#sorry to any and all people who requested stuff from me within the past month

[bucky-h0e]

A/n: Bucky's celebratory day! This is a long-term fic, so make sure to check out the Serendipity Masterlist for more Alpine and Bucky! I am open to requests and love hearing feedback - don't be shy!

So we get to see a little bit more of Alpine's character, other than the absolute chaotic mess that she was introduced as. This ended up being a lot more angsty than I wanted it, but I like how it went, Alpine's character needed a bit more development.

warnings: some absolute pure unfiltered fluff and angst (mainly angst), Alpine being a little sweetheart, Bucky nearly cries (for good reasons), mentions of both Bucky's and Alpine's trauma, an extremely angsty father's day (i am so sorry it just sort of happened)

Alpine's First Father's Day Celebration

Now, mother's day was a success. Much to Bucky's disappointment, Alpine and Sam had gone out for dinner that night, wanting some 'mother-daughter' bonding

Sam outright refused to acknowledge it as such

but seeing these two bond and grow closer over this celebration, Bucky was nervous about father's day

would he say he thought of Alpine as a daughter?

yes

does he think he deserves the absolute pleasure to be considered her father?

no

he did a lot of bad things in his past life and a part of him

a very small but frustrating part of him

would do it all again if it meant that Alpine would be in his life

it scared him and he hated that part of him

the part that was okay hurting people as long as Alpine was in his life one way or another

it was this type of thought that would cause Bucky to fear that the Winter Soldier still remained within him

despite everything he had done and all the help he had received, no matter how many therapy sessions he went to or how many people he apologised to

he still thought of himself as a monster

and he wasn't sure he'd think of himself any other way

which is why, on the days leading up to the first father's day they would celebrate together

Bucky avoided Alpine

she was livid

normally, she could just walk into his apartment

unafraid of him kicking her out, or of him attacking her out of pure instinct

she knew he wouldn't hurt her on purpose

or at least, she thought he wouldn't

so when she skipped across the hall, put her hand on the handle to twist and push it open, only the faceplant into the locked door

she was fuming

"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"

was her nose bleeding?

oh most definitely

after going back into her own apartment to stuff her nose full of tissues, she steps back out into the hall, knocking on the door

once

twice

thrice

"Bucky? You in there old man?"

silence

honestly, this man

she checks her phone in case he had gone on a mission late last night but normally he'd wake her

he knows she worries about him

when three more knocks went unanswered, she called Sam

he hadn't heard from him either

but he had heard that Bucky asked for an emergency therapy session

which surprised her because Bucky HATED going to those

"Sam, I'm real worried. His door is locked, LOCKED! I'm just looking for the spare key now then i can-"

"Hey, you still haven't gotten him a father's day present, why don't you run into the city today and see what you can get? I'll meet you later on, I just need to do something first."

she wasn't stupid

she knew what Sam was doing

she knew what he was thinking

Bucky had relapsed

impossible

Bucky would not have relapsed, not after everything that had happened with Zemo and the flag-smashers

after all the stress he had been through in those first few months of them meeting, everything that happened with Yori...

no

Bucky Barnes had not relapsed

he just needed some time to himself

to be reminded of who he was

and who he wasn't

what he wasn't

"Alpine? Al, you there kid?"

"Yeah! Sorry! I just panicked for a minute because I totally forgot i hadn't got him a present, thanks for the reminder. You'll check in on him right? Before you come and meet me?"

she could feel Sam's tension be released when she responded

"Yeah, yeah. You know, he's probably just being a little princess, jealous of all the time we're spending together. You know how much of a drama queen he can be."

Alpine can't smile at the joke

not when she knows it's only there to try and trick her into a false sense of relief

no, she wasn't stupid.

but she'd play the part anyway.

"Tell me about it, never thought I'd see a 106 year old super soldier be jealous of little ol' me, guess I'm just that amazing"

they say goodbye and Alpine takes one last glance at Bucky's door

worth a try

"Buck... I don't know if you can hear me, you might be in your room. If you are then you know, fuck you for making me talk to myself."

on the other side of the door, Bucky smiles

"I just... I want you to know that you're okay... and it's okay to not be okay... but you are. I know you are. Whatever this is, it'll pass and you'll work through it because you're James fucking Barnes and..." She pauses for a second because jesus christ

she is deadass about to tell Bucky she loves him

that he is her family

that he is her hero

that she would do anything for him

but she can't

because she would actually die of embarrassment

Alpine is not good at emotions

"a-and so, get your shit together, because i'm not giving up until you remember that James Barnes ain't no ones bitch!"

with that she very quickly leaves because ew, emotions

Bucky can't help but smile at her words of encouragement as he listens to the sounds of her footsteps getting further away, the elevator dinging as it opens for her, the almost silent, barely there sob that leaves her mouth as those same doors close

it's an hour later that he breaks out of the shock he was in when Sam knocks on the door, frantically calling for Bucky to open the goddamn door

he does and can't even register that Sam is furious with him for going no contact with both him and Alpine for two days

and Bucky stands there and takes the verbal abuse

because he made her cry

and he deserves Sam's angry shouts

and he needs him to knock some sense into him

because if Bucky knew one thing after hours of torturing himself with hateful thoughts

it was that he never wanted to be the reason for Alpine's tears

ever again

Now, Alpine hadn't meant to cry

in fact she was pretty sure that the last time she cried at something not induced by stress or laughing to hard

she was a child

back at home with... them

and she will be damned if she ever cried about anything not stress induced ever again

so in the short elevator ride to the lobby of their building, she had straightened herself out, wiped her tears and faced the city with a determined attitude

she would find Bucky a present that reminded him of who he was

she had introduced him to a lot of things in the 21st century

but nothing seemed to connect

that was until they watched The Hobbit, of course Alpine ended up falling asleep and Bucky stayed up like an actual maniac to watch all the movies in a span of 9+ hours (with bathroom breaks, he was sure he could have binged it but he also wanted to put Alpine to bed, so ended up having to pause it just to tuck her into his bed before returning to finish the movies)

She had heard Sam say that Bucky had claimed to have read the book when it first came out

when she heard that, she'd been looking at trying to get a first edition book for her dear friend and father figure

keeping tabs and making friends with local antique bookshop owners just to be able to get a chance.

what harm would it do to do the rounds whilst she brain stormed some other ideas for him

on her trip, she'd managed to get a few books she thought he'd might like

the harry potter series, eragon, the lion, the witch and the wardrobe

she would spoil him with love and affection (a very different route to Sam who was cursing Bucky out at this point)

the first few shops had unfortunately been duds in her search for the first edition Hobbit book, and she had started debating on just getting him a newer version of the series until the last shop she walked in

"Ah! I was just about to call you missy! I have that booked you've been looking for!"

She could have screamed

she did scream

so loud the other patrons thought she was actually getting stabbed

"NO YOU DON'T!"

she couldn't believe her luck! on the day she truly really needed it, she had found a first edition book, one exactly like the one Bucky would have owned

the yellowing pages, hardback cover, faded title

used, loved, a timeless piece of history

sure the pages were slightly ripped, it had very obviously been well loved but still preserved

as she looked through the pages, she smiles at the pencil marks - whoever had this book must have loved it

the only issue was the price

"$200?! I can't persuade you to lower that?"

"It's a rare collectable my dear, if you don't get it now, someone else will."

Alpine had the money

she had savings for rainy days and emergency funds just in case the worst happened

again, she wasn't stupid

but $200 on a book?

she sighed once again, flicking through the pages

could she really justify spend-

hold on a hot damn second

was that

she frowns, looking at the faded hand written ink

"Sorry, can I borrow your glasses?"

the old bookstore owner nods, allowing the girl to use the glasses to look at the name handwritten on the cover page

'PROPERTY OF James Buchanan Barnes'

Alpine had never handed money over so fast

out of all the first edition books to get, she had managed to somehow find Bucky's copy

it belonged to him and she would have sold her entire soul to the devil just to be able to get that man his own property back

she had to get back to him

father's day was in a couple of days but this discovery could not wait and if Bucky Barnes had his door locked still then Alpine was grabbing the emergency axe in the hall way to smash that mans door down

she never ran faster in her life

that was a lie (but a story for another time)

by this point, it had been a fair few hours.

Sam had been and gone, having knocked some sense into Bucky before leaving to report that he had in fact NOT relapsed into the Winter Soldier

Now, the grumpy old man waited outside his apartment for Alpine to get back, sighing and huffing with every minute that passed, pacing back and forth, watching the elevator move between floors

he had heard the door to the stairs slam open, the panting and gasping before the rapid footsteps and a frantic

"BUCKY!"

He turned, running down the hallway and crashing into the young girl, grabbing her and stabling them as he hugged her

"Al, I'm so sorry kid. I can't explain what happened, but I promise I will never-"

"Bucky shut up and listen to me."

fucking

rude

he frowns at her, like the fucking audacity

"I'm trying to apologise for being a jackass here."

"Oh, well in that case- carry on mr i'm going to ignore my best friend in the entire world."

"I heard you crying-"

"Oh fucking ew never mind."

he sighs, grabbing her face gently in his hands as she tries to full away because ew fucking emotions

he smiles at her, watching as she relaxes, confusion on her face before her breathe hitches when he places a gentle and very hesitant kiss on her head

"Al, I can't promise that something like that will never happen again, because my brain is messed up, I'm messed up" He shushes her when she tries to interrupt him, smiling at her

"But, I can promise, that as soon as I come out of that.. place.. I will make it up to you in every way possible. You, my annoying little neighbour, are one of the best things that's ever happened to me and I'll be damned if i ever make you cry again. If I do, you can beat me to a pulp."

they both laugh because Alpine can't fight for shit

she wouldn't even know where to start

"Can I make you watch Real Housewives instead?"

"Anything you want."

They definitely spend about ten minutes just hugging each other

they spent two whole days apart, these touch starved babies are desperate just to know that they still have each other

Eventually, they move to Bucky's apartment, deciding that they deserved a good movie night and they still had to watch the Jurassic Park and Jurassic World franchise (they'd been putting it off for a few weeks because Bucky wasn't convinced that a movie on dinosaurs would be something he was interested in - but Alpine seemed to enjoy it_

Alpine had managed to get distracted by the dinos, laughing and letting Bucky know of the inaccuracies of the franchise

Bucky had managed to calm down, keeping an arm around Alpine, not wanting to let her go just yet, still feeling awful about having made her cry

it wasn't until Bucky mentioned that he did enjoy the fantasy side of the franchise that Alpine gasped and sat up straight from leaning on Bucky

he frowns and watched her as she runs to her bag dumped by the door

he was going to her a coat rack just so she'd stop dumping her coat and bags on the floor as soon as she got in

"Were you in here, when I spoke to you through the door?"

Bucky glances at her

"Depends, do you want me to have been here?"

Alpine thinks back and then nods, "For the last part"

Bucky grins, "Bucky Barnes ain't no ones bitch?"

Alpine grins back, "Bucky Barnes is his own bitch, with his own bitchin' thoughts and his own personality and likes and dislikes'" she nods firmly grabbing the book from her bag

"And, Bucky Barnes, has his own goddamn property back."

she holds it out to him and he pauses, eyebrows furrowed before he takes the book

"Al, you didn't have to-"

"Shut up, and open it. Cover page."

he does and he freezes

this was the book he had shipped over from Britain when it first came out

this was the book that he read at night

this was the book he reread for months

this was the book he left behind when he was sent over to Britain for active duty

this was HIS book

his past

his memories

his handwriting

it had survived all these years

it had survived and somehow so had he

and as he looks at Alpine, who was nervously ranting about how she just saw it and knew he had to have it back, how it was a father's day present albeit early

he knew he was going to be okay, just as she had said

If a piece of his past had managed to survive this long without being put on display in a glass case in a museum, without being caged or made to do something other than it's purpose

then he can continue to heal outside of influence of third parties

she's still ranting as he stands, making his way over to her and wrapping her in his arms, holding her tightly, his flesh hand delicately running through her hair as his tears build

he forces them back, not wanting to panic his neighbour turned daughter

he feels her arms hesitantly wrap around his waist, though she's still tense

one day he'll find out why, he'll find out her real name and he'll help her heal like she had him (more than she would ever truly know)

but for now, he'll cherish the relationship he shares with Alpine, and he'll celebrate every father's day with her, with no worries on whether or not he deserves to have this

because one thing is for sure

Alpine does not care whether or not Bucky Barnes deserves her affection, she want's to give it and that's what she will do. Whether he likes it or not (spoiler alert - he loves it and he loves her)

"So if we could spend next years father's day not in a maybe kind of argument that would be great, because this was a really emotionally exhausting day and I don't think we need to do this type of thing for a hot while."

"Of course. If Sam asks, Father's day was better than mother's day."

"Sure, sure, so long as you say I found that book in a dump because i spent maybe $30 on Sam and $200 is a lot more."

Bucky laughs and nods before processing her words

"$200?!"

and as Bucky tightened their hug and Alpine started nervously laughing and trying to get away from him to avoid this punishment (is it really though?)

neither one of them would rather be anywhere else

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hey there! So, this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr so sorry if it doesn't make sense but could I request giyu,igouro, sanemi and rengoku x reader, thats platonic so like the reader is a kid. and the reader is non-verbal but the reader chooses who they talk to and who they don't, so how would they react to when the reader brings up enough courage to talk to them? (Also if you can could the reader use sign language when they don't speak? Sorry for the big ask)

Also English isn't my first language so sorry for any spelling errors or mis-wording of anything.

Four is a lot, honey. I hope you don’t mind me cutting it down to three but yes, I can do this. Selectively mute and sign-language using! Can do!

Shinazugawa Sanemi

By the tug of his haori, Sanemi turns around to look at you from the battered test dummy he was practicing Wind Breathing on. His deep frown softened at the sight of your glowing life-filled eyes and he drops down to his knees to hear you out. You’re his little assistant, who has never spoken a single word, even after he took you in so he learnt sign language under the permission you were mute

“Yes, Dokusha?” Sanemi asks softly, tilting his head in contrast to his usual hyper-aggressive and temperamental aura. He is very gentle with you, due to how much he adores you. Today, you finally wanted to say something to him since you trust him fully and you felt guilty about hiding your voice from him, he deserves to hear what you want to say

What did he do to deserve to be lied to? Nothing, he is the reason you have a house and food right now, he basically rescued you from hell and decided to take you in for you doing stuff around his Estate. Sanemi is thankful to past him for making the right choice, he has learnt how to control himself better and he feels less lonely. He can rant and complain about annoying slayers to you all he wants and feel heard with the way you nod with a beam

You smile softly at your caretaker, grabbing his free thick sweaty hand whilst he kept his eyes on you and held yours back. He was a bit concerned that something was wrong but relief flooded him when a sudden wave of confidence washed over you, allowing you to speak: “You… you… haven’t ate, have you…?” His hand clutched around nothing at what he heard

Sanemi’s dark purple eyes widened in shock at actually hearing your voice and his katana dropped to the floor as he started stuttering in shock. You have never said a verbal word with him for all the months you’ve been with him and he genuinely thought you couldn’t speak as you always used sign language. That didn’t mean he wasn’t beyond happy that you felt comfortable talking to him, a loving smile spread

It was hot and sunny, concerning you that he could tire himself out with heatstroke or sunburns. Yes, he is the Wind Hashira and he does this type of training constantly but your care for him has grown. You find yourself comparing him to a older brother or a father a lot more often than you think. Actually, maybe more like a parent, though you two talk like you’re past best friends. He is favouritistic towards who he likes you and happen to be one of those rare people

“No. I haven’t, disappointingly. B-but that’s fine, we can eat together”

Tomioka Giyuu

Besides your beloved caretaker, Giyuu, you noticed a gorgeous silky kimono in your favourite colour hanging up by a thin string over the head of the storekeeper. Whilst you and Giyuu were within the crowd of loud people and passing the many makeshift fleet market stands, you could see it as clear as day and you found your heart pinging in desire, the longer you kept your glowing eyes on it. You wanted to tell the taller, bigger man but you didn’t have the gut…

With all the blaring people wondering around you two, you nor Giyuu wanted to talk in this rather intimidating environment, even to each other, as neither of you are good at socialising in such a public way. Giyuu did actually owe you a gift for taking the time out of your night to fix up his dull katana to perfection, but he had no clue what to give you and he is stubborn so you can’t try convince him otherwise

With that kimono in your mind, you tap your fingers on his wrist to try catch his attention. A tough flinch runs through his skin as he carefully looks down to his side, seeing you still right next to him and feeling such relief flooding his senses. With the lack of touch, he was a bit worried that he lost you within this monstrous crowd and he didn’t know how he’d function without the beloved little assistant he rescued and cares for

The one who understands him the most out of everything on this entire planet. He looked around for any stranglers that may past you two and dropped down, you two hadn’t walked that far from the kimono stand and the one stealing away your attention basically danced in the wind, beckoning you to come over to it. Giyuu’s pretty blue eyes trained onto you as he mentally prepared himself to adapt to the sign language you were bound to use but it didn’t come, confusing him intently that it slipped past his usual emotionless demeanour

Pointing at the stand in your mind, allowing Giyuu to follow your movements and partly-understand what was bothering you. You opened your lips slowly and let out the voice you thought you lost years ago as he flinched this time in shock at what he heard. “C-can… can I have that kimono…” You ask lightly, hands still on his as his eyes almost dissolved into a lighter blue at his amazement. You can speak?!

