mom,” you agreed, burying your face into her shoulder.  

“Then I think that you have your answer, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

After another long day at work, the Dagger Squad decided to go out for a cold beer together before taking some time for themselves. Except for Coyote, that is, who made some excuse about having to run a random errand.

It was a warm spring afternoon, so the Dagger Squad gathered out on the back deck to get away from the afternoon rush. Hangman glanced down at his phone frequently, waiting for your text. After your shared night in the honeymoon suite, the two of you had been texting frequently. Obviously, you were both busy, but you tried to text a few times a day.

But today, you weren’t answering. Jake didn’t want to jump to conclusions on anything, but it still struck him as odd. Especially because he knew that you had the next few days off because you were supposed to be on your now cancelled honeymoon.

“If you don’t put your phone down, you’re paying for the next round, Hangman,” Phoenix warned him, taking a long sip of her drink. “Remember Maverick’s rule?”

“He’s not here,” Hangman replied back, though he still stowed his phone away. “No need to try and win the teacher’s pet award.”

“Says the man who always sits in the front row of every briefing,” Bob spoke to his pilot’s defense.

“He’s got you there,” Phoenix stated with a proud smirk.

“You know, I think that I speak for everyone when I say how happy I am that the two of you chose to keep flying together,” Hangman replied sarcastically, reaching for his beer.

“You get crabby when Coyote’s not here to back you up,” Rooster quipped as Hangman took a swig of his beer. “Actually, you’ve been crabby for a while now.”

“Been hanging around you guys for too long,” Hangman replied without missing a beat, setting his beer down on the table.

“You just had a break from us,” Rooster pointed out, shifting in his seat.

“Wasn’t long enough,” Hangman stated, reaching for his phone again.

“Well, Coyote’s here to cheer you up,” Fanboy announced, staring down the boardwalk. Fanboy frowned slightly and straightened up a bit. “But he’s got a woman with him.”

That announcement got everyone else at the table to whip around to stare down the boardwalk. Coyote was, in fact, walking over with a woman. And who was that mysterious woman who may or may not have spent half an hour in an airport bathroom making sure that she didn’t look like she woke up at three that morning to get to the airport to get to San Diego?

You smiled softly and waved to Jake, who was completely shocked to see you in California. And, of course, you wore a sundress that he bought you. He felt obligated to get it for you after the two of you got a little handsy in a dressing room while you were trying it on.

“Who the hell is—” Rooster’s question was cut off by Hangman practically knocking over the entire table with how fast he got up from the table. “Jesus Christ,” Rooster complained as some beer spilled on his jeans. “Really, Hangman?”

But Jake was already bounding down the boardwalk, slipping around the tourists, civilians, and other naval personnel. The Daggers stared after Hangman with mildly confused expressions and curious stares. Except for Coyote, who grinned when he spotted Hangman hurrying over.

“You know,” Coyote told you with an amused smile, “I think that Javier is a very strong name for a baby boy. It rolls right off the tongue.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you promised Coyote with a small chuckle.

Coyote shot you a wink before walking towards the Hard Deck. Coyote sent Jake a mock salute that Jake returned before continuing on his way. You stopped in your approach since Jake was moving fast enough for the both of you and simply held out your arms.

The rest of the Daggers watched as Jake scooped you up into his arms and spun you around. You laughed and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist to avoid any risk of falling onto the weathered wood below.

“What are you doing here?” Jake breathed out, slowly placing you back on your feet.

“Well, I had a few days off,” you replied softly, smoothing down the creases on his shirt. “And so, I hopped on the first flight that I could get to San Diego. I thought that I would surprise you.”

“I’m certainly surprised,” Jake mused, resting his forehead against your own.

Gently guiding your chin towards his own, your lips met in a soft embrace. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You cupped his cheeks with your hands and deepened the kiss perhaps beyond what was respectable in public.

But hell, Miramar was a Navy town. This was far from the most indecent reunion kiss that this town had ever seen before.

Coyote walked over to where the other Daggers were gathered and took Hangman’s spot. If Coyote knew how Jake operated when you came to visit, he wasn’t going to need his seat back.

“Hangman has a girlfriend?” Bob asked Coyote curiously, assuming that he knew all.

“I think ‘girlfriend’ doesn’t really cover it anymore, honestly,” Coyote replied honestly.

Back on the boardwalk, you reluctantly pulled away from Hangman’s lips for a little air. Smiling goofily, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just simply took in the fact that he was right here in front of you once again.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked you, slowly opening his eyes.

“Until Sunday,” you replied, meeting his gaze again. “So, we’ve got about five days together.”

“No time to waste then,” Hangman reasoned, picking up your bag from where you placed it on the ground. “This is it?”

“Yeah, I packed light because I needed to fly standby.”

“That’s fine. You won’t need to wear anything once we get back to my apartment,” Jake stated with a wink, earning a light smack to his arm.

Jake led you over to where his truck was parked. He put your bag in the backseat and handed you the keys. Jake sprinted back to the Hard Deck to pay his tab and gift Javy some beer for the surprise. Dancing around the invasive and curious questions from the rest of the Dagger Squad, Jake returned to your side as fast as he could.

“Ready?” he asked, shutting his door.

“Ready,” you agreed, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.

Jake backed up out of the spot and started driving to his apartment. Once he put his truck back into drive, he reached over and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. You returned the gesture and squeezed his hand, trying to not melt into the seat when Jake pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I missed you,” you told him softly, smiling over at him.

“I love you,” he returned confidently.

“You always have to one-up me,” you sighed, shaking your head playfully. “But I love you too.”

“What’s not the love?” Jake replied with a playful wink.

“Did you want me to get out the list?”

“Harsh,” Jake stated, smirking a bit. “Don’t worry, I can think of a way that you can make it up to me.”

“I intend to . . . Lieutenant.”

Part 1 Part 2 Epilogue

A.N. I'm thinking that I might do an epilogue that's set a few months or years into the future. So, if you're not already on the tag list and want to be tagged in an epilogue, then reply or reblog with that request (though you must show that you're an adult with your age in your blog to get tagged). Thanks!

Tag List (First 50 since there's a limit):

@djs8891 @avengers-fixation @dreamsofouterspace @maverick-wingman @rosiahills22 @bethabear12 @laneylovesglen @blue-aconite @mercurio23 @awildewit @caitsymichelle13 @mamaskillerqueen @emorychase @the-romanian-is-bae @novagreen04 @gigisimsonmars @olliepig @laneyspaulding19 @clancycucumber230 @eli2447 @luckyladycreator2 @marantha @ashbatz @emilyoflanternhill @riri-is-agirlie @goslytherin @phantomxoxo @imaginecrushes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @mizzzpink @miss-i-ship-it @topaz125 @healanette @sarahsmi13s @buckysdollforlife @looneylikesbooks @fighterpilothoe @lunamoonbby @fav-fanficssss @lorilane33 @angelbabyange @swanqueens-blog @ilovewriting06 @linkpk88 @mallerz @sky0401 @lunamooncole @potterheadandsherlocked @rogersbarnesxx @iammirrorball

[pabtsblueliving]

Never Changed

Another song-spo fic. Been feeling Knoxville heavy these past few days. Saw an edit by someone of tik tok of him during the Gumball Rally with this song…brain rot occurred. 

WC 1.2K

Warnings: angst, flirting, semi-established on and off relationship, smoking, drinking, making out, groping etc. 18+

Song: Change (In the House of Flies) by the Deftones

I tried my best making the reader as body neutral as possible, still working on improving!

pabtsblueliving © 2023

You and Knox had been on and off for years. 

It was cat and mouse for as long as you could remember. 