Despite how comfortable you claimed you felt with him, you never said a single word to him. Sure, he doesn’t need words to feel close and connected to you but he figured you were mute so he kept his trap close for you. He did feel a bit betrayed that you didn’t signal a word sooner but he could understand your hesitation, you could have been worried that he would be mad at you but he couldn’t be mad at you. He smiles ever-so-gently and rises to his feet, looking at that stand

“You want a kimono? Well, you do need some new ones”

Rengoku Kyojuro

Kyojuro’s cheerful smile never faded, repositioning the wooden staff inside his little brother’s hands and lifting his arms up to show him the more effective swing. On a bright, sunny day, the Flame Hashira was attempting to teach his little brother, Senjuro how to use breathing techniques so he can continue on the Rengoku legacy after his brother eventually goes to pass the torch. In the back, you waited patiently for your caretaker to come to you

You had something important to… well, tell him and this time not through your fingers. For the entire time you’ve been with Kyojuro, you never said a single verbal word to him nor anybody else so it lead him to simply assume you were mute. He spent hours perfecting sign language for you, his cute little assistant so he can still talk to you

Kyojuro eventually turned around after minutes or so of patience, meeting your eyes with his eccentric flame-patterned ones and shook his head in realisation he had been keeping you waiting. Quickly alerting Senjuro, he basically glides to you with such smooth strides and playfully pats your head with a open apology. He hated keep the one he adored on the edge for so long

“Sorry, little flame. What is it you need?” The young man asks, preparing his hands to calculate your signing but nothing he suspected happened, you mirrored his wholehearted smile and grabbed his much bigger hands, cupping them in yours as you managed to push out your unaided vocal cords to speak. You trusted him entirely to say your piece to him, like he deserved

“Do… do you have the refreshments for… Senjuro?” You responded in a semi-faint tone, almost weirded out by the sound of your own voice but you felt the complete need to show your beloved caretaker the truth. Lying to him for so long was a painful process but now, you’re free from those shackles as Kyojuro flinched visibly, feeling shock course through him. You can speak?! Since when, he genuinely thought you had no voicebox. He hasn’t even heard you grunt or huff

His smile widened at the words he heard, he is very happy you feel comfortable enough to talk to him as he chirps, propping himself up the elevated wooden platform of his Estate. He doesn’t bother trying to pull his hand from yours as you follow his skilful movements. Kyojuro can’t say that he loves you like a father does but he is glad he rescued you

“Not at the moment, but let’s go get some right now!”

[moonstrider9904]

Hi Moon! Congratulations on 1300 followers! 🥰 The love letters for the celebration is such a good idea. If you don't mind, I'd like to request one!

I'd like my letter to be from Commander Cody.

I'm a very shy/quiet/reserved/introverted person, so I'd imagine the relationship would be pretty slow burn-y and built around mutual trust—I feel like we'd have to be friends first before venturing into romantic territory. I'm also not sure where else I'd logically meet Cody (or any clone for that matter) other than 79's 😅 which is ironic because (a) realistically, 79's would be WAY out of my comfort zone and (b) since he's always busy being a marshal commander, I doubt Cody would have a ton of time to visit 79's. So meeting him there would be pure luck/chance!

Cody would definitely be able to make me laugh a lot with his dry humor! Which I love because I need that in my life 😅

I love the relationship dynamic where two people are each other's "safe person"—the person you look for in a crowded room, save seats for at a dinner table, talk to about anything and everything, ask advice and help from, and always feel comfortable around, no matter where you are in the galaxy. Someone you think of as an equal and a best friend. That with Cody is my literal dream 😩

I think Cody would enjoy pretty relaxing activities after being on the front all the time. Stuff like going on walks/runs together, cooking together, watching TV/movies and reading books, playing card games and other strategy-centered games, etc. I just want my guy to chill whenever he has the opportunity to!

Physical traits: I'm pretty tall (5'10") with slender build, and I have dirty blonde hair cut just below my shoulders and hazel eyes. Personality traits: I'm someone who takes my schoolwork seriously, I like helping people, I like making people laugh, I'm practical, and I go with the flow (little bit of a people-pleaser 😅). My MBTI type is INFJ-T, if that helps at all!

It's up to you whether or not to add NSFW/suggestive themes! I don't care either way. I prefer subtlety when it comes to that kind of stuff and I'm definitely not a PDA person (I don't think Cody would be either). Surprise me! 😌

Sorry if that was too detailed 😅 Thank you so much for doing this, and congratulations again!

@starstofillmydream Hi there! Thank you for sharing all this. I personally had a lot of feels while writing this one. I really hope I did you justice and that you like this little love letter from Cody - I imagine him being so romantic and gentlemanly, like a knight of some sorts. ✨

Moon's 1300 follower celebration - a love letter from your man

My dearest Molly,

I just wish I could be by your side. This siege threatens to take everything that's left within me, and I just need your comfort, your voice, your presence. I see you every time I lead my men into battle, and I hear you in my mind on every cold night before I can get some shut eye. I miss you, my darling, but it comforts me to know that my fighting will make the galaxy safer and brighter for you. For both of us.

Some days, I ponder on our past, and if I haven't told you before, a part of me wishes I'd told you I loved you sooner. I wouldn't change our story, but right about now, some extra time with you seems like heaven. Because you are that for me, you know? You're everything I want to return to. And I hope you keep this letter close and reread these words, as much as I will replay you saying them in my mind with every sunrise: I love you. I love you so much. Soon we'll be in each other's arms again, my dear, and that's a promise.

By the next time I see you, we'll probably have spent months apart. I'll understand if you want to make it a special occasion, and by all means, take the lead on any plans you want to make. You know my tastes are simple, and all I really need is to be there next to you. Besides, I want it to be memorable for you. As long as we're together and I can hear your beautiful laugh while gazing into your hazel eyes, that will be enough for me.

But I must go again now. I'll let you know where I land after this siege, and as soon as I know when I'll go home, you will be the first to know.

Ever yours,

Cody

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

random updates

life has been, and continues to be hectic lately and I feel somewhat bad that I'm not posting on here very frequently. debating the idea of putting a queue together just because?

Also since finishing and posting chapter 4 of Joel x therapist! reader, I've been feeling very unmotivated to write in general. I know it shouldn't make me feel crappy and get me down but it does. I'm not a writer by any means and I don't give a shit about the number of notes or engagement that my writing gets, but it just feels like it takes a lot of dedicated energy to sit down and get the words out. Once the words are flowing though? no problem at all lol.

I have started working on a Frankie fic that has been rotting inside my brain for the past 3 weeks, and I'm excited about that. But again, sitting down to actually get some writing done is a challenge UGH. I feel like I have no right to complain cause I'm not working right now and I don't have lots of other stuff going on.

Amongst other life stuff, my mom has made it past her second round of chemo treatment and her third is coming up in the beginning of july. It's been really rough on her but she's taking it one day at a time and I'm trying to support her while also taking care of myself.

I did an interview for the student placement I'll be doing during my grad school program starting in September. It will be at a private therapy practice located at a farm that does equine assisted therapy which is so exciting 🙌🏽. I'll be taking on a small caseload of clients, shadowing psychologists and other mental health professionals and running equine therapy sessions while I'm there! It honestly seems too good to be true, I can't wait to start school at this point.

I also got a tattoo! My first tattoo, and I fucking love it. I'll post a picture here or maybe do a separate post for it. It's still healing but I'm so glad I got it.

I wondered what people might think if I was open to taking writing requests for drabbles or oneshots for Pedro characters? I want to write more for other beloved Pedro boys and I feel like it might be easier to get my creative juices flowing if I have a direct prompt to work with. Let me know.

And as always thank you to my fucking amazing mutuals who keep me sane on this site, I'm sorry if I don't respond to messages or disappear from time to time. I love you all more than you know, and I thank you for engaging with me at all ❤️

nicole 🌹

tattoo below

this is a not so great pic but maybe I'll post better ones later. here it is! I love it so so so incredibly much, it's exactly what I wanted. Yes, I am a scorpio lol. So much shit has happened in my life within the last 6 months that I feel like it's brought a period of transformation, trusting my intuition, and sticking true to my goals and the things that make me happy. 🦂❤️

[hamelott]

Can you write something where Ezekiel has nightmares and ends up super sleep deprived and Eve has to mom him?

okay so I think we both know how many apologies I owe you, but let’s just get past that and get right to the fic, yeah? 

Please enjoy :)

Eve noticed it the day after theirfirst mission since Apep. Ezekiel looked exhausted, and she wasn’t entirelysure it was just because of the stressful few days they’d just endured either.He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his usual wit was nearly nonexistent.At one point, Stone had taken a particularly clever jab at him, but Ezekiel hadjust frowned and not said anything.

At the time, she’d brushed it asideas an off-day. Even Ezekiel Jones could be down in the dumps occasionally. Shereally wasn’t worried. He’d get out of this whateverit was mood and then he’d be fine, no worries. Her team would be in tip-topshape in no time.

Except, then it got worse. Ezekielkept showing up to the Library later and later, and each time he’d look evenmore tired than the day before. He no longer took care of his hair, and hisvoice lacked its usual bright tone and slyness. To say Eve was worried would bean understatement.

Knowing going directly to the sourcewould get her nowhere, Eve decided to do some ‘around the edges’ investigating.She asked Cassandra and Jenkins if either of them had noticed something up withEzekiel. They’d both nodded and expressed their own worry for him, but neitherhad a definitive answer as to what could possibly be going on. It wasn’t untilshe talked to Stone that she started getting somewhere.

“So,” she tried asking as casuallyas possible. She and Stone were sparring. He was sweaty and out of breath; she,of course, was fine. “Noticed anything up with Jones recently?”

Stone’s left jab faltered so badthat, had Eve wanted to, she could’ve easily broken his wrist with a quick graband twist. He backed away from her a little bit. His mouth was a stern frown,but his eyes betrayed him. He looked worried, but he also looked like he washiding a secret.

“Uh, no,” he said quickly. He shookhis head swiftly. “Not much. Why do you ask?”

“You know, Stone,” Eve said, gettinga solid kick to his chest, “for a man who created multiple identities forhimself, you’re a terrible liar.”

“I’ve been told,” Stone grumbled. Heducked away from a right hook from Eve and took a few more steps back. “Look,it’s nothing.”

“It’s nothing?” Eve repeatedskeptically. “Or you’ve been told to tell everybody else that it’s nothing?”

Stone sighed and stopped moving. Hecrossed his arms over his chest, and Eve gave him a sharp look. “Alright,alright, but I’m warnin’ you now, he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. I tried mybest, but he won’t listen to me.”

“C’mon, Stone,” Eve said. “Tell me whatyou know.”

~~~

Eve found Ezekiel an hour laterslumped over a table, eyes staring listlessly at his phone. She walked up,grabbed him by the back of the shirt, and pulled him into a standing position,ignoring his loud squawk of surprise.

“Baird, what the hell!?” he said asshe started dragging him through the Library.

Eve didn’t say anything and keptdragging him until they reached a room. She opened the door and pushed him in,guiding him towards the single, twin bed that sat in there. She sat him downand walked back to the door, but, instead of walking out, she stood in thedoorway, grabbed her gun, and leant against the doorframe. Over her shouldershe said, “Sleep.”

“So, Jake told you about thenightmares,” Ezekiel said with a sigh, seemingly unsurprised. He got to hisfeet, beginning to step towards the doorway. “Look, Baird, you don’t need toworry about it. I’m fine, don’t-.”

Eve’s head snapping around to look athim stopped him in his tracks. She nodded towards the bed. “I wasn’t kidding.Sleep. I’ll keep watch over you.”

“You really, really don’t have to do that, Baird,” Ezekiel protested.

“Ezekiel Jones if you don’t sit yourass in that bed right this minute and get some sleep, I will get Stone down here and have him bearhug you to the bed,” Evesaid, and Ezekiel could see she was not joking.

He let out a long breath and satback down on the bed. It was a supercomfy mattress…and Eve with her gun and glares did make him feel pretty safe.Maybe he could get some good sleep for once.

He rolled his eyes to himself andgot underneath the covers. He huffed out, “Wanna check for monsters under mybed?”

He could hear Eve’s smirk when shesaid, “Already did.”

“Gonna tuck me in too?” Ezekielasked. And, despite his annoyed tone, he had a small smile on his face.

“I will if you want me too,” Evesaid, voice teasing.

It only took two minutes before she heard Ezekiel’s muffledsnores and smiled softly to herself.

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

[rubysunnday]

stupid in love

request by anon: hey congrats for 2.6k followers, that's so cool!!! I don't know if i'm too late but can i request jesper from shadow and bone x reader with prompt 5? would love for it to be romantic :) congrats again and thank you if you decide to write it!! <3

A/N: is this romantic? no idea but I've been writing this for like a month and I'm beyond done with it so have whatever the fuck this is

warnings: six of crows stuff, blood, swearing, alludes to suicide throughout

"I threw myself out a window for you! What more do you want from me?"

Y/N almost punched him. Him throwing himself out the window was the entire reason she was annoyed at him. It had been terrifying and Y/N had thought Jesper was dead. But Jesper had taken it as another fable to tell the punters - hadn't realised how lucky he was. Y/N glowered at Jesper from across the bar as she poured him another shot.

"Maybe for you to actually pay for these shots?" Y/N asked, sliding the shot glass along the bar top to Jesper.

Jesper picked it up and downed it with one smooth movement. "Ah, it's fine, put it on my tab."

Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged, scribbling down the rapidly growing cost of Jesper's evening. He'd actually only had three shots - the rest had been spread around the entire club in celebration of something or other.

Their last job had been chaotic as usual. Jesper had thrown himself out a window, Kaz had almost gotten shot and they'd blown a few things up. But the image of Jesper falling through a window had stuck with Y/N all night.

The entire reason Y/N had ended up in the Dregs was because of her sister. Her sister, who had gone insane, and leapt off a roof, plummeting to her death in front of Y/N. Every time Y/N relived Jesper falling, she saw him in her sister's place. She saw his body instead of hers.

Which was why, Jesper making jokes about his window-smashing exploits wasn't appreciated at that moment.

"'ello, Y/N," Rotty said jogging up to the bar with a beaming smile, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Evening, Rotty," Y/N called, setting the cleaned glasses on the side. "What can I do for you?"

"Boss wants you," Rotty replied. He gestured over his shoulder at Jesper who was singing a rowdy sea shanty with an arm around a red-haired woman who looked like an actual mermaid. "And him."

"Have you told him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said 'in a moment'."

"Oh for -" Y/N bought her fingers to her lips and whistled. Loudly.

The entire bar fell silent and everyone turned to stare at her. She pointed at Jesper and then up at Kaz's office door.

"You, upstairs, now," Y/N demanded.

Jesper sighed, grumbling to himself as he slid off the redhead's lap and practically stomped after Y/N as she walked up the stairs.

She paused at the top and looked down at the still silent bar. "Carry on."

The chatter and sound of money being lost quickly restarted. Y/N shut the office door behind her, the noise from downstairs all but disappearing behind the thick, iron door.

Inej was, unsurprisingly, already there. She stood near to Kaz, her hands clasped behind her back with her hood up. As Y/N approached Kaz, he looked up at her and then at Jesper who'd flopped down in a plush armchair near the window.

"Is he drunk?"

"No," Y/N replied, sitting down in the chair Kaz had in front of his desk and crossing her legs. She fanned out her skirt and clasped her hands together in her lap. "He bought shots for everyone in the club but he's only had three."

"Good, I need him sober," Kaz replied. He gave Jesper a cursory glance over his shoulder. "Jesper, come here."

Jesper stood up and skulked over to the desk, leaning over Y/N's head to see what was on the desk. "Is that -"

"Yes."

"And are we -"

"Yes."

Y/N frowned and sat forward, looking at the plans laid out on Kaz's desk. She raised her eyebrows. "The Geldrenner Hotel? Really? What's there."

"You mean who is there," Kaz corrected. He handed Y/N a newspaper cut out featuring a grainy print of a member of the Merchant Council.

"Is that Van Halla?" Y/N asked, squinting at the print. "Isn't he meant to be in Os Alta?"

"He's on holiday and is staying at the Geldrenner with his wife and entourage or fifty," Kaz replied. "And whilst he is here, he's attending the extravagant birthday of Van Eck."

"Oh, I see where this is going," Y/N said, nodding. "I saw the Van Eck birthday present list - what did Halla get?"

"The Millenium Watch."

Three pairs of eyes looked at Kaz with surprise and shock.

"I'm sorry, you want us to steal the Millenium Watch?" Jesper asked, gaping. "One of the most expensive watches in history?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I need a new pocket watch," Kaz said with a shrug.

"And the real reason?" Inej asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I've made a deal with someone - in exchange for the Millenium Watch we get the plans to the Boeksplein."

"And what's there?"

"Need to know."

The three of them scoffed but weren't entirely surprised.

"Now, are you done interrogating me?" Kaz asked. "Because I would like to get on with the job."

'So, here's the plan.'

The hotel was ridiculous grand for the streets of Ketterdam. Granted, it did sit in the middle of the Financial District and was within view of the Stadwatch barracks to avoid any burglaries, heists or assassinations.

It was strictly reserved for the rich and wealthy and the majority of Ketterdam knew they would never be privileged enough to see inside the marbled walls.

And up until now, Y/N had thought herself one of those people.

'Jesper, Y/N, you two will go in disguised as staff. Inej will be on the roof and sneak in through the skylight.'

'And what about you, Kaz?"

"I, darling, Y/N, will be causing a distraction.'

"What do you mean there's no reservation for me?!"

Y/N looked up from the bin she was emptying. Kaz was standing at the front desk, dressed in a - quite frankly ridiculous - outfit, waving his arms around and swearing. A lot. Y/N glanced over at Jesper, a smile pulling on her lips. "I take it that that's the distraction," she whispered.

As Kaz continued to flap his arms like a bird, Y/N and Jesper headed over to the hand-operated elevator. The two of them nodded at the elevator operator.

"Seventh floor, please," Jesper said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Oh, oh, wait, please!"

A woman, dressed in the ridiculous fashions of the wealthy, bustled into the elevator, dragging about eight different cases and hat boxes with her.

"You," she said, snapping her fingers at Jesper, "take these up to my room - number 754b." The woman turned to Y/N. "Be a dear and take these."

Before Y/N could protest, a black, leather briefcase was pushed into her arms as Jesper was pushed out the door. The elevator operator sighed and began working the elevator up to floor 7.

"I like your dress, ma'am," Y/N said, attempting to break the awkward elevator music.

"Oh, aren't you a dear!" The women cooed. "My husband - Van Halla - bought it for me."

Y/N almost dropped the briefcase.

'What floor is Van Halla staying on?'

'Seventh floor, room 54b, Inej. It's the penthouse and the only room with a skylight.'

'Which is how Inej is getting in. But how are we getting out?'

'Front door, Y/N. If this goes to plan, we'll walk out that hotel through the front door with the watch.'

'And if something goes wrong?'

'Well, then, Jesper, I guess you'd better get acquainted with Hellgate.'

The elevator trundled up to the seventh floor and Y/N traipsed after the woman - who was, apparently, Van Halla's wife - to the penthouse.

As Y/N stepped into the penthouse, one thing went through her mind.

Money does not buy you taste.

And that was coming from someone who lived in the Slat which was, to be fair, held up by sheer terror at what Kaz may do should it collapse.

"Just leave the bags in the bedroom, darling," the woman called, waving a hand to the right.

Y/N hovered awkwardly for a moment, trying to work out where exactly in the cavernous, garishly white and orange room she was pointing to. Eventually, Y/N spotted a double door - bright orange like the cushions on the sofa - and assumed that was the bedroom.

She opened the doors and almost dropped the bags.

The 'bedroom' was bigger than her room. In fact, it was probably bigger than her room, Jesper's room, Kaz's room and Inej's room combined.

"Damn," Y/N muttered, her eyes wide. "What it is to have money, huh?"

Y/N dumped the bags on the floor near the wardrobe and turned to go when a small, black velvet box sat on a table. She paused.

"Do you want me to unpack the bags, ma'am?" Y/N called, quietly approaching the table, trying to get a closer look at the engraved plaque on the top of the box.

"No, no, you're fine!"

Y/N stood in front of the table, her heart pounding. Happy birthday, Van Eck was engraved on the top of the box. Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out an identical box.

'So, we switch the boxes?'

'Thanks to Jesper's hidden talent - no need to roll your eyes, Jesper - we have an exact replica of the watch. Minus a few details, obviously, drawings and sketches only give so much detail.'

'And if we get caught with the watch? Because either way, they'll know something's up.'

'Best not to get caught then, Y/N. However, if for whatever someone isn't at the rendevous, we'll plan something.'

'So reassuring, Kaz.'

'Oh, good, I'm glad, I was concerned I my tone wasn't coming across.'

Y/N glanced out into the main room of the penthouse and quickly switched the boxes, making sure the fake was in the exact same position as the original. She slipped the original into her pocket and stepped out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"If that's all then, ma'am," Y/N said, bowing to the woman.

"Yes, yes, thank you," she said, nodding.

Y/N headed towards the front door when it swung open and a large man, with a red face and a huge moustache, stormed in.

"Excuse me, sir," Y/N said, pressing herself to the wall as he marched past.

The man barely looked at her - he just sniffed.

"Victoria! Why did you not wait for me?" He called.

"You were busy having a go at some man, darling," the woman - Victoria - replied. "Feel better for yelling?"

"Oh, wife, you know me too well."

Y/N quickly left the room before Van Halla started kissing his wife. They were only some things she could cope with.

With the watch secure in her pocket, Y/N made her way back down to the elevator. She spotted Jesper on her way - struggling with the numerous bags Van Halla had apparently abandoned.

Y/N whistled at him and gestured her head, tapping her wrist. Jesper dropped the bags - Y/N was certain she heard something smash - and jogged up to her side.

"You got it?"

"It was surprisingly easy," Y/N whispered as they headed to the elevator. "It was lying there."

The music in the elevator played joyfully as they rode down - Y/N was trying not to bop to the light plinking piano music.

'So, once we've got the watch. How do we get out?'

'No need to point between you and Jesper, Y/N, I knew who you meant. You two will go out the servant's entrance here and meet Inej and I where the carriages are stored.'

'And if things go to shit?'

'Luckily for you, Jesper, I have plans ranging from A all the way to T.'

'What happens if we get to S? Damn, Kaz, no need to glare at me like that, Saints. You could set me on fire!'

'Shut up, Y/N.'

"Never, boss.'

The servant's entrance was quiet and empty which was a blessing for Jesper and Y/N - especially since Y/N could feel the watch box beginning to metaphorically burn a hole in her coat.

A guard was sat in the chair by the door, intently reading a book. He looked up as they approached and smiled.

"Ah, hello!" He said, standing up. "Right, let's do this quickly, shall we? I'm at a good point in my book. So, you know and I know this but I have to state it again for rules - I have to search you as you come in and out the building since we have numerous Merchants staying here. We don't want anything expensive to get stolen since we can't afford a lawsuit!" He clapped his hands. "So, which one of you wants to get searched first?"

Y/N and Jesper shared a look.

"I'll go first," Y/N volunteered, stepping forward and holding her arms out.

The guard patted her down, humming joyfully as he did so. "Perfect! And you, sir?"

Jesper stepped forward but tripped over the leg of the chair, knocking the chair over and jogging the table and knocking a vase over.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Jesper exclaimed, kneeling down to pick up the vase.

"Oh, it's fine, I do it all the time," the guard said, smiling. "Anyhoo."

Jesper set the vase on the table and lifted his arms. "You know, this isn't usually how I like to begin."

The guard looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, smiling. "No?"

"No. I prefer a more intimate setting."

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed. She cleared her throat pointedly and Jesper winked at the guard, stepping aside.

"Seriously?" Y/N hissed as they walked down the side street to the garage at the back.

"It worked, didn't it?" Jesper replied.

"Oi!"

Jesper turned with a smile on his face, fully expecting it to be the previous guard. Except it wasn't. A sterner looking guard was marching towards them both with a glare in his eyes.

"The idiot back there forgot to ask for your papers," he snapped. "Papers. Now."

'What happens if we need papers to get in and out?'

'I've thought about that.'

'And?'

'Well, best get running. And try to avoid bullets.'

'Why did I expect anything else from you, Kaz?'

Jesper's hand brushed against Y/N's as he stepped forward, communicating silently the plan.

Which consisted of nothing more than run.

"We forgot our papers," YN said smoothly.

The guard raised his eyebrows. "Well, then I can't let you leave until I've contacted your supervisor. You'll have to come with me."

As the man reached out to grab Y/N's wrist, she grabbed his arm, and using all her strength, flipped him over her back and into the floor.

"Go!" Y/N yelled, shoving Jesper up the hill as she ran down it.

Y/N leapt over the guard and ran down the street, the steep gradient speeding her up. The garage was at the other end of the street - up the hill where Jesper had gone - but Y/N knew the guard would be chasing after her.

For a moment, all Y/N could hear was her pounding heartbeat, her vision bouncing up and down as she ran. And then a gunshot cracked out.

Y/N stumbled forward and then darted to the right, hiding in a bush in someone's garden as she panted. She kept quiet as she heard the guard stop right in front of her bush. Y/N didn't allow herself to relax until the guard swore loudly and jogged back up the hill.

Y/N leant her head back against the wall behind her and felt tears well in her eyes as she pressed a hand to her stomach. The bullet had gone through her back and out through her stomach. There was so much blood and the pain was overwhelming - almost blinding.

But, Y/N forced herself out of the bush and to her feet. There was a back alley with a set of stairs leading up to the garage - a very steep set of stairs, mind.

Step by step, Y/N climbed up the stairs, tightly holding onto the handrail as she climbed. Thankfully, the row of expensive-looking carriages was at the top of the stairs and Y/N's knees nearly buckled with relief when she saw the familiar slim shape of Inej.

"Inej," Y/N gasped, falling forwards onto her knees.

Inej ran over to Y/N, her feet silent on the cobbles. She knelt down next to her and held Y/N up with a hand on her uninjured side. "What happened?"

"Oh, turns out we need papers to get out," Y/N grunted, hissing with pain as Inej pressed a black handkerchief - that looked suspiciously like the one Kaz carried - against her front wound.

"Where's Jesper?"

"No idea. Where's Kaz?"

"No idea."

"Excellent, at least we're on the same - ow - page," Y/N inhaled sharply, her hand flying to grab Inej's arm as a wave of pain tossed her into a rock. "Saints."

"It went straight through, thankfully, so I think if we stitch it when we get back and keep it clean -"

"I'll live to get shot another day?" Y/N quipped, smiling despite the sheer amount of pain she was in. "I hope one of them appears with a carriage soon."

Inej kept a steady hand on Y/N's side, keeping her propped up on her knees as she tied a scarf around her waist, covering both wounds.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, her head resting against Inej's shoulder.

"For what?" Inej asked, frowning. "For saving your life? Again? Because I'd do that even if you'd pissed me off."

A breath of laughter escaped Y/N's lips as she lifted her head. "No. Just for being here. Jesper and I..."

"I know," Inej said quietly. "Does he know?"

"About what? About how I had to watch him fall out a third storey window, not knowing if he was alive or dead? To have to cope with the mental images I have of his broken, bleeding body lying in the streets only to be thrown onto the Reaper's Barge? To know that every time I close my eyes I see Jesper where my sister was? I see Jesper jumping off the roof and plummeting instead of her? I see him staring back at me with glassy eyes and a broken neck and bleeding and -"

"Ok, ok, calm down," Inej shushed, putting a hand on the back of Y/N's head. Y/N sobbed, burying her face into the crook of Inej's neck. She cried for her dead sister, for the fact Jesper was at times an oblivious idiot and for the fact her side really fucking hurt.

"Inej I just keep seeing him lying there," Y/N sobbed. "I know he's fine but I -"

"I know, Y/N, I know," Inej said softly, stroking her hair back. She gently took her face between her hands. "But he is not your sister. Ok? Now, come on we need to get you standing."

Y/N managed to get her feet underneath her and with help from Inej, she was soon standing up - albeit a bit wobbly. Inej kept a hand on Y/N's arm, the physical contact keeping them both going as they waited for Kaz and Jesper.

Not even a minute later, a carriage rolled down the street with Kaz and Jesper in the driver's seat.

"Don't tell Jesper," Y/N said suddenly, panic in her voice.

Inej nodded. "I won't."

Kaz's dark eyes looked Y/N up and down as Jespe halted the horses to a stop. "Trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Y/N replied, trying to hide her wince of pain as she tried to stand straighter.

"Inej?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. Kaz had quickly caught on to the fact she often downplayed her pain when injured, so he often asked literally anyone else.

"Through and through - she'll be fine if get back soon," Inej replied.

"Good, on you get."

Y/N climbed inside the carriage, sinking into the velvet green seat with a sigh of relief. Inej hovered by the open door before eventually coming to a decision.

"I'll be up front if you need me," she said softly, knowing that Y/N needed a moment alone.

Y/N had never been so grateful that Inej was her best friend. The carriage doors shut, and with the curtains pulled over the windows, it was blissfully dark. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed as best she could - she kept a hand tightly pressed over Inej's scarf and her wound.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until someone tapped her knee. Y/N jumped and opened her eyes to Jesper staring at her with eyes full of concern.

"You alright?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Y/N... why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not."

Jesper sat down opposite her as the carriage resumed moving. "You are. Ever since the last job you've been acting weird."

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry."

Jesper frowned. "Is this about the last job? Look, I didn't actually fall out a window for you..."

Jesper's words faded away as Y/N's mind was filled with the memory of Jesper falling. And then it wasn't Jesper it was her sister again. And then it was Inej. And even Kaz. Over and over again they were falling and falling and falling.

"Stop the carriage!"

The carriage had barely stopped before Y/N practically threw herself outside, her side screaming in protest at the sudden movement. She didn't give anyone a second glance as she moved off the open road and down into the hedgerow. There was a small river running through the field near them - one that leads into the Ketterdam canals - and Y/N fell to her knees on the banks of it, plunging her hands into the water.

Stupid, so, so stupid. It had been years since her sister had died and just when Y/N thought she'd moved on, Jesper pushed her back miles and miles.

Y/N leant forward, leaning on her hands as she stared down at the water, her knees getting wet as she knelt in the wet grass. She heard a twig snap and sighed. "I'm fine, Jesper, just leave me alone."

"Flattered that you thought I was Jesper, but alas," Kaz said, standing behind her.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Kaz. "Sorry, I'll be back in a minute."

Kaz was silent for a minute. "When the memory overwhelms you, find something to ground you. The feeling of something, the sound of something, even. It helps drown it out."

Y/N nodded, sniffing softly. She grunted as she got to her feet, her hand pressed to her side. A quick glance down and she saw red but not too much. "Sorry."