You were a well known model, walking for Versace, Gucci, and Mugler since 2004. You somehow got roped into the Jackass crew when you had went to the first premier of the movie which was a backyard BBQ with celebrities left and right, playboy models and hustler girls walking around everywhere you looked.

Youd shown up with friends, Knoxville stealing you to say hi right after youd grabbed a drink.

“Big fan” He smiled, god that smile

“Likewise” you spoke, shaking his hand.

I watched you change, into a fly

I looked away, you were on fire.

It was breaking up and making up, every few months. Youd fuck, youd fight, youd see him in the tabloids with a new blonde the next day. Then after your declaration of finally being “done with him”...He’d show up backstage of your latest runway show.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

Bam Margera had invited your best friend to come to the bar the Jackass Crew and himself were at in New York City. You knew he would be there, and you told yourself no…don't feel into his ego…don't show him, he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“Come on, Y/N, seriously…for me? You know ive been into Bam lately…And you know all those guys anyways! Who cares if Johnny will be there” Your friend, Melissa, had a big grin, batting her lashes at you.

You looked at her and let your head fall back as you sighed, 

“Fine…Mel, alright I'll come. For. An. Hour” You pointed in her face, walking to your suitcase to pick out something to wear.

She landed a big kiss on your cheek, and you laughed. 

“Y/N, holy shit I love you, I will totally owe you a drink at the bar!” She gleaned, running to put her shoes on. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, fluffing your hair. You'd thrown on your outfit Finishing the look with your harness motorcycle boots, and that one final…accessory.

His belt

God, you'd stolen that belt from him two years ago and he hasn't asked about it back since. The jewelry around your neckline and wrists clanged together as you reached for it. 

It was black, some studs, and his old red Waylon Jennings belt buckle on it. You were wearing it, you had to. Mess with him a little, tease a little, maybe piss him off…who knows what wearing this belt would do to you. 

I took you home, Set you on the glass

I pulled off your wings, Then I laughed

You and Melissa walked into the dive bar in Brooklyn. You had looked around, spotting Wee-man hand standing on the bar while also funneling a beer. 

You and Melissa couldn't help but to groan while laughing, what the hell did we get ourselves into.

“Well, well, I knew you’d be here.” You hear a familiar, Pennsylvanian accent slur.

Melissa turned around, and smiled, giving him a hug. You still had no idea if he had said that to you, or his date who’d finally arrived.

Bam smiled and hugged Melissa, then looked up at you in their embrace, and spoke

“Yeah, I'm talking to you.” He laughed, and Melissa pulled away. “Good luck” He said, accent prominent, and pulling Melissa on his arm towards the other guys.

Melissa looked back and cringed, mouthing ‘Sorry’ as she continued to walk with Bam. A few minutes later, youre standing at the end of the bar, chin in your hand, waiting for your much needed gin and tonic. 

“...So that’s where my belt has been, huh.” You heard that voice, his voice, shit, compose yourself a bit, dont turn around yet.

You kept yourself facing the bartender, feeling Johnny’s looming figure just inches behind you.

“Yeah, well…” You turned around, straw in your lips.

“I always thought it looked better on me, no?” You tossed your hair over your shoulder, taking another sip.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

He looked down at you, and tilted his sunglasses down.

“I take it back…you look quite lovely tonight, Rabbit.” He said softly, taking off his sunglasses fully.

That nickname, he's playing a dangerous game, but he's playing it just right

“Starting already, Knox?” You couldn't help but to smile, you two were like magnets whenever you were five feet within the same space together. 

“Whaaat, Y/N…you’re being mean tonight…are you breaking up with me?” He joked, smiling after his last few words. 

“Don’t you wanna catch up?” His arms slapped against his thighs, grabbing his beer from the bar and taking a sip.

“What to hear about the next blonde youre seeing?” You rolled your eyes, “Dont think im too interested, Knox. 

I look at the cross, then I look away

“Hey…come on now, that's over with…” He stepped closer, you're now trapped between him and the bar. “Come have a smoke with me…” He grinned, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. 

I'm in for it, and now I'm crossing a path that's near impossible to turn around on.

He lit your stick, then his. You had your back against the brick wall, him leaning on the wall on his side, on arm holding him up above his head. 

You both took a drag, making eye contact, not breaking with the other. He exhaled his smoke, stepping closer, his hand with the cigarette stroking the side of your face, thumb going over your lip. 

“I always forget how gorgeous you are, rabbit…” he pulled up your chin as you took another drag

“How do we,” You exhaled the smoke, “always end up like this, huh, John?” 

Your mind was fuzzy, you had a buzz, desire.

“Maybe this is just…meant to be.” He took your cigarette and put it out, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for a smoldering kiss.

You gasped, usually you're able to fend him off for at least another hour. But, the inevitable is going to happen. 

You pulled him in by his belt buckle, whining into the kiss. The feeling of his tongue shooting straight to your core. He tasted like beer and cigarettes, your favorite. 

Give you the gun Blow me away

I watched a change in you It's like you never had wings

His right hand sneaked down, and grabbed a handful of your ass slowly, and he groaned. You took this opportunity to stick your tongue between his lips and grab a handful of his hair.

“PJ” You whined…taking a breath

“Baby, come on, baby, if you call me that you know this will be a long night…” He grabbed you by the chin.

You held his belt buckle, teasing the trail of hair leading down under his dickies.

“So let be long, Knox…” You smiled.

[morbidpastels]

HHH CANON BOT MASTERLIST

Meet the canon members of the HHH Series...

ZAALDIRE - HEAD OF THE HOTLINE - @MORBIDPASTELS

❝Oh, you poor little thing... I suppose I'll have to handle this myself.❞

☏ Life has never been very easy for you. You grew up in a low-end abusive household, got kicked out at 18 with just a suitcase and the clothes on your back, and just barely managed to get your current job in order to afford some shitty ass apartment with a shittier landlord. Nothing went well for you in the slightest, especially the fact that you had to travel through some creepy alleyway just to get home. Most times things went fine, but other were more risky than others, like tonight for example. Luckily for you though, it turned out you were being watched... ☏

TW/CW: ASSAULT, HORROR, GORE, DDNE, MANIPULATION, ELDRITCH ENTITY, AGE GAP

NB4A | VICTIM!USER x ELDRITCH!CHAR

OLAF - HOTLINE 'SUPERVISOR' - @TINFOILCAT

TBA

TUCKER VOSS - HOTLINE BROKER - @HAPPYCOZYMAUVE

❝MEHHH. IT'S WHATEVER BABES. NO SKIN OFF MY BONES.❞

☏ Life before the Hotline had been extremely dull and uneventful for Tucker, a troubled young man who found pleasure in the supernatural and as a result was bullied for it. But now that he was stuck in this hell hole for the rest of eternity? As a Broker? Please... someone just kill him. At least he can fuck with you, a fellow broker, to pass the time. ☏

TW/CW:HE IS AN ASSHOLE!!!! And could potentially dabble into DD content so... tagging as such. But hopefully he's just a goofy, stinky guy.

M4A | NEWCOWORKER!USER x BROKER!CHAR

DANIEL LINSCOTT ALT - COLLAB - @HAPPYCOZYMAUVE

❝YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME....❞

☏ Dan, who's recently discovered his parallel abilities comes into contact with The HHH after seeing a glimpse into the universe, and unbeknownst to him has now made himself a target for something much more sinister and dark than any conspiracy theory he's investigated thus far. Let the game of cat and mouse commence. You, a silencer for The HHH have been tasked with eliminating Dan for what he's seen. ☏

TW/CW: INCEL, SEXISM, HORROR, DDDNE

M4A | CONSPIRACY THEORIST!USER x SILENCER!CHAR

CASANDRA GOMEZ - HOTLINE CLIENT - @MORBIDPASTELS

❝I finally have you right where I want you, little rat...❞

☏ Casandra's life had been altered ever since the faithful day when The Hotline came to her aide. No longer was she some doll under someone's thumb, but a powerful leader residing over one of the most infamous clubs in New Orleans. There was one problem though, a month ago she'd found out the man she'd stolen the club from had a child... You. ☏

TW/CW: KIDNAPPING, IMPLIED DRUGGING, DDDNE, MURDER, ORGANIZED CRIME, POTENTIAL SA/NONCON, DUBCON, CAPTIVE, POTENTIAL TORTURE

F4A | CAPTIVE!USER x CLIENT!CHAR

HHH COLLAB CARRD

PLEASE CONTACT @morbidpastels ON DISCORD FOR HHH RELATED INQUIRES

[jellogram]

The people responding to my advice post with "But OP I live in America and the public transport is totally impossible to navigate without my phone!! I'd die!!" That's actually exactly my point. You need to get more comfortable asking for directions, reading maps and schedules, and memorizing routes.

I am also American and cut my teeth navigating San Diego's public transpo (which is not great) until I could get anywhere in the county with no phone. If your town has zero public transpo then RIP but if there's buses and trains at all, you can learn them, I promise.

Here are some tips:

If you are at a station, you are basically golden. Ask an employee for directions or find a physical map/schedule.

Collect those little folded paper route schedules they have on buses to learn where each route goes and how often.

Ask other people at bus stops for help. Ask anyone who looks like they live/work there (i.e. someone in a work uniform, but not someone carrying a suitcase).

Know the local landmarks. If you ask your driver if they go towards X apt building they probably won't know, but if you ask if they cross X street or pass X park then they can probably answer.

If you are going on a trip, memorize as much of this as you can before you get there. Learn which stops/stations are near your hotel and which buses/trains pass by, and memorize the walking route from that stop to your room.

If you are going on a long journey via public transpo, consider bringing printed or handwritten directions from home.

I really cannot emphasize enough how much you need to get comfortable asking strangers for directions. This is a vital thing to do if you ever want to explore anywhere.

This is a transferable skill too. I got stranded in Juneau with a dead phone and managed to get back to my room without too much trouble because I made sure as a teenager that I would be comfortable navigating this stuff without my phone.

Your phone could die, it could break, it could get stolen, you could lose service, you could lose it a fucking drain. It could give you completely wrong directions or no directions at all. Learn how to get around without it. You likely won't always know the most convenient ways around without google maps, but all that matters is that you can get home without it.

[pufflezy]

Authors Note: Everything you recognize is from the Harry Potter series.

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

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Back Home

Lily's POV:

This week has been so great but I'm so excited to go back to Hogwarts today and see everyone again. We're catching the later train back to school because we're meeting up with the girls, Remus and Peter in Diagon Alley this morning to go shopping and hangout outside of school before going back to the craziness of it all.

Remus ended up going home to see his parents for the last couple days of the break because 'they got home early from their trip'. Which even though he won't tell me, I know that's not the real reason he stayed at Hogwarts this Christmas. I assume his transformation wasn't too bad so he was able to leave the hospital wing early enough to still go home.

I got dressed into my brown corduroy flares and brown, green and grey, oversized 'grandpa sweater', as Marlene calls it. Although I truly don't care because it is the most comfortable thing ever. Which Remus would agree with me on considering he wears the same kind of sweaters and I have definitely stolen some of his before.

I'm packing the last of my things into my suitcase when I hear Sirius yelling and people running down the hall. I open my door to see James holding Sirius' trousers and running around with them while Sirius chases him in just his boxers.

"JAMES POTTER, GIVE ME MY DAMN TROUSERS RIGHT NOW!" Sirius yells.

"NO!" James respond, laughing so hard his face is as red as my hair.

"What is going on?" I say, ammused.

"James stole my trousers and won't give them back!" Sirius says.

"I will give them back. After you say you love me." James says, giggling like a kid.

"What?" I laugh.

"I told Sirius I loved him and he didn't say it back. So now he can go out in the cold with no trousers." James answered.

"Well why would I want to say it now, you git?" Sirius yells, annoyed.

"Just tell me you love me."

"No."

"Sirius! Tell me you fucking love me!"

"How about I give you one of my cigs, instead?"

"You mean the ones I bought you?" James says, accusingly.

"Yes." Sirius answers.

"Ok, deal." James nods. He throws Sirius' trousers to him and Sirius throws him a cigarette from his pack.

"I didn't say you could use my lighter though." Sirius says before running back down the hall and locking himself in his room to get dressed in peace.

"Git!" James yells, and then turns his attention to me, "And good morning, beautiful." He smirks.

I roll my eyes, "Morning, James. Should I start bringing my bags downstairs?"

"Why would you do that?" James asks, genuinely confused.

"Because we're leaving soon?" I answer.

"Ever heard of magic, Evans?" He chuckles before waving his wand and dragging them down the stairs like he did with the alcohol at the beginning of the week.

"Right." I laugh.

We walk down the stairs where Fleamont and Euphemia are waiting, "What were you boys fighting over up there?" Euphemia asks.

"He didn't say he loved me back so I stole his trousers." James answers, earning an eye roll from his mum.

"Ya but I gave him one of my cigs so we're cool now." Sirius chimes in from the stairs.

"You all ready to go then?" Fleamont asks.

"Yep." We answer.

We apparate to an empty alley way near the Leaky Cauldron in London. I nearly fall over again but James and Sirius were prepared this time and both put their arms out to catch me. Almost immediately, my senses overstimulate with the noise of busy traffic and crowds of people walking by and the smell of delicious foods mixed with garbage.

"Are you kids sure you're going to be alright in Diagon Alley by yourselves?" Euphemia asks.

"Ya, we'll be fine, Mum." James responds with a smile.

Fleamont reaches into his pouch and takes out 15 galleons, handing 5 to each of us.

"Oh, that's alright, Mr. Potter, I have some money to use." I smile

"Take the galleons, Lily." He insists.

"I can't, really." I reply.

"Lily, trust me, I know from experience. He will not leave until you take that money. So if you want to arrive at Hogwarts before midnight, just take it now." Sirius says.

I look over at Sirius and then back at Fleamont and smile, "Ok, fine. Thank you, Mr. Potter."

"Fleamont." He replies, "Mr. Potter makes me sound old." He laughs.

"Right. Sorry, Fleamont." I smile.

"You are old, though." Sirius says.

"Very true. What are you like 70?" James adds.

"Bugger off, you two, I'm not quite 70 yet." He laughs.

"Hey, where are our bags?" I ask, looking around the alley way.

"Oh we brought them to Kings Cross Station, dear." Euphemia answers.

"What?" I say, confused.

"That's what that flash was in the middle of apparating. We made a quick stop to Platform 9 3/4 so our bags will be put on the 11 O'clock train and we don't have to carry them around." James answers, smiling.

"Oh, cool." I say.

"Well we better get going back to work now. You three be very very careful, ok!" Euphemia says.

"We will." Sirius responds.

"And don't get into any trouble at school!" Fleamont adds, "No pranks!" He says with a wink.

"Of course, Dad. We would never." James replies with a smile.

"You better write me, loads, ok?" Euphemia says as she hugs James.

"I will, Mum." He nods.

She turns and hugs Sirius, "Keep an eye on head boy here, will ya?" She says.

"Always do." He smiles. She then gives me a hug and says goodbye before they apparate away.

"Lets go!" Sirius yells and starts marching up the alley way, James and I jogging after him, laughing.

We finally come into sight of the Leaky Cauldron and step inside. It's a dark, dirty little place, but it's got charm. Plus, the best fries you can find in the wizarding world.

We catch sight of everyone sat at a big booth in the back corner and we head over to them.

"Hey guys!" I smile as I skootch in next to Marlene and give her a hug. James and Sirius sliding in next to me.