"Trauma doesn't apologise," Kaz said roughly, turning around and heading back up the hill. "So why should you?"

Y/N chuckled to herself. She spotted Jesper at the top of the hill, pacing nervously as Inej tried to calm him down. It took Y/N only a few seconds to decided what to do.

"Jesper, come here," Y/N called, waving him over.

He jogged over to her and his hands were instantly on her shoulders - almost as if he was holding her together. "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be, Jesper," Y/N said softly. She placed her hand over his and rubbed a circle on the back of his hand. "My sister went insane and jumped off a roof when I was fourteen. When I saw you fall out the window... I saw her. She landed in front of me and I stared at her dead, broken body, unable to comprehend what had happened. So, when you fell... I felt like I was fourteen again. And the fact you kept joking about it didn't help. It was nothing you did, Jesper. It's my own trauma rearing its head and wanting to take me down again. I just..."

"I understand," Jesper said softly, his eyes gentle and caring as he looked at her. "And I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Trauma doesn't apologise so why should we?"

Kaz, who was trying not to listen, smirked to himself. He tapped the side of the carriage with the head of his cane. "Come on, lovebirds, we need to move."

Y/N turned back to Jesper and smile, despite her heart aching. "All I ask, Jesper, is if you could maybe carry me back to the carriage because I really hurt right now."

Jesper laughed. "Of course I can, love."

[ttuesday]

Hiiiiii hru doing? I love your blog sm u stg I check it everyday keep up the amazing (you even inspired me to start writing for rdr)

Anyways Can I request how would the VDL boys act if say the O'Driscolls or lamyone raiders kidnapped their S/O who already has some past trauma?

Arthur

Arthur thought you would’ve been back by now. Usually whenever you go into town to buy supplies, you’re back in camp within the hour. He could sense something was off but it was when Kieran mentioned seeing O’Driscoll’s in the area did he realize what had happened.

On the inside, he’s very scared. You could be dead by now and that terrifies him. Arthur wastes no time, shouting across to Dutch that you’ve been taken as he runs to his horse.

After a quick shootout, he finds you locked in a small room. Thankfully they didn’t have much time to harm you but nonetheless Arthur fussed over you, checking you over and over again for any injuries.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his head in your hair as he mutters “Everything’s alright, I got you now and that’s all that matters”.

Dutch

When you didn’t return to camp, Dutch knew something was wrong. This isn’t the first time Colm has taken someone Dutch cares about, so he got a sort of hunch that they had grabbed you.

Within 5 minutes of initially getting this hunch, he gathers up some of the other fellers and they ride off to the O’Driscoll’s last known location.

Dutch doesn’t think about the worst case scenario. He forbids himself from even considering that possibility, mainly because he knows he’ll break down if he thinks of it.

After finally freeing you, Dutch tells you to ride with him. He brings you on a scenic route as the other fellers head straight back to camp. With remorse in his eyes, Dutch sighs “This shouldn’t have happened, I… I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you”.

Charles

Charles didn’t think too much about it when you weren’t back at your usual time. He knows you’re adventurous and that you like exploring so he thought that maybe you got side-tracked doing that.

But when Kieran mentioned it to him that O’Driscoll’s were nearby, Charles saw red. He was angry that he wasn’t there to protect you and that this had happened to you of all people.

He only takes a small handful of people with him on this rescue mission. John offered to go as an extra gun and Arthur wanted to go in the hopes of calming down Charles on the way there.

When Charles sees that you’re alive and thankfully not badly injured, all that anger turns to relief. “I won’t ever let this happen again,” he promises as he holds you close “I can’t let this happen again”.

Micah

Micah was subtly waiting for you to come back from the supplies run. He always acts like he doesn’t care but secretly he pays attention to stuff like this, especially when you’re involved.

When he overheard Kieran say he saw O’Driscoll’s... well shit, it’s a miracle Micah didn’t kill Kieran right there and then. He was furious that this had happened, blaming whoever he could (besides himself).

Micah didn’t care if the others followed him out to the O’Driscoll’s camp. He was in such a rage, the only thing he was focused on was killing anyone wearing green and finding you.

Micah’s still angry when he finds you. He breaths a sigh of relief but he instantly starts to berate you for not being careful enough. “You ain’t leaving my sight for a month after this, y’hear?” he scolds. Micah cares, he just doesn’t know how to show it.

Bill

It takes Bill a few seconds to comprehend what’s after happening. He hears Kieran telling him about the O’Driscoll’s being around but his brain doesn’t want to admit that you’ve been taken.

He’s scared shitless and if anything bad happens to you then Bill won’t be able to forgive himself. He yells at the others to hurry up as he quickly runs to Brown Jack.

As they shoot any O’Driscoll they see, Bill can feel his hands slightly tremble as he fears for the worst. You mean so much to him, if something happens to you, he doesn’t know how he’ll cope.

Bill doesn’t let you go when he finds you. “You ever go on another supply run, you come get me,” he says “hell, you even leave camp for a peaceful piss you best come get me”. Yep, he’s appointed himself to be your new bodyguard.

John

John was laid back when you mentioned you were doing a supply run by yourself. He knows you’re capable and good with a gun so he didn’t worry about it.

But when he realized O’Driscoll’s had taken you, he hated himself for being so relaxed about it. He hates that that might be the last conversation he ever has with you.

John wastes no time mounting his horse and galloping off. Some of the other fellers follow him but they can’t keep up with his speed.

After killing every O’Driscoll in sight and finding you, John feels his knees go weak as all of his anxiety fades away. “You really scared me for a second” he tries to smile though you can see a gleam in his eyes.

Javier

Javier is so goddamn determined to get you. Kieran hadn’t even finished his sentence about seeing the O’Driscoll’s and Javier was already sprinting towards the horses.

He doesn’t care how far he has to go to get you back, he’s willing to do it. It doesn’t matter how many O’Driscoll’s he has to fight or how many miles he has to gallop, Javier is determined..

Javier doesn’t wait around for the others to come with him. He prefers to do this alone and it’s easier for him to take a stealth approach this way too.

You didn’t even realize all the O’Driscoll’s were dead. Javier simply pushed the door open and told you that you’re safe now. “How about we spend the night away from camp, hm?” he asks, subtly looking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt “I don’t want you to get overwhelmed back at camp”.

Hosea

Hosea’s been through a lot in his life and at a certain point, he starts to pick up when something isn’t right.

He wasn’t sure about you going on a supplies run alone in the first place so when he heard about O’Driscoll’s being seen, it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

He gathers up some of the fellers and head off. Hosea knows what he’s doing and he knows the best plan possible so if Dutch tries to take control of the situation, Hosea immediately cuts him off.

After a brief shootout, Hosea finds you and quickly runs over to you. He asks if you’re alright before asking Arthur to go get you some water. “Are you ok? You’re very strong for getting through this, you know that? So strong”.

Sean

Sean has a lot of emotions. He’s angry that this has happened, scared, nervous and he’s pumped full of adrenaline.

You know Sean’s come to rescue you from the amount of shouting outside. He makes sure every O’Driscoll knows he’s there for you and continuous tells them they shouldn’t have messed with you or ‘Deadeye MacGuire’.

When Sean finally gets to you, he flings his arms around you and doesn’t let go. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there, I should’ve…” yeah Sean goes on for a while, listing off all the things he should have done differently.

Even when y’all are heading back to camp, Sean makes sure you ride with him so he can keep his arms around you. He doesn’t want to let you go for a long, long time.

[tobesoalive]

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.  

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

[isthisthingeven0n]

number eleven : s.r

a serial killer is at large in atlana, carving numbers into his victims and throwing their bodies from rooftops. yet, things seem to hit a little too close to home for your liking, and sadly you get caught up in it all (4.2k)

( this is an original idea of mine, I’ve gone based off what I know in the show but the killer is made up! pls do not steal my concept without at least asking, and i hope you enjoy :) )

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

*

Two Days Earlier

“Hey, Spencer,” You smile as you walk through the doors to the bullpen, two cups of coffee in hand as you place onto his desk. “how was the Doctor Who convention?”

Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one to pay attention to the small details Spencer shares. You always have done, ever since you first joined the BAU, you noticed the subtle eye rolls as he rambled on with facts and statistics so you made sure to always pay attention.

Lifting his head up, Spencer can feel a smile tugging his lips as you take a seat at your desk adjacent to his. “You would’ve loved it. They had the original designs from the Cybermen’s first appearance in 1966, ‘The Tenth Planet’ and for the time, it was high tech stuff.” He explains whilst you listen contently, oblivious to the others watching you both.

“God, they’re so into each other it hurts.” Emily sighs as Penelope nods along.

JJ walks over to the girls, catching sight of what they’re fixated on. “Why can’t they just say something? I mean, it’s been three years.” Penelope questions, but JJ simply chuckles.

“This is Spencer and Y/n we’re talking about.” JJ comments. “For one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Spencer can be stupid sometimes.” She states, returning her focus to how you look at Spencer as he talks, but also how willing Spencer is to be close to you and laughs at your input in between his rambles.

“I bet twenty dollars he’ll say something by the end of the year.” Rossi chimes in, but Emily scoffs. 

“Dream on, Rossi.” She comments, but Rossi shrugs his shoulders. 

Hotch exits his office, catching a glance from the girls who quickly stand up straight. “We’ve got a new case,” He announces, passing between you and Spencer on the way.

As you all enter the board room, you sit beside Spencer as you look at the tablet in front of you whilst he sticks to the original file.

“Within the past few months in Atlanta, Georgia, at least nine women have been found dead having fallen from rooftops, all in their twenties, latest victim was Caroline Kutes, twenty-three. Last seen having gone for a run after her shift at a local diner.” Penelope explains as you scroll through the images, seeing what was left of them from the crime scene.

“It’s not some suicide pack, is it?” Morgan speaks up, but Penelope shakes her head.

“I’m glad you asked, sugar.” She turns her back as she pulls up more images, displaying the victims left forearms. 

“Numbers?” You question, zooming in onto the number three having been carved into the victim's flesh. “Someone’s keeping track.”

“So we know there are nine confirmed victims of this unsub then, it’s not a suicide pack.” Hotch states. “The police have requested our insight on the case, wheels up in thirty.”

Closing the tablet you push your chair back. “You alright?” Spencer asks you as everyone begins to file out.

You force a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just some cases are never easy.” You mutter before heading out and grabbing your things.

*

Arriving straight to the latest crime scene, Hotch splits the team up. “Prentiss, I want you and Morgan to go to the rooftop, see if there’s anything left by the unsub or Caroline Kutes. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the morgue to take a look at the carvings and if there’s any other sign of torture.”

With that, you climb into a car with Spencer, looking at the drop from the building to where Hotch stands. “One hell of a fall.” You whistle as the driver pulls away, Spencer not missing your comment or how you’ve been wiping your hands over your pants since you arrived.

Standing in the morgue, Spencer took the lead as you stood back whilst bodies were examined. “There isn’t any sign of sexual assault on any of the women, but there are bruises across the neck and the carvings on the arm.” The diener explains. “From the fall she suffered several broken bones, a collapsed lung and a crack to her skull along with internal bleeding.”

“Are you saying she was alive when she hit the ground?” You speak up, stepping closer to see how they’ve managed to clean up the victims face, what remains from the large gash in her head.

“Yes, but only for a minute. She chocked to death on her own blood.” The diener states and you can’t help but feel a shiver through your spine.

“It’s most likely the unsub approached these women, if Caroline was out for a run, he might’ve asked her for directions or grabbed her. If she was grabbed, it would explain the bruising on the neck in an attempt to cut the circulation off to the brain, rendering her unconscious.” Spencer suggests, looking over to you as you remain too quiet for his liking. “You in there?”

Snapping out from your thoughts, you nod. “So the unsub approaches these women, tries to strangle them and then takes them to a rooftop. He isn’t sexually assaulting these women, but why throw them off a roof?”

“If he’s trying to pose it as suicide, it’s unusual for women to throw herself off a roof, it’s too dramatic. If a woman were to commit suicide, she’d overdose or drown herself. A subtle way to go.” Spencer explains as you nod along. “It’s almost as if he’s apologetic. He wants them to suffer, but can’t inflict the pain besides carving a number into their forearm.” Spencer looks over the number on Caroline’s arm. “You can see in some area’s he didn’t go deep enough with the knife, he’s dug in multiple times to carve out enough skin to make it bleed.”

“Maybe he’s a narcissist? Keeping track of his victims, making sure no one else can take the limelight for these girls.” You state. “I mean, he knows he isn’t going to get caught by the girls. Based on Caroline, she could barely move let alone tell anyone who did this.”

“I’ve seen countless bodies from suicide by jumping from buildings. It’s a rarity if you survived such a fall like this.” The diener tells you. “Clearly they knew what they were doing.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, when the body falls from a height their head does not splatter onto the ground. Their bones will break and splay out, but if you were to fall from say a 48 feet building you’re most likely to live with a 50% chance of surviving.” Spencer explains, and you nod along. 

“But our unsub picks tall buildings. Office blocks, malls, parking lots.” You tell Spencer who hums. “He knows they’re not going to survive the fall.” 

“Yes, but statistically,” Spencer begins, but your phone begins to ring cutting him off. 

“Sorry, Spence.” You tell him with an apologetic smile before moving out from the morgue, taking the phone call. “Yeah?” 

“Ah, my sweet angel. Have you found Cupid’s arrow yet?” Penelope chuckles, causing you to roll your eyes. “How’s the case going? No one’s called to update me on the gruesome details.” 

You sigh quietly. “Honestly, Pen, you’re lucky.” You tell her. “And what’d you mean by Cupid’s arrow?” 

Penelope groans loudly through the phone, and you can hear her head hitting the keyboard before she apologises to it. “Y/n, how are you so pretty yet oblivious to the attraction of one Spencer Reid?” 

“I, what?” You stumble over your words as you look over your shoulder to see Spencer staring back at you with a small smile on his lips as he waves to you. “I, he, Spencer? No,” You scoff, trying to think about anything else to reduce the spike in your heart rate. 

“I’m no profiler, but I know things,” Penelope states. 

“You’ve got it all wrong, Pen. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way he could ever like-” 

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, now standing in the doorway in front of you. “Hotch wants us to meet him, has a potential lead.” 

“Sorry P, I gotta go.” You tell Penelope before she has the chance to say anything else and hang up the phone. 

Walking alongside Spencer, you can’t help but notice how close he is to you. For someone who is a bit of a germaphobe, he’ll always sit with you before anyone else. During a flight last month with bad turbulence, he held your hand in his as you began to fall asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. You woke up concerned he’d mind, but Spencer just smiled and offered his shoulder any time. 

“So, what’s the lead?” You ask as you walk into the police precinct, finding the rest of your team in a small room as boards with pictures have already been set up. 

“I’ve checked with Garcia about the possibility that whoever is doing this must have some form of access to each of these buildings. There has to be something tying them together,” Prentiss begins. 

“Like a cleaning company, or security?” JJ suggests. 

Emily nods before grabbing a file and reading directly from it. “SecureO is a security company based all over Atlanta. They have hundreds of security guards working at various office blocks, department stores, parking lots. You name it, they’ve got people there.” 

“And our unsub works for them?” You question, looking at the file to see the hundreds of names. “How are we supposed to find him?” 

Hotch reaches out to call Garcia. “And here I thought you forgot about me.” Penelope states through the line, and Morgan smiles to himself. 

“Garcia, can you take a look at the employee records for SecureO and crosscheck to see if any of them have criminal records.” Hotch asks as you listen intently to Penelope typing away. 

“Okay, fifty-seven members of staff have criminal records.” Penelope states.

“How about any with troubled pasts? Maybe this guy is using these women as a form of release. He’s not sexually assaulting them, so it’s less likely to be about an ex, maybe it’s more personal.” You suggest, and Spencer scans through the file once again before looking back at the victims on the board.

“You, my pretty might be onto something,” Garcia chirps. “right, there are twelve members of staff who grew up in the foster system. I’m sending their details over to you right as we speak.”

“Wait, Penelope,” Spencer calls out and Hotch raises his head. “how many of those twelve lost family? Basing on their age and strength, he must be at least in his late twenties or early thirties. Try looking up any accidents in the state in the late eighties to early nineties.”

“Thinking he might have never left the state?” Morgan questions, his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearing his throat, Spencer stands taller beside you as you glance up at him with a reassuring smile. “Looking at all these women, they’re all young and pretty. Anyone who grew up in the system is less likely to leave the place they’re comfortable in. If our unsub grew up in Georgia, he would’ve stayed here and have gotten a job at eighteen. SecureO has been around for twelve years, and five of these employees have been around since it began.”

“Okay, I’ll send across anything once I’ve found it.” Penelope speaks up and hangs up the phone.

“Good work, Reid. Let’s go deliver the profile.” Hotch nods as he leads the way out of the room, Rossi patting Spencer’s shoulder as he departs.

“Not too shabby, Doctor.” You nudge Spencer playfully and he softly chuckles as you walk out.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/n.” He mutters under his breath as you walk out of earshot.

*

Entering the station the next morning, you looked around as solemn expressions greeted you.

“What’s happened?” You ask, taking a seat beside Spencer who notions to JJ.

“Another victim was found in the early hours of this morning. Amelie Hartnell, twenty, was discovered on top of a dumpster in a back alley below a seven-story abandoned office building.” JJ passes over the file to you as you flick through the images whilst you hold your breath.

“She was only twenty,” You mutter to yourself, unaware of Spencer eyeing you carefully. “there’s something about the carving on her, it isn’t as deep. You can see it’s a lot shallower than the others.” You explain.

“He was in a rush this time.” Morgan states. “But if it was an abandoned building, who was going to see him?”

“I’m not sure,” Hotch mutters. “call Garcia, see if she’s found anything yet about those five employees.” 

“On it. Baby girl,” Morgan comments before exiting the room. 

“You seem tired, Y/n.” Rossi speaks up, and you lift your head up to see the concern in his eyes. “Is something bothering you?” 

Shaking your head, you dismiss the matter as the team look over at you. “I’m fine, just thinking about a few things. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You tell him, but Spencer can tell there’s something else underlying you’re not saying. “Excuse me, I just need some air.” You mutter before exiting the precinct. 

Watching you walk away, Spencer sighs. “Well, go follow her,” Rossi motions to Spencer who quickly gets up and exits the room. “these kids, I swear.” He mutters to himself once Spencer is out of sight.

As you walk out, you take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. “Y/n,” Spencer calls out and you turn around, forcing a smile. “something’s clearly bothering you.” He states as you move away to sit on a bench whilst Spencer hovers beside you. 

“When I was growing up, I had a friend, Sylvia,” You start, and Spencer watches as you brush your hands over your pants once more. “she moved to Savannah and we just grew apart, but I’ll never forget her brother, Killian.” 

Spencer sits down beside you, your leg touching his as he reaches out and takes your hand. “Y/n, what was it about Killian?” He questions quietly. 

“He was always there, just watching us.” You mumble, remembering those bright blue eyes always in the background, never leaving you or Sylvia. “But, their parents, they died in a car crash when Sylvia was thirteen, Killian was fourteen.” You begin to explain as you exhale a shaky breath. 

Squeezing Spencer’s hand, he shushes you. “It’s okay, just, take it one memory at a time.” He reassures you as your eyes remain tightly shut. 