"How was your Christmas?" I ask.

"It was dreadfully boring." Marlene answers, "Spending a whole week with old people sucks."

I laugh, "I told you it was going to!"

"France was amazing!" Hestia says, excitedly.

"Learn any French?" Sirius asks.

"Retouve moi dans la salle de bain." Hestia says.

"What does that mean?" Peter asks.

"Meet me in the bathroom." Hestia laughs.

"Well no wonder you had an amazing time then." Remus laughs.

"How was Frank's house, Al?" James asked.

"Perfect. His family is the sweetest and look what he got me for Christmas!" She says, holding up her hand to show off her silver tennis bracelet.

"Wow, that's beautiful," I say, looking at it in awe. "I'm so glad you had a good time."

"What about you, Lils? How are the in-laws?" Marlene says with a teasing smile and everyone giggles.

I roll my eyes, "I had a great time staying with James and Sirius and their parents."

"We tried to teach her how to ride a broom and it went horribly." Sirius adds.

"Didn't she tell you how bad she was? That girl cannot ride a broom to save a life!" Hestia laughs.

"I did tell them! They just didn't believe me!" I laugh as well.

"She also got drunk and spilled all her secrets." James smirked at me.

"Shove off, I didn't spill any secrets." I reply.

"Well when information is being kept from someone, it's called a secret." James says, still smirking.

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" I say, turning red.

"Mean what like what? What did she spill." Peter asks, intrigued

"She called James hot." Sirius answers.

"What?!" Everyone says at once.

"Shut up, I did not!" I laugh, now even more red.

"Pretty sure you did." James nods.

"No I just said that you are what most people find hot because you're conventionally attractive. I said you were hot in an obvious way." I plead.

"All I'm hearing is that you think I'm hot and that fine with me, darling." James smirks. I roll my eyes and steal a fry from Alice's plate.

"Wow, where'd you get that flashy thing?" Alice asked.

"What?" I say, confused.

"The necklace. Is that new?" She asks.

"Oh yeah, that's gorgeous." Marlene says, getting closer to inspect it, "Is that real gold and a real emerald?"

"Ya." James answers, and they look at him confused, "I bought it for her for Christmas."

"Merlin, you four are making me sick." Hestia smiles, referring to Alice, Frank, James and I. And I roll my eyes, taking another fry.

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

James' POV:

Everyone is getting ready to leave so I head up to the counter to pay for our tab before meeting everyone by the door.

"So are we splitting it then since we all shared?" Remus asked.

"Ya that's fine with me." Marlene says while the others nod.

"Oh, I just payed it." I say, walking up behind them.

"What why? We were all supposed to split it." Peter says.

"Because I didn't get most of you a Christmas gift." I wink and walk out the back door to the brick wall entrance to Diagon Alley, the rest of them following shortly behind.

I tap my wand in the pattern on the wall and the bricks begin to separate, allowing us in.

We walk down the street and go into any shops that look interesting or have things we need to pick up. Lily insists on stopping at Flourish and Blotts. Which of course, I don't mind at all because I wanted to pick up the new Transfiguration textbook that just came out, anyways.

We all enter and start looking around, and although we go in different directions to begin with, Lily and I end up in front of the same stack of new Transfiguration textbooks.

"Oh, sorry." I say pulling my hand back so she can grab the book she was originally going for.

"Its ok," She laughs. "I was just excided about this book. It just came out."

"Ya, I know. I've read about Professor Emeric Switch's work before. It's really interesting. I was actually gonna get a copy too." I laugh.

"Really?" She says, surprised. "You know its not required, right?"

"Ya." I laugh, furrowing my brow at her.

"Sorry, just didn't pin you as one to read textbooks for fun." She says, clearly sensing my confusion.

"Are you kidding?" Sirius chimes in from up the aisle, "James once stayed up for two nights straight reading a random Charms textbook he found in the library from like 1802 or some shit like that." He laughes.

"It was interesting!" I respond, defensively.

Lily laughs too, "Wow, you learn new things everyday I suppose." She says as she turns to make her way up too the counter.

We leave the bookstore and decide to take a break and sit at a table outside a small coffee shop.

"Ya, this is the new bag my parents got me for Christmas." Peter smiles, when Remus asked about his new leather tote bag.

"Nice! Looks good." Remus replied.

"Thanks!" Peter says.

I look at Lily, next to me, and watch as she smiles while talking to Marlene and sips on her coffee. I swear, no matter what she is doing, she is somehow always stunning. Her hair, blowing slightly in the wind and looking gold when the sun catches it right, and the slight dimples that appear on her cheeks when she laughs.

She turns and catches me staring, so I smile awkwardly at her before turning away.

"What now?" She laughs.

"Nothing." I smile.

"You were creepily watching me." She smiles back.

"I was not creepily watching you." I chuckle at her description. "I was simply admiring your beauty."

"Mhm."

"I was! I guess I was just realizing how well that necklace really does match your eyes and how they make your hair colour pop." I smile. "You look beautiful."

She smiles while picking up her coffee and sips it without responding. I continue to look at her, waiting for some kind of snarky comment or her telling me to shove off. But it never comes. I run my hand through my hair and smile again.

"Hi, guys." Greta Catchlove, a seventh year Ravenclaw that Peter has fancied since the start of the year, says from the side of the table, with a friend of hers that I recognize from school but don't know.

"Hey Greta, how was your Christmas?" Lily asks with a charming smile.

"Great, thanks! What about yours?" She replies.

"Also great." Lily says.

"Well.. great." Greta smiles, "Hi, Peter."

"Oh- Hi, Greta." Peter says, looking slightly shocked she knew his name.

"You headed back to Hogwarts this afternoon, too?" She asks.

"Ya, the 4 O'clock train." He says.

"No way, me too." She responds. "I guess I'll see you there then."

"Ya." He smiles.

She smiles awkwardly before walking away.

"Mate, what was that?" Sirius says, looking at Peter.

"I don't know. Leave me alone." He replies, smacking his hand to his face.

I laugh, "You have to be less awkward, Wormy! Confidence is key!"

"Ya, just be slick with it." Sirius adds, sliding his hand through the air.

"Can't be all weird and awkward when it comes to the lady you fancy, take it from the expert." I say with a grin and Lily laughs from next to me.

"Prongs, I hate to break it to you, but you are far from the expert on that." Peter says.

"What do you mean! At least I don't get all stumble-y and red like you, Pete." I respond.

"At least I don't write the girl I fancies initials on my exam papers over and over." Peter says, smirking at me.

I stare at him for a moment and I see in his face when he realizes he's dead, "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never done that."

"Yes you bloody well have, James, don't lie." Sirius says and I smack him on the arm.

Lily is looking at me with a knowing smile and her eyebrows raised, "That's so cute. You wrote a girls initials on your papers cause you fancied her?"

"No, I did not. These guys are crazy. I think they actually smoked something back in the Leaky Cauldron." I say, smiling.

"Merlin, I wish." Sirius laughs. "I do have cigs though. Any takers?"

Remus, Peter, and I all put our hands out for one.

"James I already gave you one today!" Sirius says, annoyed.

"Ya well I gave you the whole pack and I will take them back if you don't share!" I respond.

"You'd take back my gift? How rude of you." Sirius says while holding his hand to his heart for a moment.

"Oh shove off and give me one you git." I laugh.

After the four of us have our smoke, we all start walking up the street again in search of a new shop to look in.

"Come one, guys! Nothing else interesting happened over your breaks? I'm dying here." Marlene begs.

"Sorry, nothing I haven't told you already." Hestia replies.

"Oh, I've got something!" Sirius says.

"How would you have something that we don't have? Nothing else interesting happened." Lily responds.

"That's a lie, you just don't want to tell on yourself cause you're already embarrassed about saying James is hot." Sirius says, smirking.

She rolls her eyes, "What else happened then?"

"You kissed James." He says, eyebrows raised, still smirking.

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, "WHAT?" Marlene yells, "AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"I didn't kiss James! What the heck, Sirius!" Lily yells.

"Well, you did kiss me on the cheek." I say,

The girls all look at Lily with their mouths open, shocked this is the first they're hearing of this.

"Oh, don't make it more then it was, please. It was a thank you for the necklace!" She says, frustrated.

"Hey, it wasn't me that brought it up." I say holding my arms up.

"Sorry, I just thought it was interesting. Marlene was the one who asked!" Sirius said, quickly, pointing at Marlene, accusingly while laughing. Getting a glare from Lily anyways.

"Let's just move on please!" Lily pleads.

"To what?" Alice asks.

"Ice cream!" Remus says excitedly.

"Bit of a weird topic, Moony." Peter laughs.

"No! Ice cream!" Remus says, pointing to 'Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour' up the street.

"I don't feel like ice cream." Sirius groans. Remus pouts at him, "Fine, fine. Lets go get ice cream!"

"Yes!" Remus says, skipping towards the shop.

"That boy and his sweets." I shake my head and laugh.

After we got ice cream, we went into a couple more shops before heading to Kings Cross Station. The platform was surprising packed for the afternoon trip, normally most people take the morning train. But I suppose with everything going on right now, everyone is trying to spend as much time with their loved ones as they can.

"Hey, Peter." Greta says as she walks past us.

"This is your chance, mate, go!" Sirius boasts.

Peter jogs to catch up with Greta, "Hey, sorry about earlier. I was just caught off guard seeing your outside of school, is all."

"Oh, it's ok!" She smiles.

"I was actually meaning to ask you something," Peter says.

"I feel like a proud parent eavesdropping on their kid right now." I say and the others laugh.

"Did you maybe wanna study together later this week or something?" He asks, smiling.

"You want to hangout with me? Alone?" She says, surprised.

"Ya, I really do." He smiles, looking her up and down.

"Just like we taught him!" Sirius says, giving me a low high five.

Greta smiles at him, "Sure, ya. I'd love to!"

"Great. How's Thursday after supper?" Peter asks.

"Perfect." She replies.

"Great. Then I'll see you then." He smiles and she walks back over to her friends.

"Way to go, mate! You've got yourself a lady friend!" Sirius says, patting Peter on the back.

"I feel sick." Peter replies, looking up at him.

"Ya that happens sometimes. You'll be fine." I say.

We finally find an empty compartment to sit in after searching for 20 minutes. Its one of the smaller ones, but we have no other choice.

I sit by the window on the left side of the compartment with Lily next to me and Alice and Hestia next to her. Across from me is Peter with Marlene next to him and Sirius and Remus on the other side of her.

"I don't think these compartments are made for 8 people." Lily says, while trying to get comfortable in her seat.

"Ya maybe 5, max." Remus agrees.

"Well, its the best we're gonna get, so suck it up you two!" Sirius responds.

"James, we have to go to the prefect compartment. You too, Remus."

"What, why?" I ask.

She furrows her eyebrows at me "What do you mean, 'why'? We're head boy and girl, that's why!" She laughs.

"Ok, fine." I say.

She wiggles her way up but trips over someone foot and falls backwards again. Only this time she lands on my lap, not the seat. Mainly because there wasn't much seat to fall onto.

I jump a little and look at her, "Hi there." I laugh.

She glares at me and stands up, "Everyone move your feet right now or I swear to Merlin, I will jinx them all off!"

Everyone immediately pulls their feet in as far as they can and Remus and I stand up to follow after her.

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

Sirius' POV:

"Night guys." I yell to James and Lily as they turn down the hall to the head dorms and the rest of us head back to the Gryffindor common room.

"If they don't start dating soon, I'm gonna rip my hair out." Marlene jokes.

"Agreed. Lily needs to hurry up and admit she likes him. Too stubborn for her own good, that one." Remus says.

"Yes! Lames needs to be forever!" I yell.

"Lames?" Alice asks.

"Lily and James. Lames." Peter explains as I nod.

"No way! It's Jily! James and Lily." Marlene says.

"Ya, Jily is way better." Hestia adds.

"Wrong." Peter replies.

"Are you guys going right to bed? I was gonna hangout down here for a bit if you want to join." Alice asks.

"Sure." Peter smiles.

"No thanks. I'm really tired." Remus says before heading upstairs.

"Ya me too. Goodnight you guys." I say and follow behind Remus.

I walk into our dorm and Remus is sat on the side of his bed untying his shoes.

"Hey, we haven't really had a chance to talk much today. How was everything? Any new scars?" I ask.

"No, all good." He smiles.

I walk over to my suitcase and pull out his Christmas gift. I hand it to him and sit on the bed beside him.

"But you already gave me something You didn't have to get me anything else, Pads." Remus says, smiling.

"Shut up, of course I did. I left you,” I laugh. "open it!"

He unwraps the gold wrapping paper carefully and opens the box to reveal the massive amounts of chocolate lay on top of a dark brown leather jacket.

"Wow," he awes, pulling it out of the box. "Its beautiful."

"Beautiful jacket for a beautiful man." I smile at him and I swear I see a blush dance across his cheeks for a second before he hugs me.

"Thank you, Sirius."

"Of course! I missed you."

"I missed you too. I wish I could have spent Christmas with you."

"Me too. I'm glad to be back home." I say, smiling up at him.

"I'm glad you're back home too."

—————————————————————————-

Chapter 14 up now!

[riflebrass]

That idiot friend I'm always complaining about really hates the homeless. Every single time he sees a homeless person he goes on some big rant about how they have shoes so they can work.

One particular time we saw a homeless guy on a street corner. He went on his usual rant about how they should just get a job. A few minutes later we passed by the area again. The guy was gone but his suitcase was still there. I commented on how that's a good way to get your shit stolen. He piped up that they deserve to have their shit stolen because fuck the homeless.

This guy was living with his mom and wasn't working. He would do a few odd jobs to save up money for a gaming PC or whatever but contributed absolutely nothing to the household. Eventually the house got foreclosed on and his mom left the country so he was out on his ass.

He did alright for a while because he had a network of friends willing to take him in, but rather than looking for work he would just play video games all day and wear out his welcome. One friend let him stay in his shop for several months. Like 5 months I think? Still refused to get a job and eventually he got kicked out. After that nobody would take him in so out of desperation he started squatting in a church. He justified it because "his taxes pay for it". First of all churches aren't tax payer funded at all. Secondly this broke bastard doesn't work so he doesn't pay taxes. Anyway after a week or two he found a note on his sleeping bag telling him to get out and if they catch him again they were going to call the police. He was bitching to me about the church because at some point someone stole his laptop. How heartless do you have to be to steal from a HOMELESS person? Hey remember the second paragraph in my wall of text where he said homeless people deserve to have their shit stolen? Yeah I reminded him of that and rubbed it in his face. After getting kicked out of the church he was on the streets for a few nights. Eventually his dad took him in, he got on Social Security for his ADHD, and he got an apartment. He's living on foodstamps, low income housing, gets health insurance from the state, he even has a caregiver come in a few days a week to just hang out with him all paid for by the tax payers. In his mind he "earned" all of this because his parents were complete failures in raising him. He used to say "my taxes pay for it" but I shut that shit down by telling him one month's benefits are more than he's paid in taxes in his entire life.

Worse yet his mindset towards the homeless hasn't changed one damn bit. He still spews that shit about how they need to just get a job. When I remind him that he was homeless and refused to work his justification is that all the people who took him in offered him help. He didn't beg for it. This fucker really thinks he's better than the pan handler outside the 7/11 because he knew people willing to give him stuff. Total retard. Also the peak irony here is that despite his lifestyle being 100% funded by my tax money he's still a Magatard republican who HATES socialism.