“From what I know, Sylvia couldn’t take it, losing her parents,” You swallow the lump in your throat as you open your eyes, focusing on Spencer’s. “she killed herself, by jumping off of the roof of a mall.” 

“Just like the first victim.” Spencer mutters as he quickly stands up. “We gotta tell Hotch.” 

*

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Y/n?” Hotch stressed as he frowns at you, but Spencer remains by your side as you keep your focus on the team, eyeing the photos behind Emily. 

“I suppressed a lot of memories from when I was growing up, I forgot all about Killian and Sylvia, but seeing these photos it just made me think back to it all.” You explain, looking around at all of your team. “I’m sorry for holding back.” You apologise, and JJ smiles as she walks over, hugging you lightly. 

“Garcia, can you look up Killian and Sylvia Atwork?” You speak up into the phone and Penelope begins to type rapidly before pausing.

“Oh my god,” She mutters. “Killian has been working at SecureO for ten years. He was employed when he turned eighteen and is in charge of the security footage for various locations.” 

Hotch rises to his feet. “We have to inform the police department and the news outlets, JJ, can you sort a press conference?”

“I’m on it.” JJ states as she begins to call her contacts, taking the call in another room.

“Y/n, we might’ve just had a break in the case because of you, thank you.” Hotch comments and Rossi gives you a subtle thumbs up. “Garcia, I need you to look at any other buildings that SecureO are in charge of the security systems, see if our unsub is heading to any of these next. If we’re lucky, we’ve got enough time to stop him killing again.”

“Will do, Sir.” Penelope calls out from the phone.

“You think we’ll get him in time?” You speak up, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

“Hopefully.” Hotch sighs and JJ walks back in.

“Ready when you are, Hotch.”

* The plan was simple, and it should’ve been effective. All of you were teamed off into pairs. Prentiss and Morgan, JJ and Rossi, Hotch and the chief of police whilst you went with Reid.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as you sit beside him in the car on route to the office block about ten minutes west of the station. “Without you, we might not have gotten to this point.”

Spencer can’t help but feel warm inside as you smile up at him. “You think so?”

“I know for a fact.” He states as his hand reaches out to yours as he pulls up to the building. “Just keep an eye out, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Again.” You add as you close the car door, securing your vest on as the pair of you begin to head up to the roof of the building, you leading the way.

“Any sign, Y//L/N?” Hotch asks through your earpiece.

Looking around, you keep your gun extended in front of you as you quietly open the door to the roof. “Negative.” You state, turning the corner as you continue to search the place whilst Spencer is still coming up the stairs.

“Reid, my dead grandmother could’ve gotten up those stairs faster than you.” You joke playfully as he comes into sight, the sun beginning to set behind you illuminating his hazel eyes as they widen.

“Y/n!” Spencer yells, but you’re too slow to react as an arm is tightly holding your neck whilst a knife is being pressed against your back beneath the vest.

“Long time no see, huh, Y/n?” Killian mutters into your ear as he begins to drag you back as you sight against him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this can end one of two ways, I prefer to keep this clean.”

“We need back up and medics at 1238 Meadow Lane, I repeat, we need backup. Killian is here, he, he has Y/n.” Saying that through the comms immediately causes his heart to sink as tears fill your eyes.

“We’re coming now,” Hotch announces, and you can hear the sound of sirens across the city as Killian drags you toward the edge of the roof with you in front of him.

“Spence,” You focus on Spencer’s face as his gun remains out, directed at Killian’s head. “what are the statistics of surviving this?” You ask him as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Spencer starts, but you shake your head as you fight against Killian, taking shallow breaths as he continues to apply pressure to your windpipe.

“Please,” You breathe out as Killian chuckles against you. “I need to know.”

The truth of the matter is you know your odds of making it out alive are slim to none, but you wanted to hear Spencer ramble one last time. 

“From a building like this, a ten-story drop your odds aren’t great, in fact, falls from ten-story buildings have a 90% chance of death.” He explains, his gun now shaking in his hand as he pictures you on the ground below, bleeding out. “Those, those who survive can be paralysed if they land on their backs, permanent brain damage from skull fractures or,” Spencer stops himself as Killian focuses on him.

“Do finish Doctor Reid, I’m enjoying this.” Killian states, and you shudder at the fact he’s finding this entertaining.

“In cases like Sylvia, she survived but was left to bleed out.” Spencer finishes, and your eyes widen. “You see, Sylvia wasn’t suicidal like we thought. She was just in the wrong place, wasn’t she, Killian?” Spencer steps closer, but you wince as you can feel the knife starting to pierce your skin.

“No, Sylvia killed herself. I, I saw it.” Killian yells, tightening his grip around your neck as your hands lie limply by your sides. “I would never hurt her.”

“Not intentionally,” Spencer comments. “you were playing, and you knocked her, didn’t you?”

Killian shakes his head. “No! She jumped!” You can feel his heart beating against you. “She jumped and never said goodbye, she left me all alone.” He cries out.

“Killian, I’m sorry.” You manage to say. “It wasn’t your, your fault.”

“She left me here.” He spits at you. “Everyone else moved on, but I was left with the guilt.”

“There’s always another way, Killian.” You speak softly, focusing on Spencer. “But if this is it,” You start, but Spencer shakes his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” You let your tears fall freely down your cheeks as Spencer steps closer.

“Y/n, don’t do this.” Spencer tells you.

“I love you Spence, but please, please be strong for me.” You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness as Killian continues to apply more pressure around your neck.

“There’s another way out, Killian. I promise you, just let Y/n go.” Spencer is yelling at the top of his lungs as Killian simply laughs.

“You think there’s another option? You sure you’re a Doctor, kid?” Killian scoffs.

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling as Killian falls backwards, taking you with him.

“NO!” Spencer screams, running over as Killian lets go of you at the last second.

Spencer grabs a hold of your hand, but within a split second, it slips. “Spence,” You cry out as you hang on to the ledge of the building with all your might.

The sound of Killian hitting the floor only worsens your fear as Spencer begins to pull you up. All you can hear is the sound of your heart in your ears as the sirens dull behind you whilst Spencer is yelling in front of you, yet you can’t hear any of it. 

“Come on, Y/n, stay with me!” Spencer screams as another pair of hands appear by his side.

“Come on, we’ve got you.” Hotch states, pulling you up with Spencer and away from the ledge.

Immediately you fall into Spencer’s arms, your hands gripping his arms as you sob into his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not letting go.” Spencer holds you tightly as he looks up at Hotch, his expression saying more than words can.

“We need a medic!” Hotch yells as three men appear, checking over you as you remain sat with Spencer on the roof, far away from the ledge.

“You’re okay,” Spencer tells you as you go quiet, going into shock as the medics help you out from the building and into the ambulance as your team stands by.

“Oh thank god.” JJ blurts out as Spencer exits the building, enveloping him into a tight hug. “Are you alright?” She checks as she pulls away, but Spencer can’t help himself as he focuses on you in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in foil as the medics check you over.

JJ follows Spencer’s gaze and can’t help but force back her smile.

“Go on, you should be with her.” She assures him, but Spencer pauses.

“Y/n told me she loves me.” Spencer quietly tells JJ who quirks an eyebrow. “You, you knew didn’t you?”

JJ chuckles under her breath. “Spence, we all knew. But she doesn’t know you love her too, does she?”

Spencer shakes his head as he glances back over to you, seeing you being given the all-clear as you begin to rise to your feet.

Immediately, Spencer darts over to help you, his hand resting on your waist as you look up at him. “Spence, I,” You stumble over your words, watching as Killian’s body is being transported away in the body bag.

“Hey, don’t focus on that,” Spencer rests his hand on your cheek. “you’re alive, and I guess you beat the statistic.” He states, listening as you laugh lightly.

“Probably because I didn’t fall.” You add.

“But you almost did, and, and I would never have had the chance to tell you this,” Spencer tells you.

“Tell me what?” You ask, looking up at him with hesitation.

Spencer opens his mouth and after exactly three years, two months and nine days of knowing you and falling in love with you, he cannot find the right words to string together. “In the English language. there are 171,476 words. I’ve only ever needed three of them to tell you how I feel, but I can’t even do that properly.” He laughs uneasily as he focuses on you.

Lifting your hand up, you rest it on the back of his neck as you rise to your tiptoes. “Is this okay?” You whisper.

“More than okay,” Spencer responds before his lips are on yours.

You can hear Rossi cheering in the background as Hotch tries to shush them all but secretly is proud of you both. Having seen the way you gripped Spencer’s shirt when he saved you on that roof, he knew it was about time something would finally happen.

Pulling away from the kiss, you laugh lightly. “I take it the feeling is reciprocated then?” You question, and Spencer smiles.

“I’m never letting you go again.” He mumbles into you as you rest your head against his chest, hoping that promise will remain intact.

[midnightsconspiracy]

Public Opinion

Public Opinion - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Being a public defender made you rather unpopular, especially with your new boyfriend's co-workers

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1443

Requested: Yes!!

‘This might be a bit random but I was thinking one for Mouse where the reader is like a successful, powerful lawyer and is secretly dating mouse, but when the team finds out they judge her until they meet her? Sorry if it’s too specific I’m in love with your fics.’

A/N: I am on a creative roll tonight! 4 fics in one night!!! Requests are still open

Masterlist

When you had met Mouse you knew things might be have been a little rocky, considering your jobs were notorious for hating each other, you working as a public defender and him working within the police force. But that had not stopped the both of you from entering a relationship, deciding that it didn’t bother you, both loving what you did and each other, neither wanting to compromise. You had met him at a Rangers reunion, your brother having served alongside Mouse in Afghanistan. You two had instantly hit it off, both keeping each other company, having your original partners blow you off. He had told you of his friend Jay, who he’d originally meant to have gone with, but being abandoned last minutes for his girlfriend instead. That had worked out in both of your favours, allowing you to have the time of your life, talking for hours getting buzzed whilst drinking the free drinks the event offered. After that night you had lost contact for a couple of months before he reached out asking you to go on a date. You were sceptical at first, why was he just reaching out now and not in the three months he’d had your number? But you had said yes anyway, remembering how good you had felt when you were with him.

That evening he had told you how he was meaning to call but had been going through some stuff at work that kept him from doing so. The date had bought back memories of how much you enjoyed spending time with Mouse, eventually leading to more and more dates each month, until finally, you started formally dating. Mouse was not the easiest boyfriend, having problems with his PTSD and anxiety, but that didn’t make him any less loveable in your eyes, in fact, it made him more so. It bought you both closer together, he relied on the fact that you were willing to help him, encouraging him to seek help each time he felt as though he was spiralling out of control. After six months of seeing you, he already felt as though he was a better person, he had started therapy to help deal with his trauma caused by the Rangers, going out to socialise with his friends more and was just generally happier with his daily life. The one thing he didn’t understand though is why you chose to become a public defender. You knew it was his police and military background talking, but it didn’t bother you too much knowing not many people understood why you did what you did, being a public defender, and a good one, was an extremely controversial job. Explaining to him that you liked to help the underdog, he stared at you like you were mad, as you realised he would never understand why. Once you had felt as though you trusted him enough, you decided that you wanted to meet the other important people in his life, his co-workers. You finally wanted to meet the notorious Jay Halstead, the one he had told you so much about on that faithful day. But he had been hesitant when you bought the topic up, knowing how they had reacted when he had told them originally.

The team had noticed a difference in Mouse, being much happier, even being more talkative than usual. They had questioned him extensively, wanting to get to bottom of what or who was causing Mouse to act differently. Whilst at Molly’s, he had decided to reveal all over a couple of beers, informing the team that he had met a girl a couple of months ago, and had only recently become official with her. The team had been happy at first, congratulating him on finding someone, despite his traumatic past and the consequences of that. But things had turned sour when then had pried more on who this mysterious person was. He’d told them that you were a public defender, and they might have known who you were considering you had defended some high profile criminals that they had worked on. That had changed things dramatically, all of them knowing exactly who you were, disliking you over the fact you had gotten off or lessened the sentence of people who had done awful things and they had spent a long time trying to find. Jay's reaction had been the harshest blow to Mouse, being his best friend, he just wanting the man's approval. This recent disapproval of your relationship made Mouse really question what he wanted, you or Jay? Determined that he wanted to keep both of you, he devised a plan, maybe if Jay met you, he would change his opinion on you. So he decided that he would bring you along to when they would next all meet up at the infamous bar.

Mouse had been telling you for the past week that you two were going out on Friday evening to meet his friends, so you were excited, not knowing what had happened with him and his co-workers last time they had drunk there. Getting ready, you put on a nice outfit, waiting for Mouse to be ready so you could finally leave. A few minutes past and Mouse still had not emerged from the bedroom, despite seemingly already being ready as you were getting changed. Walking into the bedroom you found him on the bed, head in his hands, silent and unwavering. Calling his name out, he looked up, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, walking towards you to plant a slight kiss on your forehead. Asking if he was ok, he shrugged it off, giving you a small ‘yes’, proceeding to walk out of the room to grab his keys and wallet. The car ride over was silent, as tension filled the air, a tension that you didn’t understand. Walking into the bar and over to the booth, Mouse introduced you nervously, bringing down your excitement a couple of notches in the process due to his strange disposition. Following your boyfriend, you greeted everyone, noticing all of the grim faces staring back at you. The first to speak up was Jay, introducing himself with an awkward smile, the table falling into silence afterwards. You knew something was off but that didn’t stop you from being your normal, kind self.

“Mouse talks very highly of you all, I especially appreciate all the work you guys do,” you said, trying to create conversation to cut the tension.

“Yeah, sure you do,” Jay sarcastically commented, verbally disagreeing with your line of work

“I know you guys don’t like the work I do, but I have a reason for it, just as you have yours for becoming police officers.” Trying to reason with them was going to be hard, having gone in a totally opposite direction career-wise to them, having a fixed outlook on your job. But you were determined, loving Mouse so much that you would fight as hard as you could to be in their good books.

“It's not the same though, we catch criminals, you release them.” Adam piped up, adding more fuel to the fire of hatred, directed towards you.

“Maybe we should leave,” Mouse said, knowing you were probably extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

“No,” you replied, wanting to stand your ground and explain yourself to these people.

“I do it because no one else is routing for the underdog, they’re thrown into the system and spit out into a life of more crime. I help them have a chance at life, a chance of justice, even if sometimes they don’t deserve it.” Raising your voice, you started getting angry, these people weren’t even giving you a chance, not only hurting yourself but also Mouse in the process.

“Ok.” Jay followed up.

“Plus you should be happy for your friend that he’s happy and found someone that he likes, not hating on me and trying to sabotage this relationship-” you exclaimed, pissed at the fact his friends would do this to him.

“I like you.” Jay butted in. Confusion bounded onto your face at the sudden expression of fondness. Why had they changed their minds so quickly? The conversation continued as normal as if that argument had never even happened, not only chatting as usual but including you in them as well. Little did you know your outburst had changed his mind completely, deciding that maybe you weren’t so bad, that your fiery self would stand up for you and Mouse no matter what, and that was just what he needed. So maybe you were good for Mouse after all.

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[bigskydreaming]

I kinda wanna fucking scream, so here, have a offline bullshit rant post.

So I’ve literally been trying to get my stupid fucking meds for over a MONTH now at this point, which I’m sure you can all see like, my mood is just wooooonderful these days. Not an excuse, casual reminder that yeah you do gotta take care of your own space so if my mood is dragging anyone down, I’m totes on board with blocking or unfollowing or y’know, burning me in effigy or something. Okay maybe not that last part. But still. You get it. And its not even that like, I need mood stabilizers per se, lol, so shout out to the armchair diagnosticians helpfully peppering my inbox still in their quest to oh so slickly be like ‘hey you’re a hot mess, take your hot messness away from tumblr’ like lol, didn’t ask.....nah, its mostly the perpetual lack of sleep and chronic pain issues that I have zero distraction from when my specific combo of meds isn’t able to let me actually weaponize my ADHD properly and power through that. Its a whole thing. Whatever. Just go with it.

POINT IS. So I’ve been trying to do this for over a month now, first obstacle was even just getting the money together for my refill appointment which is a whopping $150, because I have to pay out of pocket for mental health stuff these days because I had to switch my insurance over to something that paid out more heavily for physical benefits like my jaw surgery.....and because of the pandemic, and how many psychiatrists in my area and that I could actually reach aren’t taking new patients during the pandemic since most of them are conducting business virtually still, like, I have barely any resources for seeking out and trying new psychiatrist offices in the meanwhile that might charge less and I’m kinda stuck with the one I have because the last thing I can afford is to have like, NO psychiatrist at the moment, y’know?

So first I had to have that to even BOOK the appointment, which took forever because rent and food are a joy to accrue when you can barely manage to function as an actual employee of the capitalist machine ahfsklhflkahflakf, but so then I did that and like, got an appointment put on the books for August 19th. That was the soonest they could fit me in back when I paid them for my appointment about a week and a half ago. No, two weeks ago now? Eh, time is fake. ANYWAY, so that wasn’t gonna work for me, so basically the entirety of last week was devoted to constantly calling and trying to check in every other hour to see if they had any sooner cancellations I could take, because for whatever fucking reason, they just ‘don’t do’ a cancellation list wherein they call the next person on the list once they have a cancellation. Whatever.

So finally got a cancellation slot with a virtual appointment last Saturday night at random as fuck 8:40. Okay cool. Most of my refills are fairly simple, no real changes, but two are controlled substances so like, they have to do their due diligence and go through the proper protocols before giving me another prescription to one or whatever. Fine. Okay.

So I call the CVS they sent the prescription for my ADHD med to, the very next morning. One of the controlled substances, and the key med to like....making me functional instead of a rambling disjointed whirlibird of a thought emitter. Problem is, that medication is on back order. Won’t be in until Tuesday. Ugh. Okay, fine. Nothing I can do about it, because while the specific provider I spoke to in order to GET my refill prescriptions was taking an appointment the night before, the actual offices that schedule appointments and connect patients through to their providers was closed for the weekend, so I couldn’t even ask for them to send the scrip somewhere else.

SO. I go back to the CVS on Monday, hoping that maybe it came in early because not like I can do much else in the meanwhile. Course its not there, but oh well. I toy with the idea of calling to ask my provider to send the scrip to a different pharmacy (only had it sent to this one cuz its within walking distance to me, and since I can’t drive for medical reasons and Uber’s are expensive as fuck, just for errands, like, even though walking is sooooo not fun for me physically, like it is what it is). I decide against it because here’s another fun fact about this controlled substance....for security reasons, pharmacies don’t have to tell people over the phone if they have it in stock or not. Like, they won’t just say no we don’t have it in stock - I mean, they WILL say that, but that doesn’t actually mean anything because that’s what most of them say about that particular medication no matter whether or not they DO, and then just cite security protocols, so you have to actually GO to the store in question to ask them and even get a real answer to whether or not they even HAVE it in stock to FILL a prescription if its sent over. And no, the provider won’t just send scrips into several different pharmacies at once and just be whichever has it in stock can fill it - because again, controlled substance.

SO. I decide its not worth it to try getting the scrip sent over somewhere else, because I’d have to at least waste money on an Uber to even travel to various pharmacies and even check if they CAN fill it sooner than this one, when at least this place will have it in tomorrow. Its just one more day at this point.

Except then I go back on Tuesday. Oh sorry, don’t know why that other person told you we’d have our order in today, our shipments of that medication don’t come in until Wednesdays.

So I go back Wednesday. Success! They have it in stock. I go to pay, pulling out my goodRx coupon that was just printed out that morning, specifically citing the price for CVS at Target. The pharmacy manager says sorry, we don’t honor that coupon here for controlled substances like this one. I say: record scratch? He’s like yeah, that’s at the discretion of individual pharmacies, and we don’t honor that price for this specific medication, because we don’t want to attract customers only coming here to get that medication filled for that price. (This pharmacy is right at the edge of Inglewood and Culver City, for anyone who is familiar with those neighborhoods. The implications are exactly as they appear to be). So I’m like, what’s the regular generic price? He quotes me something that’s $180 more than the coupon, and thus $180 more than I have since I was focused totally on getting THIS amount ASAP, so I could get these meds so I could do more work and make more money. You see the train of thought. I’m like well that’s awesome, I don’t have anything close to that. Hey. Weird question. Why did nobody I talked to the past three days in a row that I’ve walked into this store in person to request this refill, like, mention this little tidbit about not honoring this coupon so instead of waiting for a backorder that would do me no good, I could have been spending that time having my prescription transferred somewhere that WOULD honor it?

He’s like, well did you mention to any of them that you’d be using a goodRx coupon for this particular medication? I said, yup. He said, you sure? I said well the specific process each time was I came in, I asked if this medication was in, they said what’s your name and date of birth, I provided that info, they said are you paying out of pocket, we don’t have valid insurance info for this on file for you, I said yup paying out of pocket with a goodRx coupon, they said *clickety clack of the keyboard* nope, sorry, we won’t have this medicine in until Tuesday, I mean Wednesday. 

He’s like, well you must be misremembering or they would have told you at the time that we don’t take GoodRx coupons on this medication. I’m like, dude, it was you. It was literally you that I spoke to two of those three times, right here at the counter, in person. I’m gonna go ahead and trust my memory of those interactions and what was said there over yours since you don’t actually remember having talked to me two times in the last three days. He’s like, I gotta go help another customer. There is no other customer. I leave. Fun day for everyone.

So then I call around town to at least check which CVS will actually honor the coupon I have and the price that I can afford to pay it at. I don’t bother asking if they even have the medication in stock because I know its not guaranteed to be a CORRECT answer, but at least I can see who accepts this damn coupon. Also, reason I’m only trying big brand pharmacies instead of smaller, hole in the wall ones is because again, controlled substance, and I know from experience that the bigger brand pharmacies are at least more likely to have that med in stock whereas most smaller ones tend to run out very quickly as they usually only get enough for their existing/regular customers and a little extra.

I find a CVS five miles away - not walkable, gonna have to Uber. Call my psychiatrist office again to ask them to transfer the scrip, front office says they’ll send the request to my provider, who usually checks and fulfills such requests in 24-48 hours. I’m like okay cool, can I get a phone call to let me know when that happens, so at least I know when to check back to follow up if it hasn’t happened yet for whatever reason? They’re like no, the pharmacy will send you a text or call when they get the prescription sent over and you can take it from there with them. I’m like okay, but I’ve done this a bunch of times and know from experience the pharmacy does NOT in fact always call or text, so is there a certain time to follow up to inquire if the provider has already sent the scrip and the pharmacy SHOULD have it by now or if the delay is on the provider’s end? Front office is like yeah no. I’m like, swell.

So that was yesterday. I call the pharmacy (which I still don’t even know if they have the medication IN STOCK to fill the scrip even once they GET the scrip, and won’t until I can actually Uber out there, but one thing at a time at this point) at like 9 pm, they’re a 24 hour pharmacy, and they’re like nope, we got nothing (this is after spending an hour and a half on hold to even TALK to someone at the pharmacy). Called them again today at noon, still nada. Technically I have another 29 hours before the window in which the provider is supposed to send the refill scrip to this new location, before I can be like, okay so they still haven’t done it, can we send him a nudge or another request. The 24-48 hour window will only actually EXPIRE after their offices close on Friday meaning it’ll be Monday before I can even actually REACH someone again to ask them to send the scrip again, if the pharmacy hasn’t ACTUALLY gotten it by Friday night, and pessimistically, I’m not super inclined to assume that they will at this point. 

I’m antsy, irritable, hungry because I don’t even know for SURE sure if the new pharmacy will ACTUALLY honor the coupon or say no sorry we don’t do that here either, whoever told you that was wrong, or if they’ll even actually have it in stock versus I’ll have to have it sent somewhere else AGAIN, so I have to pinch every penny possible in order to ensure I have the most money possible once my prescription IS filled in case the price is more than I expected again or in case I have to take Ubers there or further than I expected or basically....shit happens that I don’t expect. And this is what I’m basically spending all my time doing instead of working, because trying to get work done in this state is like....the harder I try to make it happen, the less it actually gets done, so I try and prioritize this and its roadblock after roadblock dragging out and wasting my time, and like yeah, I can post and shit while I’m doing this aka sitting on hold or walking around town trying to get shit filled because its fine if I ramble incoherently along the way in posts, but actual WORK work requires like....fucking coherency and succinctness and not having to stop and start every five minutes to call someone else, and oh yeah, being able to power through migraine spikes. And just.

I’m very annoyed about anything and everything to do with this shit. The hoops you have to jump through to even get the stuff that like....actualizes your hoop jumping ability, is just....*gnashing of teeth*

Anyway. So that’s my offline bullshit rant. Yay. The end.

[tennessoui]

this is probably too many prompts lol but uhhh obikin: #6 meeting at a coffee shop au; #24 literally bumping into each other au; #40 exes meeting again after not speaking for years au (i'm a sucker for breaking up and getting back together again lol); #42 star-crossed lovers au; #48 meeting again at a high school reunion au

hi!! you probably forgot you sent this at all and I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. I'm pretty sure someone else already asked for 24, 40, and 42, so I wrote #6 instead! warnings for this one: bittersweet in that both anakin and obi-wan are sad, also the author is sad, also this takes place in the midwest in america (this is the first fic that is obviously set in america!!! wow!!)

6. Meeting At A Coffee Shop Diner AU (1.9k)

“Have a seat anywhere you want,” the hostess tells Obi-Wan without looking up from her phone.

Obi-Wan blinks and then looks around the deserted seating area. “Thank you, uh.” She’s not wearing a name tag.

“Angel’ll bring you the menu and take care of you, thanks for coming in,” she says, glancing up at him and then away.

Well then. Obi-Wan reminds himself that customer service isn’t everyone’s strong suit, that she might have had a rough day, that he’s here for the quick food on his way through town, that his ego isn’t fragile enough that he needs to be led to a table with a smile.

The restaurant is almost completely deserted. There’s two truckers eating their weight in bacon and eggs at the counter, and a family of four seated around a table, resolutely picking at their food instead of talking to each other. And then there’s Obi-Wan.

He chooses a booth by the window, one that overlooks the absolute nothingness of midwestern American scenery. If he cranes his neck, he can probably see corn.

God, Obi-Wan’s sick of seeing corn, and he’s only been in this part of the country for a few hours. He needs to go right through most of it to get where he’s headed. He’s not sure how he won’t die of boredom.

The thought sends a pang through his chest. It’s too soon to think of death even in an offhand way. He taps his fingers on the cover of his leather journal, before a line of dark brown under one of them catches his eye. He studies his hand critically.

It’s been two days since the funeral. Surely he wouldn’t still have grave dirt under his nails. Surely things like that wash away eventually.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. A man is turned around and kneeling up in the booth in front of Obi-Wan’s, leaning over the garishly red vinyl of the empty seat with a menu clutched in one hand. His hair is short and dark blond, an undercut with a long fringe settling over his forehead. He has a nice sort of smile, one that looks genuine but doesn’t touch his eyes. Obi-Wan notices how long the man’s neck is and how predominant his collarbones appear in the loose white shirt he’s wearing, before he forces himself to focus only on his face. “I’m Angel,” the guy says, passing over the menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Obi-Wan accepts it gingerly. It looks like something that’s perpetually sticky. “Water is fine,” he says politely. “Thank you.”

“Will do,” Angel salutes him and ambles away. Obi-Wan watches him go before shaking his head to rid himself of any sort of thought, and opening the menu.

It’s standard food fare, of course. Breakfast options served all day if anyone were to come in and request them. Lunch and dinner options are also served all day, probably for the same reason: a diner like this can’t afford to turn anyone away, even if they want a hamburger at nine in the morning.

A glass of water clinks down onto the table next to him, making him look up at Angel, who’s looking at him curiously.

“You ready to order?” he asks, even though Obi-Wan is still very much looking at the menu and it’s also only been a few minutes at most since Angel gave it to him in the first place.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Obi-Wan asks politely. “I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

“The water,” Angel says and then laughs like he’s said something funny. Obi-Wan finds his own mouth curling up at the sound. Sometimes people’s laughter is contagious, like a yawn.

And then Angel says, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “North of Boston.”

Angel whistles, like Obi-Wan has said something impressive. “Boston, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”

The pit in his stomach intensifies. He does his best not to look at his nails and the grave dirt that might still be under them. “Driving,” he finally says. “And are you...from around here?”

Angel’s eyes grow distant for a second, and when he focuses again on Obi-Wan, they’re cold. “Born and raised,” he tells him flatly. “Never got out.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to do with the sort of bitterness in Angel’s tone. It complements his own well enough.

“If you like eggs, I’ll put you in for the house special omelette,” Angel declares suddenly, all business again. “It’s four eggs, tomatoes, peppers, cheese. The usual.”

“What makes it special?” Obi-Wan asks, closing his menu and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“For you?” Angel drawls, “I’ll watch the cook to make sure he doesn’t get any egg shells in it,” and then he winks, holding out his hand.

Naturally, Obi-Wan shakes it. Naturally, Obi-Wan realizes a second after feeling Angel’s warm, calloused rough palm against his own that the man had meant to take the menu from Obi-Wan.

He can’t remember the last time he’s blushed this red, but he is absolutely regretting everything about this road trip. God, he’d pay money just to be able to leave now.

He should get in his car and drive back to Boston. It had been a stupid idea to come out here anyway, a result of stir-craziness and a desire to outrun the death of his father.

And now look what he’s doing. Shaking hands with his handsome waiter, as if he isn’t thirty-nine and perfectly aware of social norms.

Thankfully, miraculously, Angel laughs and this time it sounds real. “It’s okay,” he tells him, reaching out to pick up the menu.

Luckily for everyone involved, Obi-Wan finds it very easy to laugh at himself. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Angel, I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll go put the order in,” Angel says, “Obi-Wan.”

He’s back within five minutes, sliding into the seat across from Obi-Wan. So much for no eggshells in his omelette, but he can’t bring himself to be disappointed. There’s something magnetically fascinating about Angel. He’d like to know more.

“So you’re driving?” Angel asks, picking up a thread of conversation from several minutes ago. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of Alaska,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve--I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re driving from Boston to Alaska?” Angel whistles, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I think the gas money alone would cost me two months of work.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. It’s not like he makes much himself as a teacher in Massachusetts. “My father was a lifelong gambler,” he discloses without really knowing why he’s telling this to a stranger. “He came into a bit of luck near the end. A bit of a fortune as well. And when he...died, I inherited it and his house.”

Angel touches his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “When did he pass?”

Obi-Wan huffs out what might be a chuckle. “A week ago, actually. It’s summer break in Massachusetts--I’m a teacher--and I suddenly had nothing to stay for, for a bit. It was either leave for Alaska or find some other way to cope.”

He runs a hand--his free hand, the one Angel isn’t touching--over his beard as he gives the man a rueful smile. “Dad always wanted me to see more of the world.”

“My mom was the same way,” Angel leans forward to tell him, as if it’s a secret. Obi-Wan feels like it is a secret, that there’s something delicate and fragile in the air. Something that matches whatever emotion is filling up Angel’s eyes. “Always telling me to leave, go get famous, go get happy, come back and tell her about it.”

“You didn’t?” Obi-Wan asks, his chest tightening at the thought that the man before him could be unhappy.

“I couldn’t,” Angel sneers, looking out the window and propping his chin on his hand. Some things must be too close to the heart to tell someone to their face. “Mom got sick. I wanted to get out, I was so close. Graduated high school, packed my stuff. I was going to go to California. To Los Angeles, really make it big.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if there’s something inherently funny about the dreams he must have cherished for so long.

“Then mom collapsed going down the stairs. Just passed out in the middle of the day. Doctors told us she was sick. Then life became all about treatment plans and monitoring symptoms and getting the money for the medicines and I never left. Got a job here when I was eighteen years old, right before I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess.”

“And your mother?” Obi-Wan asks, mouth dry and heart all tangled up in itself for this stranger man, for Angel with the hard, sad eyes.

“Died a year and a half ago or so,” Angel says flatly like he’s repeated the words so often in his head that the truth digs no barbs into his flesh. Obi-Wan knows that voice is a lie. How often has he looked in the mirror this past week and told himself, ‘Qui-Gon Jinn is dead’? He can’t imagine a year and a half would make the pain go away.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says seriously, reaching across the table to touch Angel’s hand this time.

Angel shrugs but doesn’t pull away. “Is what it is, I guess,” he says. “I’ve made my peace with it. And the fact that I’ll never leave this godforsaken town.”

“You could,” Obi-Wan points out hesitantly. “You could leave tomorrow.”

For a second, a wild and previously undiscovered part of Obi-Wan wonders what it would be like, if Angel did leave tomorrow--with him. If they got into the same car and headed to Alaska together and Obi-Wan wasn’t alone at the wheel and Angel wasn’t alone in this town. If Obi-Wan could look over at the man in the passenger seat, asleep against the doorway as they crossed into Canada.

Obi-Wan wonders. Obi-Wan aches.

“I could,” Angel says, laughing once. “I guess I could. I guess I just can’t think of a good enough reason to.”

There’s a call of his name from the kitchen, and Angel stands and stretches, checking the time on his watch. “That’ll be your omelette, sir, which is perfect timing considering I’m off shift as of five minutes ago.”

“Thank you then,” Obi-Wan replies, ignoring the pang in his gut at the knowledge he won’t be able to keep talking to him. “It was nice meeting you, Angel.”

Angel’s face grows dark for a second as his jaw clenches. “That’s not my name,” he finally says, scratching at his neck with one hand. “That’s just what they called me when I started working here. Angel, like Los Angeles. Cause I told everyone for weeks this was a temporary thing, you know? I’d be going to California soon as mom got better. Guess they knew better than I did.”

Obi-Wan has never wanted to kidnap a grown man away from a place more, so he hides his hands under the table instead. “Would you tell me your name then?” he asks, wondering if he’s overstepping but needing to know too much to censor himself.

“It’s Anakin,” his waiter says, sticking his hand out, no menu to grab.

Obi-Wan takes it gently, turns it over, and cradles it between both of his hands. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Anakin.”

Maybe, he thinks as he picks at his omelette and watches Anakin shoulder his way through the front doors of the diner before disappearing down the street, maybe he can stay a day in this nowhere town. Just an extra day.

Yes, he thinks, taking a sip of his water. He’ll try the pancakes next.

[muertawrites]

Fireside (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,775

Author’s Note: I am so deeply sorry this took so long to post. I don’t know what happened but after Thanksgiving the creative part of my brain completely shut down and all I could do was lay in bed and play video games. But it’s back now so 🎉🎉🎉 happy new year to all of us! 

I got this request a WHILE ago and had written something else for it but after reconsidering, I totally hated it, so this is the rewrite for some cozy, wintery goodness. I also love this idea because I’m constantly cold - my feet and hands are always freezing and even in summer I’ll wear sweaters and hoodies because aircon can get pretty chilly when you have the body temp of your average vampire. 

Now for a little update: in the new year, I’ll be focusing more on original works than fanfiction. I’m still going to finish Two Halves, and I’ll still write fanfiction (because it’s still super fun) but I have so many ideas for original works that are taking over my brain that it seems only fitting to shift that direction. If you’re on my subscriber list and would like to only receive alerts for fanfic, let me know and I’ll add you to a separate list. 

I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, taking time to relax and spend time with loved ones, and generally just glad to have survived this shithole of a year. Here’s hoping that 2021 goes better - 2020 set the bar pretty low so it shouldn’t be too hard. 🥂

Snow was a rare occurrence in the Fire Nation. Summers typically scorched, followed by peaceful autumns and mild winters; a little rainfall was all one typically expected during the colder months in the Imperial City. 

This year, however, was much different. The mountains that bordered the villages and towns throughout the island were white capped under gray skies; streets were slickened by thick layers of ice that settled between cobblestones and creased the panes of windows; bracing breezes swept through landscapes unaccustomed to such unforgiving weather, carrying flurries of snow that bit at cheeks and cloaked the world in a dull ivory veil. Winter came to the Fire Nation seeking a cruel, unwarranted vengeance.

You woke in the middle of the night to find the fire beside your bed had died, leaving your borrowed room in a state of bitter, slicing cold. It wasn't the first time the Firelord’s palace had left you uncomfortably chilled since your arrival for his New Year’s celebrations, as the building was never meant to withstand this type of climate - sweeping ceilings, open breezeways, and tall windows with thin shutters ensured that the cold had its way. Being from the Northern Earth Kingdom, used to sturdy wooden lodges with massive fire pits that could burn an entire tree trunk with one lighting, this strange change of the typical season made you ache for home. 

Knowing there were no matches beside the hearth (given the sheer amount of fire benders that resided in the palace), you gathered up your courage and begrudgingly rolled from your mattress, taking the blankets with and wrapping them tightly around yourself. The walls around you creaked, shifting under the push of moaning winds, as you slipped into the hallway in search of your host. 