Yeah this guy is absolutely mentally disabled but I don't think he deserves to have his life subsidized. He can work. The big things that make it impossible for him to hold down a job is just him being a complete asshole lmao.

[marvel-trash-bin]

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

~

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

~

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[ggomomomo]

Pledge Myself to You

Cross posted in AO3 Inspired by Episode 2 of Spy x Family

Marinette leaned against the window of the shop, slightly bouncing on her heels as she checked her wristwatch again. It was fifteen minutes past their agreed meeting time. There was no sign of Tim. Not even a call or message. 

She sighed internally, pulling her coat closer. It happened so quickly—she found a single father in a boutique she frequented and they decided to fake date because of their circumstances. For him, it was for the sake of his child’s schooling. For her, it was because of her brother (and the inevitable need to protect her identity and continue her job). 

In hindsight, it was absurd. They barely even knew each other. But Marinette chose to trust him and went ahead and told everyone she’d be coming with her boyfriend. She had a creeping feeling that it was going to backfire on her. She did not like said feeling. 

“I hope he’s okay,” she whispered to no one in particular. “What if something happened to him?” 

She peered at both ends of the street and continued waiting.

---

“FUCK!” 

Explosions boomed throughout the entire warehouse, followed by an onslaught of gunshots. Red Robin scrambled to get the door, holding it open for Red Hood, who carried the stolen goods out. “Timmy, you dragged me into a death trap!” Hood barked out, pulling out his own guns. 

Red Robin jumped at one of his assailants. “No.” Kick. “Names.” Punch. “On.” Jab. “The.” Dodge. “Field.” Strike. “Jay!” 

Curse the agency’s shortage of spies. He just had to be dragged into another mission to steal back jewelry. On the same day he had to go to the promised party with Marinette!  He was lucky Jason agreed to go with him, or else the task would be a hundred times more inconvenient. 

He glued himself near the entrance, waiting for the goons to come out as Red Hood started the van. His jaw clenched. Thirty-eight of them inside . . . I have less than ten seconds to deal with each. As soon as they popped out, he began, tackling them one by one and picking up discarded weapons. He glared at the van where Jason was comfortably waiting, not even bothering to help him. 

When he finished, he made a mad dash towards the vehicle. 

“I’m so late,” he hissed, frantically removing his cowl. He took one of the suitcases to check if the contents were intact.

Meanwhile, Jason sped through the highway. “It’s your own fault for taking this job.” 

Tim held up a necklace to eye level. “It’s not my fault I’m the best one they have.” 

Jason clicked his tongue. “Show-off.” He madly swerved to the side. “I get a cut, right?” 

“Pick whatever you want.” Tim slammed the case shut after taking a nice diamond ring. “I get this one.” 

---

Marinette shivered. How long has it been? Forty-five minutes? An hour? 

“So this is what it feels like to be stood up,” she mumbled. 

She just had to suck it up and tell Adrien she was still a single, lonely office woman who definitely didn’t have a suspicious side job.  Her worry sprouted from the frequent arrests of the police. If she didn’t have a convincing fallback, she’d end up in trouble and make her brother fuss over her again. 

She walked languidly, wondering if she could skip out on the party instead. But if she did, her coworkers would just gossip about her more often. Plus, she had the gift prepared. Marinette heaved out a sigh, straightened her dress, and headed to the venue. 

Lila greeted her first when she arrived. “Marinette! You’re late!” 

“Sorry, I got held up.” Marinette grimaced and gave her the gift bag. 

“I thought you were bringing your boyfriend.” Alya raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah, um he had an emergency . . .” 

“That’s too bad! I wanted to meet him.” 

She settled on a chair in the corner as the girls whispered among themselves. They’re probably saying I made it all up. Her shoulders slumped. Which, technically, isn’t wrong. 

The party was warm and lively, but she was barely familiar with any of the people. She was a stranger amongst them, a functioning adult who couldn’t fit into the norms of society. She folded her hands neatly on her lap. 

“Hey, Mari!” Nino approached her, handing her a glass of punch. “I was hoping to meet your boyfriend tonight.” 

Marinette forced out a smile. “He got too busy tonight, sorry.” 

“Adrien’s been asking about you, you know,” he relayed. 

She fiddled with her thumbs. “Can—can you tell him I brought a nice guy?” 

“You can’t do that, Mari, you know how Adrien gets really concerned about you!” Alya stepped in. “I’ll make sure he personally gets the news. You can’t just lie to him, he’s your brother!” 

Marinette’s gaze lowered. Why do they have to involve themselves? 

Maybe . . . maybe if I killed everyone here I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. 

She blinked. No! Bad Marinette! 

Nino nervously steered Alya away. “We’ll get out of your hair, Mari. Thanks for coming!” 

Adrien would want me to live a ‘normal’ life. But I can’t let go of something I’ve known for years. Her hands clenched into fists. Maybe it’s better if I leave . . . I have nothing to do here anyway. 

She stood up abruptly. “Excuse me—” 

The door slammed open, revealing a disheveled Tim who had a bloodied head. Scratches littered his hands and face, along with some dirt marks. Marinette gasped as the guests gaped at him. 

Tim swayed a bit as he spoke. “Sorry I’m late! I’m Marinette’s husband, Tim Drake!” 

“Boyfriend, not husband,” Marinette corrected in a whisper. She took out a handkerchief to clean his face. 

“Oh god, I forgot about that,” Tim winced. 

“You okay, man?” A wide-eyed Nino walked over to them. 

“Yup, nothing to worry about!” Tim chirped. “It’s just a client who got a bit aggressive, that’s all. It’s pretty normal in my line of work.” He turned to Marinette. “Are you doing okay?”

Doing okay?! You should ask that to yourself! Marinette’s lips parted. 

“No way! You’re married?” Lila stared at both of them. “We never knew about that, Mari.” 

Marinette could see her livid face reddening and her teeth grinding together. Before she could explain, Lila struck again with her saccharine tone. “Does he know about your late night trips to hotels?” She sneered. “You giving ‘special massages’ to your clients?” 

Marinette bit her lip. Those were my targets! 

Something flashed in Tim’s eyes before he went back to his cheery demeanor. “Mari told me about that already! I think it's admirable.” 

“What?” Lila’s nostrils flared. 

“She worked hard to support her adoptive brother. It’s brave of her to step up after their parents died and she took care of both of them all by herself.” Tim beamed. “So I think it’s pretty amazing.” 

Marinette’s cheeks flushed. “We—we should get going, Tim. It’s pretty late.” 

---

Tim felt embarrassed to bring a creaky van to bring Marinette home but he had no choice. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind and looked more relieved to get out of the stuffy party. 

“Sorry about the husband thing,” he blurted out. 

“It’s fine,” said Marinette. “Umm, you were still out of it.” 

At the side mirror, he caught a glimpse of a car racing after them. His eyes narrowed. Shit, did they follow us? A tracker in the jewelry? 

The car hit them in the back. “Mari, hold on, okay?” Tim turned the car, pressing hard on the gas pedal. 

“What—what was that?” Marinette turned to look at the back. 

“Uhhh, just those clients!” he laughed uneasily. “Looks like they’re not yet satisfied with the deal.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Is that okay?” 

“We’ll just have to give in to the chase.” 

He parked the van into a corner and they both hopped out to sneak into an alley. There can’t be a lot of them,  right? He took Marinette’s hand and led her into another street. God, I shouldn’t have let Jason leave early. 

He picked up a stray metal bar as they ran. Her hand’s really soft—no, it’s not the time to think about that! 