You were thankful that Zuko decided to keep his personal wing of the palace confined to a space that was mostly enclosed; the only breezeways in this part of the sprawling estate surrounded its courtyards and gardens, and were blocked by sets of heavy wood doors that shielded the inner parts of the building from being overcome by the elements. As you walked, traipsing through the corridor under your mound of blankets like some sort of shadowy, death-bringing phantom, you passed one of the windows that overlooked the gardens, and found it frosted under heavy white tufts of snow; puffy, clumped flakes whirled down from the sky, falling haphazardly as they escaped the grip of the whipping wind. Even in the relative warmth of the palace, your body shivered thinking of how frigid the air outside must be. 

Because of the abnormal cold, Zuko moved his mattress out of his bedroom and into his sitting room, where a large, decorative fireplace stood nestled into the far wall. You approached his sleeping form with gentle, quiet steps, being careful not to startle him; you lay a hand on his shoulder and he jolted awake, drawing a sharp breath in as he twisted to face you, blinking blearily to make out your features in the dark. 

“What are you doing?” he muttered. 

“I'm cold,” you whispered in response. “My fire went out.” 

Zuko sighed, fixing you with an irked, exhausted expression. 

“Seriously?” he groaned. “This is the third time this week.” 

“It's not my fault nobody has any friggin matches in this place,” you quipped. “And besides, why bring a servant all the way up here when I have one of the world’s greatest fire benders down the hall?”

Zuko huffed, then rolled back over in an attempt to shove you off. 

“There should be more blankets in your closet,” he grumbled. 

“I'm wearing all of them,” you retorted. 

You stood above him, waiting, but got no response. Shivering, and with an exasperated sigh, you pulled back the blankets around him, shuffling between them and nestling into his back; he snapped his head around once more, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“... Isn’t this a little uncomfortable?” he wondered. 

“Not really,” you replied. “We used to do this all the time when we were teenagers.” 

“We haven't done this since we were teenagers.”

You hummed, recalling your time together during the war. Even on the hottest days, your body was cold, your fingers always reasonably corpselike to anyone who happened to touch them - Zuko was one of those unfortunate people, and the lack of circulation in your limbs came as quite a worry to him. Throughout the day, he would take one of your hands in his, heating his palm until your skin took on a more lively temperature. When he noticed how much you layered at night when the air became cooler, he started sleeping nearer to you, eventually curling up around you to keep you warm. After the war, when he got into the habit of visiting you around the winter holidays, you still found yourself seeking him for warmth, tucking your hands into the sleeves of his robes or curling his palm around your icy fingers, finding sanctuary in the way he heated his skin to appease you. While it was true you hadn't slept together since you were younger, you hadn't ever needed to - desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“I should have remembered that you get so grumpy when you're tired,” you teased him, rubbing your feet against his; he hissed, but didn't pull away. 

“You're freezing,” he commented. “I should have remembered you're dead on the inside.” 

You giggled, sighing happily as the familiar heat of his skin warming like a furnace chased the chill from your toes. You slid your feet up along his ankles, causing him to shiver; his body tensed for a moment, then eased into your touch, quickly finding comfort in its familiarity. 

“Aang used to assume we were a couple because of this,” Zuko mumbled. “He still does.” 

“You're just a good friend,” you replied. You nuzzled your face into the broad, solid expanse of his back, breathing in his scent of scorched wood and sea salt. He felt like home. “Good friends don't let their friends freeze to death.” 

Zuko chuckled, taking hold of your hands that lay on his waist and cupping them within his own; he held your knuckles up to his mouth and huffed warm, smokey air onto them, heating them until they no longer felt cold. He tucked them beneath the fabric of his tunic, keeping them tepid between the fabric of his undershirt. 

“Uncle says the same thing,” he mused. “He says we treat each other like lovers, whether we realize it or not.” 

“My neighbors have asked me what my husband does that takes him away for so long out of the year...” you commented, eliciting another breathy laugh from your companion. “But I think I'd know if you were in love with me.” 

Zuko rolled over, turning to face you; his arm latched at your waist, his chest almost pressed to you and your noses grazing each other in the small space of his mattress. You blushed, the color blending with the soft, balmy glow of the low hearth behind him. 

“What makes you think I'm not in love with you?” he wondered. 

You paused, watching the flames flicker over the angular features of his face. Though he was silhouetted, and so close he seemed to envelop all of you, you could make out a tender gleam in his eye; could feel the flutter in his chest as he split it open, tentatively revealing his heart to you. 

“... I'd like to think you would have mentioned it,” you answered after a moment, “but I know you better than that.” 

Zuko grinned; you watched the curve of his cheek as it swelled with the action. 

“I might have mentioned it,” he murmured, his voice lilting with a gentle mirth. “Just not to you.”

“Of course not,” you teased. You mirrored his smile, easing into him as his foot began to stroke against your ankle once more. “Either way, I know you don't love me.” 

“And why is that?” Zuko whispered. 

“Well… you never write to me about anything exciting,” you replied. “You always seem so content to write to me about your thoughts, or what plays you've seen recently, or your conversations with Iroh. You never tell me about the impressive, world-altering Firelord stuff or your incredible exploits as a warrior.” 

Zuko smirked, raising a hand to brush some hair away from your face. His fingers were calloused and lukewarm, tracing over your temple with consideration and care. 

“Why else?” 

“You've never tried to kiss me,” you noted, “or touch me like a lover. You never try to push our boundaries past anything that's comfortable for us. Even right now - I'm laying in your bed, but you refuse to touch me in a way you're unsure of.” 

“Then you don't love me, either,” Zuko added. His body had gravitated flush to yours, your legs braided together under the pile of blankets you'd buried him in. “You only want to sleep with me when you're cold. You could just as easily call a servant for help.” 

“And you only want to keep me warm out of obligation,” you agreed. “It wouldn’t make you look very good if I died of hypothermia on your watch.” 

For a long moment, Zuko gazed at you. You basked in his silence, the easiness of his form so close to yours, the native feeling of his arm around your waist and his breath tickling your cheeks. The fire snapped quietly in its hearth, its flames rising and falling in time with his inhales and exhales. 

“I’ve missed this,” Zuko admitted in a whisper. “Laying with you. I wish we could do it more often.” 

“I’ve missed it, too,” you affirm. “I always used to sleep better with you.” 

“And that’s it?” Zuko teased. 

“That’s it,” you giggled back. 

He chanced a kiss to your forehead, pressing his lips between your brows and letting them linger there, savoring the coolness of your skin. You shut your eyes, giving yourself entirely to his touch. 

“In the new year… do you think we could be lovers?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“... I think your uncle is right,” you murmured. “I think we already are.” 

With a faint, bashful smile, Zuko pulled you closer (if the act were even possible), hugging you tightly to him; you held him close, pressing the whole of your body to his and soaking in his steady, comforting warmth. As the wind howled outside, shaking the flimsy wooden eaves of the feeble shelter around you, you fell asleep in the heat of his fireside, safe in the knowledge that his arms held you. 

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[chosenimagines]

Happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?

Universe: (H) Criminal Minds

Summary: The Team has to go to Las Vegas (Nevada) for a case. They are earlier done than expected and decided to go out together. But something unexpected happens. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! Doesn’t it? (Reader is named Jasmine)

Used Prompts: -

Warnings: Alcohol, getting drunk, mentioning of sex

Language: English

Request: Yes/No

Request: Can I request a image for Spencer Reid We’re Spencer and reader  go to Vegas for a case with the team and the case and early so they go out and they get drunk with the team they wake up in the hotel room together they have rings on their finger and they’re married they don’t want to get divorced so they stay married and when they come back the team wonders why they have wedding rings And they try to hide that stuff they are married but they get caught you can fill in the rest (by hyialover)

Requests [Open]

A/N: Thank you very much for your request @hyialover I enjoyed writting it! Enjoy <3

This One Shot/Imagine can be found as well on my Wattpad ^^ My requests are open on Wattpad and Tumblr

🖊️    🖊️    🖊️   🖊️

____________________________________________

“I don’t know what you think” Prentiss holstered her weapon. “but I don’t want to go back to the jet just yet! I think that we should go out this evening.”, she suggested. 

The idea immediately found approval within our team! Even though I wasn’t a big fan of crowded bars I wasn’t averse to go out tonight. We worked hard the past few days and closed the case earlier than expected. Nobody deserved a relaxed, free night with their friends in a bar more than the BAU! The events of the case had been disturbing enough. Why not get out and have fun? Playfully I nudged our youngest member. “How is it, Dr Reid? Do we get some Vegas-insidertips? Where can we get some drinks in peace?”, I wanted know with a big smile on my face. Blood rushed into his cheeks. Reid’s mimic was flooded with the expression of panic. Immediately I was sorry for asking him! I accidently stroke a chord. Of course I knew that our Reid was nobody who went out but I thought that he might have heard of some bars or clubs who are good. Obviously not… “I don’t know-” But Reid didn’t get the chance to explain himself or to end his sentence. “Reid! You can’t tell me that not one bar comes to your mind that has a good reputation. You lived here! How is it possible that you don’t have a clue?” That was the start of a big squabbing between Morgan and Reid. What did I do? Laughing I shook my head and pushed the squabblers out of the door of the department.

“Now listen to me, pretty boy!” Morgan put his arm casually around Reid’s shoulders. Then his other hand made dissolute move. “Frow now on you can say that you know a small bar in Vegas which isn’t crowded. If you ever go out with a woman here in Vegas you can suggest that you two go into Blues!”, Morgan said and patted his best friend on his shoulder. Reid didn’t seem to feel very comfortable. I couldn’t tell if it was what Morgan said that made Reid uncomfortable or something else. But there was to be nobody in the bar who seemed to be dangerous. That’s why I’d go with option 1. While Morgan continued to give Reid Dating Advice I winded through the room behind the team. We were aiming for one of the tables standing by the wall. The tables at the wall were surrounded by a square bench on three sides. On the top of the table which was facing towards the room were placed two chairs. On one of those tables all of us would fit around it. The seconde we have sat down Rossi stood up again. “The first round is on me!”, Rossi announced what made Morgan listen. “That’s what I like to here!”, he answered. “I’ll take a Whiskey.” “For me a coke please!”, Reid and I said in the exact same moment. That brought Garcia into the conversation. “No way!”, she yelled outraged. As a profiler I should have expected that from her. But I didn’t see that coming and flinched after her heavy reaction. “No way! I didn’t fly with you to Vegas to not party appropriately. Nobody here will drink something non-alcoholic in our first round! I will not let this happen. Under no circumstances.”, Garcia made clear. I gave up immediately. It was useless to fight against Garcia and a small drink was okay. After that one drink I could go over to drink coke. But Reid had to be convinced more than me. After a few minutes Morgan and Garcia managed to get our young doctor to get one alcoholic drink.

One drink? Good one! One drink became two and before I realized it was nobody left at our table who wasn’t at least tipsy. Giggling and laughing we were sitting with each other. Our conversations were on the scale from philosophical to absolutely senseless! Whoever came across our table wouldn’t think that there were sitting eight smart people who work for a successful unit of the FBI. But in this moment, we weren’t agents of the FBI, but we were some normal people who visited Las Vegas and had a good time with their friends. “Hey Jasmine!” Reid nudged me giggling. In doing so he was a bit clumsy, but I thought it was cute. “Yes, Reid?”, I giggled. Why did I find it so amusing that he talked to me? There was no reason, but I was still laughing. It doesn’t matter! Reid wanted to ask or tell me something and I was curious. “I want to show you my city! Do you feel like it?”, he mumbles. A soft pink spread across is handsome face. He was so cute! Man, I really liked him. “Of course! I am already excited.” Reid took my hand and pulled me gently out of Blues.

An enjoyable warmth tingled my nose and chased away the last bit of my will to continue to sleep. Yawning I opened my eyes. I stretched my body while sitting up. My head was buzzing, and every muscle of my body seemed to hate me today personally. I obviously had had one drink too much! Never again. I would never again let Penelope convince me to get one drink. I should have known that it couldn’t go well and that she wouldn’t stick to only one drink. One was always wiser after the event! I pressed my hands into the mattress to push myself up to stand up. But I saw something in the corner of my eye. Or somebody… “REID?!”, I gasped louder than I wanted to. That couldn’t be true! I- I- I shared- I shared a room with Garcia! Spencer should be sleeping next to Morgan! In HIS room and not in mine. Quick I looked down my body. Thank God! I was clothed. That meant we haven’t had sex. Not that the though of having sex with Reid was disgusting but drunk sex destroyed some friendships, and I couldn’t risk it. I just liked Reid way too much! Relief flooded my body. We probably stumbled after our little tour into my room and fell asleep. In the same moment something on my left ring finger sparkled in the sunlight and the relief faded away immediately. On my left hand was a modest ring. Wait! A ring? I didn’t own any rings! But I wore one on my finger. On my left ring finger. Left ring finger… LEFT RINGFINGER! The scales fell from my eyes. But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. To prove my hypothesis, I grabbed Spencer’s left hand what made him groan. While Reid slowly woke up I scrutinize his hand. Indeed! He wore a ring as well which looked exactly like mine. Like me Reid had it on his left ring finger. That could only mean one thing! “What’s the matter?”, Spencer mumbled, and I didn’t miss how lovely his sleepy voice sounded. In that seconde the memories of the past evening came back. I had most assuredly when the memory past my mind’s eye. “Reid, don’t get scared but I believe that you and me got married…”, I broke the matter to him. Suddenly Spencer sat up straight and appeared right awake. Without a word he grabbed his phone. Just a moment later he pressed it against his ear. “Hello! My name is Dr Spencer Reid. I work for the FBI and I want to get some information about Jasmine Morris. Her date of birth is September 17th 1980! Come again please?” Reid curled his lips. “Okay, thank you very much! In that case I was talking about Jasmine Reid. Anyways thank you! Have a good day.” He hung up and looked at me. “We are married.”, he said. I pointed at his hand. “Your hand could have told you the same story.”, I replied. Reid locked at the ring but quickly moved his eyes at me again. “And what are we doing now?”, he asked. I sighed and leaned on the wall at the headboard. “We have two options.”, I answered. “We divorce or we don’t divorce.” I knew that I stated the obvious but saying it out loud gave it another impact. I knew what I wanted but I first needed to know Reid’s thoughts. Based on them I am going to decide! “That may sound crazy, and I can totally understand if you don’t want that.”, Reid hemmed and hawed. “But if I am being absolute honest, I don’t want a divorce!” My eyes widened. I didn’t expect that! “Why?”, I asked. He swallowed hard. “I like you, Jasmine. I don’t like you like Morgan likes Garcia. I like you more likely like Hotch likes Hailey.” Now I saw! “That’s good.” I tucked my messed-up hair behind his ear. “Because I like you exactly in that way!” “No divorce?” I grinned. “If it is okay for you that I have your last name?” Reid smirked as well. “I imagined this differently but I am not taking it back.”

Infront of jet I stopped and pulled Spencer’s sleeve. There was one thing we haven’t talked about yet! “Are we going to tell the rest?” Reid stopped as well. “I don’t know.”, he confessed. “When we tell them how this happened Morgan is going to tease us for weeks.” “And Garcia would be offended, because she wasn’t with us.”, I added. We agreed right of the bat. We wouldn’t tell them but we would tell him soon that we are a couple. Then we would move and a few months later we would have a wedding like party and nobody would know how we really got married. It would keep us from embarrassments and accusations! It was a win-win. In good conscious we entered the plane and put our stuff away. We hardly sat down when the plane took off.

“Jasmine, since when do you wear a ring?”, JJ wanted to know. Surprised I looked up. “Come again?”, I asked. I was only listening with half an ear. “I wanted to know since when you are wearing a ring. I’ve never seen one on your hand before.” Casually I waved it off. Then I noticed that Reid was getting nervous. “I bought it Vegas. It was a mistake which was caused by the alcohol. Thanks, Garcia, by the way!”, I commented while I kicked Spencer underneath the table. He was being more than obvious! “I actually don’t like rings but now that I have it, I can wear it.”, I explained. JJ swallowed the lie and I continued reading. “Wait a minute, princess! Eyes up again. How is it possible that you and Reid are wearing rings which look so much alike and look suspiciously like wedding rings-” Morgan broke off. “YOU’VE GOT MARRIED DRUNK IN VEGAS!”, Garcia screamed. I looked at Spencer amused. “So much about we won’t tell them.”

[farfromparker]

♛ Sovereign | t.h.

♛ Summary: Tom offers you something you never knew you wanted, himself.  ♛ Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader ♛ Warnings: explicit smut featuring sub!Tom ♛ Word Count: 6.8k ♛ Notes: It’s been three months but our lovely sub!Tom is back! I’m really excited to share this one with you guys, feels good to be writing again! As always, feedback is appreciated and encouraged!!

Special thanks to @worldoftom​ 💖

“I love you two, ya know that?” Harrison calls from your couch. 

You smile at your reflection in the mirror, applying a good cover of mascara. Putting on the finishing touches in preparation for a night of debauchery or an acting audition. It all depends on how Harrison’s meet up with an online match plays out. 

“Shouldn’t one of us stay back in case you need an emergency call to get out of it?” Tom asks, sprawled out on your bed. 

“Nuh uh,” you interject, popping out of your bathroom to look at Tom directly. “You are not leaving me alone with this. If he’s into this guy I am not going to be left alone at the bar while they hook up in the bathroom.”

“Hey!” Harrison calls out. 

“Am I wrong?” you call back. 

“Well — no, but if you could not be so blunt about it I’d appreciate that.”

Tom laughs. “Alright,” he sits up, “but know I’m only doing this for you, love.” 

You blow him a kiss before turning back into your bathroom to finish up the last little stitch of makeup. 

Another minute or two and one last adjustment of your top and you flick off the bathroom light. You walk back out into your bedroom and grab your purse off the bed. 

Tom stands up and smiles at you, “You look stunning.”

There’s a bit of heat that settles on your cheeks, “Thanks Tommy.”

He goes to move past you, brushing his hand along the small of your back. “You’re welcome, Miss,” he whispers, and your body goes stock still. You turn to look at him and he’s smirking, a devilish glint playing in his eyes. And your drunken conversation, nay confession, to him last week plays over in your mind. 

You groaned, falling back onto Tom’s sofa. 

“What’s up, love?” Tom asked, offering you another drink, your fifth of the night, as he settled down next to you.

“I miss sex Tommy,” you said, taking a long sip of your drink. 

Tom coughed quietly from his spot opposite you. “Oh? What about that lad last month? Uh Nick? Brad?”

You shook your head, dismissing the name of a recent, random hookup, “That was just sex. I miss… sex my way.” 

Tom licked his lips, shifting on the couch to turn towards you more, “Your way?”

You copied him, wetting your own lips. “I like to be in control.” And the alcohol coursing through your veins was enough force to keep you talking. “I like to dominate. I want a pretty boy on his knees for me, I want him begging and whining and whimpering for me. I wanna call him baby boy and puppy and pet and I want him to call me Miss. I want him to be mine.”

Tom watched you talk, hanging off every word, absolutely mesmerized. 

“I wanna tease him, I wanna edge him and play with him. I wanna choke him. I want him to beg for me to let him cum. And before I let him cum maybe I’ll ride his face first, or sit on his cock and then after I’ve cum I’ll finally let him cum, watch him make himself all messy for me. Cum all over his stomach, cock wet from me. and then maybe I’ll — maybe I’ll lick it up and push my tongue into his mouth. Make him taste his own mess.”

He licked his lips and adjusted himself, an action lost on you. You took another drink before glancing at him. His face was flushed. He swallowed harshly, grabbing his own drink to wet his dry mouth. 

“Wow,” he paused, trying to find the words. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, “that might have been more than you bargained for.” 

He chuckled, clearing his throat, “Nope. We just got that much closer is all. It’s fine, good. All good.” 

You’re left reeling a bit because he most definitely just called you Miss and most definitely remembers the situation in which you said you want to be called that. But he’s out in your living room now, leaving you to your own thoughts. 

Harrison calls out your name, “You ready?”

You shake your head, one big deep breath in and push Tom’s comment out of your mind. “Coming!”