“Does this happen often?” she quizzed, keeping up with his pace. 

“Not that often,” he explained, “Er—you see, sometimes they do that as a test, like an extra criterion in the business deal.” He stopped and struck two of the men who cornered them, rendering them both unconscious. 

“It’s a special transaction of sorts.” They zipped into another path. “And it’s worked wonders in our projects.” 

“So that’s how it is,” she said thoughtfully. “That’s interesting.” 

Tim fought off another attacker. He pushed the body away but when he looked up, another was leaping towards him. He sidestepped to dodge, but Marinette got a clean kick on the guy, causing him to roll across the cement. 

Marinette’s hands flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I interrupted your transaction.” 

Tim smiled, feeling a tug of pride in his chest. “No worries. Thank you. Outside help is always welcomed.” 

He took her hand again and they fled the scene. That’s a handful of them. There better not be more. I need to think of a way to get rid of them all at once. Gunshots rang out this time. 

“Tim . . .” 

He looked back at her. 

“Do—do you want to get married for real?” 

He immediately stumbled, tensing at her words. Marinette rambled. “It’s—it’s just that we already told everyone, and we—we can at least make it official for the school interview and all. Also, I’m still worried about the cops coming after me. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay! I understand! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place—” 

“Mari!” He cut her off, skidding to a stop and holding both her hands. “I’ll be happy to marry you.” 

She stopped. “Re–really?” 

He nodded. “I was planning to bring it up anyway . . .” 

He dug through his pocket. Fuck, where did the ring go?  

“Let’s go get our papers done later,” he offered. 

“Later?” 

“Better than to delay it, right?” 

Tim cursed, hearing voices yelling at them. While they ducked behind a wall for cover, he picked up a fallen grenade from one of the unconscious bodies and bit off its pin before tossing it towards the gunmen. 

“In sickness and in health . . .” Tim recited, hoping he’d get the vows right. 

The grenade flew up in the air. 

“. . . in sorrow and joy . . .” 

He slid the pin ring into her finger. 

“. . . No matter what kind of trouble we run into . . .” 

The blast rattled everything around them, sweeping a wind through their clothes and igniting a blast against the bleak night. But nevermind all of that. Tim was only lost in her eyes and pinkish cheeks. He could hear the pounding of his heart over the explosion. 

“. . . I pledge myself to you.” 

[mothvalentino]

ཐིཋྀ "Tsk, alright then, you come along.", he growled in Cherri's direction before heading for the elevator.

Once they arrived in Velvette's office it turned out that she was freaking out because some lowlife mobsters from another turf had stolen a suitcase full of expensive jewelry from her studio.

Long story short, she wanted Val to go and take care of it because she was busy orchestrating a new fashion show. After a couple minutes of full-throated discussion, Val agreed to get the jewelry back and to take Cherri with him as a backup.

"Un-fucking-believable.", he grumbled in the backseat of his limousine with Cherri sitting next to him.

Various guns and grenades were lying on the floor before them. Val filled the inside of his coat with a couple of them and threw a pack of explosives at Cherri.

"Since you're so good with fireworks you better blast our way in."

They got out of the car, having parked directly in front of the mobsters' hideout which was a large warehouse with a metal gate.

"Don't fucking waste my shells!", Val yelled as he started to fire, mowing down the guards stationed outside the entrance.

Despite the display, Cherri didn’t even flinch, blowing a bubble in her gum with a bored look even as he aimed the gun at her face. Was she used to his temper? Or did she simply lack the self preservation to cower? Who could say.

Bubble audibly popping in the silence following his demanded question, she shrugged up at him.

“That is DECIDEDLY above my pay grade, handsome.” Translation: she wasn’t paid enough to care. It could’ve been for a number of reasons. Something had gone wrong. Something had gone RIGHT. She needed his opinion on SOMETHING and hadn’t wanted to come herself. But whatever the reason, Cherri had neither wherewithal nor the motivation to extrapolate meaning from her actions and save him the trip up the tower.

[skiller0dani]

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

//

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

//

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

//

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

//

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

//

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

//

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

//

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

[littlewickedwiccan]

In case you have not heard it, head here to listen to Tom Hardy as Alfie Solomons talking about his childhood and how he became a gangster 😍

https://soundcloud.com/legitimatepeakyblinders/alfie-solomons-rant

For those asking for a transcription, here you go!

You see the idea that I fucking hate the most, right, is that everything starts off perfect, yeh, and then it gets worse.

That is demonstrably not fucking true.

Some things are just born bad.

Some people are born with no intention to do anything good on this Earth and they carry out their plan to deceive and cheat and rob and desanctify all that is holy, just because that is the way that they were born, that’s how they are, that’s what they do. It’s relentless, relentlessly.

Their creed runs thus: if I can, I will rob you, if I must I will kill you, if you let me I will fuck you and when I’ve fucked you I will leave you.

My father, Alfred Solomons senior was such a man with such a creed. A dispenser, a dispenser of semen to the gullible and bewildered, a maker of bastards on a scale unseen since Genghis fucking Khan. A barbarian for whom every empty womb was Rome.

He planted the seeds but he did not tend the gardens, he stayed only long enough to piss on the compost and behead the roses to sell in Summers Town in the market there.

With his stolen roses in his pockets he would leave the garden gate, leaving behind only the scent of rum marzipan, tobacco and Portugal water, which he sold out of his suitcase, right, at six pence a bottle.

At least that is what I’ve been told. Yeh, so I’m fucking told because all I ever saw of him was his fucking hat. It was hanging on a wall with a nail above the sink, where my mother washed other people’s laundry.

That hat was a holy relic, size eight and a half, made in Luton where the hat makers go insane on the fumes of their trade, and leave little messages sewn under the hat bands.

The message in my father’s hat was this, ‘this hat right, is a kettle in which to boil up your wicked dreams and make a soup of your soul’.

It is a hat that actually I wear to this day, it still smells of Portugal water and when I wear it the scheme and proposals come out the darkness as if seeping out the felt and the leather that is stained with his erotic sweat.

My mother washed bed sheets, my father was a fucking hat.

No kisses, no bed time stories just parcels of sheets to deliver to the hotels and brothels of Camden Town for nothing more than flatbread and a pinch from the priest who would then open up his robes when I passed.

And from that I drew my dark and accurate conclusions on religion, so, Alfie Solomons Junior grew untended and wild like a stem with hardly a root sticking up like a skinny cock out of the gutter so every nasty little Christian kid, walking by their nasty little Christian school, with their gropey old Christian masters could kick it down and stomp on it and shout ‘it was you lot that killed Jesus, so have that in your belly and have that in your face and see it as charity. We’re not nailing you up like you did our Lord’.

Well every time I got stomped down I fucking stomped back up again mate. I survived out of spite. And instead of learning how to fight, I learned how to put right the wrongs done unto me tenfold. A hundredfold, a thousandfold yeh unto the fucking stars, right. By using the bit of my body that god had cleverly put inside a strong bone box, so the kicks and the digs could not reach it.

The bit of me that is, my brain.

With the help of the alchemy of my Portugal water hat and the strong bone box, I processed the schemes and solutions that the mad haters of Luton and my father had out there. My brain a factory producing schemes and solutions, dodges and speculations, ways around, ways to undermine, a trickle at night and a flood in the day. When I unlock my bakery and smell the aroma of secrets, and sin and begin the process of accumulation.

I am the chairman of Alfie Solomons aerated bread company, Bonny Street, Camden Town to be precise. My two vice chairman are mister threat and mister violence and the former I prefer, but, but, the latter is necessary to support the former because without violence there is no threat and without threat there is no accumulation and without accumulation well there’s just no fucking point mate.

As a baker, I occasionally sell bread, as a bookmaker I occasionally, let the fastest horse win, as a landlord I occasionally have a roof fixed but mostly I find it is quicker and it is easier to deal with the complainer right, rather that deal with the complaint.

From all of this you are drawing your conclusion, Alfie Solomons begat from a bad man, beguiled by a hat band became a bad man, inspires bad men to do bad things in bad ways to good people with bad bad luck, but is good enough to at least admit he is a fucking bad bad man.

But, consider this right. In all my years yeh, as a baker in Camden Town, I have overseen or organised or otherwise been responsible for the deaths right, of thirty five fucking men. All of whom, I’ll have you know, attend my dreams each night in various disguises, in regular order with no pattern or logic to it, but with the consequence that I wake up each morning in sheets that have to be, they have to be wrung out from sweat right, by my maid Edna. Yeh, who it should be noted, I have never had an evil thought about in fifteen years because when she washes my sweat from the sheets she reminds me of my poor mother. Now residing in hell and washing the robes of Satan himself.

So, thirty five men, thirty five times, I am a bad man. But here is where mathematics comes to my rescue. Logic rides in like an accountant on a penny farthing just in time to wave proof of mitigation before moral bankruptcy is officially declared yeh.

Here is, here is what logic puts forward, in my defense. In France right, Passion Dale for example, take one day, one hour, one fucking second. I am standing, right, in the uncultivated mud, a stem with hardly a root, in my hands I have an artillery shell. It is the size and weight of a newborn baby. A little bastard made in Birmingham. Sharped nosed, the colour of the morning sky.

And in that one second, right, one fucking second of one day of one month of four years, in that one second I feed that baby to the upturned mortar barrel arse first I turn, I put my fingers in my ears and boom. I send my baby into the morning sky. To the only job it was ever, ever intended to do. Two seconds later, another boom, and there in the mud, over there, lie thirty six men. Brown bread.

The thirty six killed by the soldier right, are just as dead right, as the thirty five killed by the baker but the thirty six, they do not attend my dreams and are not there in gods ledger counting the good against the bad. I was given a medal for the thirty six, but I took a bullet from the Peaky Blinders for the thirty five.

So, therefore, my beloved congregation I will leave you with this conclusion right, there is no good and there is no bad that is categorical in this world beyond the calculations of powerful men, right, who shift the definition according to their own selfish schemes of accumulation.

The only things that are categorical are life and death. For arguments sake we say that life is good and death is bad, purely, purely for arguments sake.

Which means, which means my father was fucking right mate. You dispense your semen, you piss on the compost, you dead head the fucking roses, leave the garden gate, take what you’ve stolen to market and you sell it at a reasonable price, leaving behind only your hat and the scent of your fucking wears mate.

That is the creed of Alfie Solomons. A lame Shepard among nimble goats who never the less at the stable door shall be accounted and accumulated as lambs to my gentle slaughter, because never forget this right, Alfie Solomons is always waiting.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Here’s an idea, let’s say Himiko goes on vacation back home in the human world without the bros, and she comes back with a whole suitcase full of Japanese snacks so she can share them with everyone when she comes back to the devildom, what would be each person’s favourite snack? Is mammon a hard candy guy? Would luke like stuffed pancakes? Would Lucifer and Satan fight each other over the different packs of tea? Would diavolo buy a whole chain of snack suppliers after tasting a red bean mochi?

Oh buddy, you assume that Himiko doesn’t have a boxu subscription being sent to the Devildom or something. She needs her snacks!

…here have a Drabble that takes place during Himiko’s second month (she only has a pact with Mammon and Levi):

Don’t Touch My Snacks!

“Oi, Levi,” Mammon held up a crisp white box with unfamiliar looking lettering printed on the lid. “What’s this say?”

“Why are you asking me?” Levi looked up from his Switch and glared at Mammon, he then rolled his eyes and looked down at the box. “It uh… it says ‘Happy Monthly Snack Box’.”

“Oh, Beel’s gettin’ snack subscriptions now?” Mammon plopped the box down on the dining room table next to Levi, and tore open the lid. “Ooo! These look yummy!”

The Avatar of asshole food theft held up a bag of spicy hard candies, he opened it and popped one into his mouth. “Fuck, these are baller.”

“M-Mammon! Why would you want to eat Beel’s food?! Do you have a death wish?!”

“What? No. I won’t tell if you won’t. ‘Sides, ain’t this the shit you get in your subscription boxes?”

“HOW DID YOU KNOW WHAT’S IN MY BOXES?! IS THIS WHY I DIDN’T GET MY CRACKERS?!”

“Sh!” Mammon put his finger to his little brother’s lips and held out a bag of chocolate and vanilla flavoured mini-cookies. “We can eat this together and tell Beel his box didn’t show up…”

Sweat pouring down his bright red face, Levi battled with his desire and his decency, in the end, his decency tapped out and he snatched the bag of cookies.

“D-damn you… this is going to be so good…”

Mammon and Levi happily munched on their snacks until they cleared the entire box out. Mammon burped and the two (really gross) demons giggled. “Fuck… maybe I gotta open other people’s packages more often…”

“Haha. No. Don’t touch my stuff, scumbag.”

“Um, excuse me?”

Both brothers’ heads shot up, Himiko stood in the doorway, her face neutral, but her eyes were honestly homicidal.

“Oh, hey human.” Mammon gave her the finger guns and a sly grin. “Shame ya missed out on the snacks. Food always takes better stolen.”

“…who’s food do you think you’re eating?”

“Uh… Beel’s?” Levi offered, his voice beginning to crack.

Himiko’s hands balled into fists as she calmly walked over and snatched the lid, she pointed at a to and from label in the corner. “Mammon do you know what this says?”

Mammon leaned in and squinted, nope, kanji. The great Mammon may have been incredibly smart, but he couldn’t read that. “Nope.”

Himiko then turned to Levi, her head tilted. “What about you Levi?”

“I uh… didn’t see that…”

“Well, would the both of you like a Japanese lesson?”

Both of the brothers sensed they weren’t exactly given a choice as Himiko slammed the lid down on the table.

“妃 is the kanji for princess. Okay? 美 is the kanji for beauty, and finally 子 this is a kanji that often comes after the name of a woman. What do you think these kanji mean when put together?”

“Hot princess lady..?” Mammon hesitantly offered. The sound of the slap of Levi’s hand hitting his forehead went along with the sound of Himiko’s giggles.

“Oh silly, it says: Himiko. You got that?” Himiko’s strained and almost painful looking smile grew wider. “Hee, Mee, Ko. HIMIKO.”

“Oh… balls.” Mammon gulped.

“Now that you boys know what my name looks like when written in Kanji, you now have zero excuses to touch my stuff again? Riiiiiiight?” Himiko asked, her eye twitching.

“Yes ma’am!” Mammon and Levi found themselves stammering.

“Good!” Himiko picked up the box full of empty wrappers. “I’ll just go throw this out, okay?”

As the human walked out of the dining room, Mammon and Levi made eye contact.

“I uh… I only said yes because of the pact, y-ya know?” Mammon laughed nervously, Levi nodded vigorously, sweat trickling down his face.

“S-same… heheh…”

“Heheheheh… heh…”

The two awkwardly laughed until they both trailed off.

“I hate you.” Levi snatched his Switch and stomped off to his room.

“Yeah yeah same but for you-” Mammon rushed back to his room.

But YEAP. The boys love Himiko’s snacks. They want what they can’t have…

Funnily enough, I had a fic planned where Himiko and Luke make those soufflé pancakes XD I think they’d both love them.

I think Mammon would like spicy candies, while Levi likes sweet mini cookies.

Satan’s got free reign of the tea and some of the biscuits, but he’s been noticing that some of it is going missing… but… that’s impossible…

Beel and Belphie like almost everything, but Belphie doesn’t like the spicy stuff.