♛*♛*♛

The bar is loud, there are people all around you. Bodies ebbing and flowing to the beat like the ocean against the sand. It’s hot but not uncomfortably so. You’re enjoying the liveliness, the noise, the commotion. You can’t hear yourself think in here and somehow through it all, it’s the quietest you’ve felt in a long time. 

Tom is close. You can feel his hand hovering along the small of your back to keep you near him. You take turns shouting into the other’s ear, trying as best you can to carry on a conversation over the music. 

Harrison is still within your sights, grinding and kissing and it’s safe to say your acting skills won’t be needed tonight. You smirk as you glance in their direction. Happy for him. 

And so that left you and Tom. Your best friend, your partner in crime, your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. Sweet Tom. Lovely Tom. Gorgeous Tom. Sexy Tom.

You shake your head as your brain catches up with the thoughts the contents of your glass are riling up inside your mind. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus again. Best friend Tom. Smart and silly with a heart as big as an ocean, just as deep as well. Beautiful Tom, his warm chocolate brown eyes, his broken nose, his messy eyebrow, his pink lips... 

His strong shoulders, firm stomach, gentle hands…

The same gorgeous man who called you Miss mere hours ago...

Stop. 

He’s pressed into you, breath in your ear, hand firmly placed on your hip now. Your skin feels hot. 

“Might need to catch a ride back to yours, love,” he says and there’s an uncontrollable shiver that runs up your spin. He pulls back to look you in your eyes, smirking and he tilts his head towards Harrison. Your eyes linger on his lips for a second, the alcohol making the delay longer than socially acceptable. He notices. You pull your eyes away and find Harrison again, lips locked, hands roaming and he’s definitely getting lucky tonight. 

Your free hand finds Tom’s stomach, hand sliding gently until it comes to rest in the dip of his waist. He turns into you easily. 

“Course Tommy, there’s always room at my place for you.”

There’s a flirty tone to your response. Maybe it’s a result of the alcohol, maybe it’s a result of the song playing over the speakers, a deep, rhythmic tone. Or maybe it’s a result of the way Tom had reacted when you touched him. His stomach muscles flexing, body turning towards you, fingers squeezing at the band of your jeans to pull you just that much closer. 

And that’s when you realize his hand is under your shirt, when did that happen?

His thumb bumps against the skin of your lower back, gently, rubbing soft circles and your vision is starting to blur, but it’s got nothing to do with the drink in your hand. 

You set that same drink down on the bar behind you, it’s not even the slightest bit important anymore. You look at him, staring into his eyes and asking a silent question. His gaze drops to your lips and that’s enough of an answer to take this forward. You reach for his hand and take his drink, placing it down next to yours. You reach your hand up for him and trace his jaw, ghosting along his smooth skin. He’s looking back into your eyes now. You hook your pointer finger under his jaw and let your thumb rub against his bottom lip. You glance down, watching as his mouth pops open slightly for you, the way his lip moves under your touch. You drag your thumb a little more roughly, pulling at his lip some and getting it wet from his spit. Then you bring your forefinger up to trace his top lip before letting it fall gently into the open space his lips have created. He opens wider as an invitation and you push your finger inside. You glance back up at him and his eyelids flutter, lips locking around your digit and as your thumb traces his cheek, he starts sucking. He uses his tongue tentatively, swirling around your finger and does his best to keep his teeth out of the way.

You smirk, eyes hooding as you focus on the feeling of his mouth. Your own tongue pokes out to lick along your bottom lip. 

Good boy. 

Someone knocks back against you suddenly, pushing you off balance. You pull your hand back to steady yourself against his chest and he automatically grabs at you as well, bringing you impossibly closer. 

He looks at you, “You alright?” he shouts over the music. 

Nodding, you simply respond, “Let’s go.” You reach down and grab his wrist, guiding him through the mess of people. He twists his hand so that his fingers lock with yours and you can feel his presence along your back as you wade through the crowd. 

You push the door open and the cool air hits you as you step out onto the street. The cold only spurs you on, reigniting that desire you had back inside. You pull your phone out quickly, desperate to get home. You find a ride relatively quickly and request it. 

There’s a small group of people outside the pub, smoking and bantering. They don’t pay you any mind. You stuff your phone into your back pocket and turn to Tom.

“What about Harrison?”

Tom shakes his head, “He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine.” The answer is firm. 

Your lips curl up into a smile and you step into his space. You can still feel the ghost of his mouth around your forefinger, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, the look in his eyes as you watched. You can still feel the tacky remnants of his saliva on your skin. 

You bring your hand up to cup his jaw. “I’d like to keep pushing, Tommy.”

His face goes a little slack, mouth parting slowly, eyes turning dark and stormy. He nods, seemingly a bit lost for words. 

You however, say exactly what comes to mind. “Good boy.”

And he whimpers at the praise. The sound sends an electric spark down your spine, igniting a fire deep in your belly. You drag your hand down around his throat, taking it slow so he has enough time to register your intent and tell you no. He doesn’t. You press your pointer finger and thumb along the column of his throat, high under his jaw and squeeze at his pulse points. You can feel the hammering inside his veins, a frantic drumming beat. He moans your name. 

Someone calls out to you and you startle, shaken out the haze of lust once more. Your hand falls away from Tom. Turning, you find your driver with an awkward expression on his face. 

You smile, a faint feeling of heat settling on your cheeks from being caught. You link your fingers with Tom’s and pull him into the back of the car, helping to navigate the driver back to your place. Tom fidgets next to you and it isn’t until your hand comes to rest high on the inside of his thigh that he finally settles. 

He clears his throat, leaning in closer to you so you can hear him clearly over the dull thrum of music playing through the car speakers. “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

You pull back so you can find his eyes in the dim neon glow from the front counsel of the car. He looks back at you, gaze as confident as the statement was. You study him, this beautiful man, your best friend, a man you absolutely love, willing to submit to you. Willing to give into you, to trust you with himself so fully. 

He licks his lips, a movement that brings your attention back to him, here, now. He chews on gently before adding the ending affirmation to his confession of submission, the words you needed to hear. “Whatever you want, Miss. I’m yours.”

Arousal surges through your veins as you stare into his eyes, consuming every inch of your body. Your hand on his thigh moves up to cup him through his jeans, you can feel the bulge, feel how hard he is already. His eyelids flutter closed as you touch him and you grin. 

“So hard already, baby boy?” 

“Fuck,” he breathes, hips flexing up into your palm. “So fucking hard.” He opens his eyes, staring back, “All for you.”

“Darling, we’ve barely begun,” you purr, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. You kiss along his throat gently, teasing little kitten licks and the soft press of your lips. 

He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, head falling back into the headrest. “You’re gonna kill me,” he chuckles, “you know that? I could cum right now, honestly. And if you want to do to me — like what you said last weekend? I’m fucked.” 

Your mind runs wild with possibilities but you do your best to mask your excitement, biting your lip as the car comes to stop outside your place. A quick thanks to the driver and you’re pushing Tom out the door and up to your flat. 

You secure the lock behind you once inside and push him up against the door. The lighting in your apartment is a stark contrast from the neon hues of the club and the darkness of the car. There’s no hiding here. 

“You sure?” You ask, hands on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat.

He looks at you, unblinking, not even a hint of hesitation on his features. “I want this. I want you.” 

There’s a heavier meaning behind his last statement, something that’s been there between the two of you for a while. It makes your heart sing. 

You beam, letting the reality of this start to consume you, “Good. Me too… so much. But if there’s anything I do that you don’t like — that you don’t want to do, just tell me. I’ll stop, no questions.” 

“Yeah, got it. I’m not worried though, I trust you.” 

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much so you kiss him instead, deeply. His lips are warm and soft and they glide against yours easily. His tongue moving and rubbing against yours. He still tastes like the beer he was drinking at the bar. It all feels like the start of something, so perfectly the beginning of a chapter that you’ve both been waiting for. 

When you pull back he’s blushing, shy and unable to meet your gaze. He clears his throat, moving forward from the door just an inch or two. You move with him, your hands falling from his chest to hang at your sides as you watch him. He looks up at you quickly before staring back at the floor and slowly he sinks down to his knees. He bows his head, and you take another step back, one that allows you to see him better. His hands fidget in his lap for a moment before he links them behind his back. 

He licks his lips, “Miss?”

Fuck.

You go forward towards him one more, threading your fingers into his hair so you can pull his head back and he’ll have no choice but to look at you. “So pretty,” you coo. “My pretty boy.” 

He whines, “Yeah, fuck. Yes I am. I’m yours.”

You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, enjoying how he leans into your lips. “C’mon pretty boy, let's take this to the bedroom.”

He stumbles over himself trying to get up fast enough. You chuckle as you walk down your hallway, letting your hips sway in a bit more of an exaggerated fashion. 

You flick on the lamps by your bed and turn to find his eyes trained on you, waiting with bated breath for your guidance. Your hands miss the heat of his body so you beckon him over to you, letting your fingers find their way underneath his shirt to feel his skin, feel the goosebumps erupt across his stomach. You push his shirt up and off and he moves willingly, discarding it on the floor. His own fingers quickly join yours as you work on getting him out of his jeans as well.  You push them down his legs and as he kicks out of them, your lips find his. While the first kiss was tender and sweet and everything a first kiss should be, this one is the direct opposite. It’s needy and hungry and possessive. His mouth opens to you, tongue pressing against yours frantically as you push him back against the wall. Hands finding purchase along his hips, shoulders, neck, hair, arms, anywhere… everywhere. 

He’s groaning against you, a low rumble that makes your clit throb. His hand is on your jaw while the other is digging into your hip. You pull back unexpectedly with a loud smack of your lips against his. He tries to follow, a soft plea of no leaving his lips that you're sure wasn’t a noise he meant to make out loud. 

“Oh puppy,” you purr, a sneer cracking across your face as he whines. You study him, his normally warm eyes are blown wide, thin lips red and swollen, hair messy from your hands raking through it. You trail one finger along his stomach, below his navel, tilting it so it’s more of a drag of the nail than the fingertip, until you reach the band of his underwear. Teasingly slowly, you dip in under the elastic. “Why don’t you take these off and settle down against the headboard, yeah?” 

He swallows, “Yeah.”

You step back so you can watch, eyes traveling every inch of his body as he pushes the elastic down slowly, watching your reaction to him. 

You glance up at his face, “Go ahead Tommy, let me see you.”

He rolls them down his thighs gingerly, until his cock springs free. One final quick tug and they’re down around his ankles. He steps out of them, fingers rubbing at the skin on the outside of his thighs as he stands there in front of you, completely exposed. You bite your lip and take your time admiring him, it is your cock now after all. And it’s as pretty as the rest of him, perfectly thick, a good length, veiny, and he’s hard enough that his foreskin has rolled back. His tip is pink and wet and you can feel your own wetness begin to pool in your underwear. 

He’s nervous, standing there under the weight of your gaze, looking for your approval. “Just as fucking perfect as the rest of you.” And he blushes a deep red from his chest up his neck to the apple of his cheeks, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Now, on the bed, darling.”

“Yes, Miss.” 

He settles down in the middle of the mattress, resting against the metal headboard and watches as you dig out soft bondage rope from the bottom drawer of your dresser. His eyes go a little comically wide and you come to sit next to him on the bed. Grabbing one of his wrists softly, you place the rope in his hand so he can feel it. 

“We don’t have to. I got a little eager, but we can wait.”

His fingers curl around the rope curiously. “What — uh what did you want to do with it?”

“Tie each wrist individually toward the two corner posts of the headboard.”

He looks down at the rope again, fingers still rubbing along it before he glances to each corner post. He sets the rope down and spreads his arms, looking at you he asks, “Like this?” 

You nod, “Exactly like that.” 

He considers it for another moment, a small blush creeping up on his cheeks again, “I — I like that idea.” 

“And,” you continue, deft fingers unraveling the rope and tying it around his left wrist as an example, “I use quick release knots.” You finish the knot and let him examine it for a moment. “That way, if you need me to stop, all I have to do is pull.” And you do, one quick tug on the end and the whole knot comes undone. “And you’re out.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, all hesitancy gone, “tie me up. Tie me up Miss, please.”

You chuckle, “My eager little puppy.”

And so you do. Keeping his wrists secure but making sure the knots aren’t too tight and that he’s comfortable. When you lean back and take him all in, the situation floors you. This is your best friend Tom, someone you’ve loved for years but now might actually be awakening the feeling of being in love with. And he’s tied to your bed, naked and hard and absolutely fucking stunning. Tan skin flushed with a red tint that deepens depending on what you do to him. His curly hair is messy from your hands. His lips are red and swollen from your lips. He’s hard and leaking against his stomach because of you.

“Fuck.” It’s the only word your mind can coherently string together in that moment because this is everything you never knew you wanted and now it’s all laid out in front of you for your own taking. 

He shivers under your stare, arms flexing as he pulls at his restraints just slightly and the fact that you aren’t on him yet is criminal. So you lean in, pressing your lips to his quickly first, a soft, sweet kiss of reassurance before you tilt his head to the side and drag your teeth down his neck. He moans as you start to suck on the skin at the junction of his neck, hands rubbing along his chest. You find his nipples, pebbled hard and as you bite down on his neck you pinch them, eating up the way he whimpers, the way his hips jolt off the bed. One last bite and you pull your mouth from his skin, resting in the crook of his neck, listening to his heavy breathing. His cologne is faint but you can still smell it. He’s completely enveloping all five of your senses. You slide your hand down his stomach and watch as his muscles move, his cock twitches as you get closer to it. And you can’t tease him, as much as you want to, you want to feel his cock as badly as he wants you to. 

You wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly and his head falls back. He swears, long and low, drawing the word out as you play with him. 

“Make such pretty noises, Tommy,” you praise. Enjoying the weight of him in your hand, how hard he is balancing out the velvety softness of the skin of his shaft. How hot he is, memorizing every ridge and vein along his length. Watching his foreskin roll back with the movement of your hand, as you continue to slowly milk pre cum from him. 

He gasps, “I’ve been thinking about this all week — well, fuck. A lot longer than that actually but like, ugh, what you said last weekend.” You pull your head out of the crock of his neck so you can look at his face as he continues. “I’ve been horny all fucking week. I’ve jerked off every night and it’s not enou— ”

He whines high in his throat as you twist your grip along his tip.”Fuck! Fuck it’s not enough. And I've been… I’ve been doing research. About what you said. And I —” his heavy breathing interrupts his thought process. “I want to be good for you. I — I wanna be yours.”

He looks at you then, locks and holds your gaze. “Can I? Can I please be yours?”

Your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “Fuck. Tommy. Yes, I want you to be mine. All mine.” 

His eyes go wide, face softening as you give him the answer he needed to hear. “Thank you, oh fuck, thank you Miss. Shit. I’m gonna — gonna cum.”

You stop your movement immediately, grip loosening and you feel him twitch, hear the rattle of the headboard as he pulls on the ropes. 

“Fuck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body going taut as you deny him. 

“Baby boy, if you think you’re cumming before I get that gorgeous cock inside me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

His eyes snap open, “Oh fuck. I wanna be inside you, I wanna feel you, I wanna —” his arms flex against the rope once more, “Are you wet Miss? I wanna feel it, I wanna know I’ve been a good boy and made you wet. I wanna taste you. I want —”

You hush him gently, pushing back the hair that’s fallen across his forehead, “I know baby boy. And you have been so good for me already.” You emphasize this with a quick squeeze of his cock. He gasps, eyes never leaving you. You place a quick kiss to his lips before getting up off the bed. You strip, a little slower than normal, keenly aware of his eyes on you. Sliding your jeans down your legs before pulling your top off slowly. A quick pinch of your fingers and your bra loosens, straps slipping off your shoulders and you let it fall to the ground. 

“Fuck me,” he whispers, fingers curling into his palm as his eyes sweep over your body for the first time.  

You toy with the band of your underwear, pulling downward slowly from each hip before you turn around, bending over as you slide them past your ass and down your legs. The movement of your hands accompanies another jarring shake of the headboard and he’s swearing as he stares at you, bent over and showing him everything. 

“Miss. Fuck, I can see how wet you are. Shit… god I wanna taste you, I wanna feel you. Please Miss. Please.”

You stand back up and turn towards him, crawling onto the bed over to him. “So vocal, baby boy. I love it,” you murmur, moving to straddle his hips. You hold yourself above him, smirking when he tries to tilt his hips up to you only for you to move further away from his cock. 

“I’ve got the implant in,” you start, waiting for him to look at you. When he does, he nods, understanding what you’re saying. “Are you clean, Tom?” 

“Yeah,” he rushes out, “I haven’t been with anyone in a while and I always got tested afterwards.” 

“Good. Me too.” And with that you drop your hips slowly, settling his cock between your wet folds. He moans and it’s impossible for you to hold one in as well. His cock fits along your center perfectly. You slide along him, getting him wet and focusing on the tip of his cock nudging against your clit. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so wet,” he whines, biceps bulging as his hips start to move with yours. 

You smirk, leaning in to rub your lips against his, “So are you.” 

And you glance down, watching as his cock continues to leak onto his stomach, as he gets wet from you, foreskin rolling back with each movement from your hips as you rock against him. You lean in, capturing his lips with yours properly. He leans up and into you, moaning when you bite roughly along his bottom lip. You lift your hips off him, reaching down to get a hand around the base of his dick. He’s lost in the kiss, arching up into you, mewling but as soon as you start to sink down on his cock, he freezes. 

He pleads your name, breathing heavily against your lips, “Holy shit. I — you… fuck! You feel so good.”

“Baby boy, you sound like a virgin,” you tease, enjoying the stretch of his cock as he bottoms out inside you. You sigh, clenching purposefully around his cock as you reach down to start rubbing your clit.

He whines, head falling back against the headboard, “I fucking feel like one.” 

You chuckle, finding a rhythm with your hips, angling your movements slightly until his cock is rubbing exactly where you want him. You clench involuntarily and his name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper. He looks back at you then, watching you use him, ride him, finger slipping easily against your clit. 

He pulls at his restraints and you look at him, cocking an eyebrow to push him to voice what’s on his mind. He takes in a deep breath through his nose. “Miss, I wanna make you cum. I wanna be good for you. I want to — can I show you how good I can be? Please?”

You slow your hips to a stop, watching his body jolt as the friction on his cock ceases but stays buried deep inside you. You trail your fingers up his stomach, circling one nipple, then the other, “Yeah? And how are you going to do that, Tommy? How are you going to be good for me and make me cum?”

“My fingers, my cock. I want you to cum using your boy. But I should be doing the work. Please. I’ll be so good for you. So fucking good.”

You snicker, his eagerness and willingness to please is palpable. You consider him for a second longer and then give one single nod. You reach for his wrists and give a good tug, the quick release knots loosen and his hands are free. 

He goes to touch you but stops himself, “Can I, Miss?” 

Your clit throbs, so much so that you clench around his cock to try and ease some of the ache. He shudders as a result, muscles in his stomach and chest tightening. “Yeah, baby boy, you can.” 

He wraps an arm around your waist, moving to have you settle down on your back but doing delicate work to keep his cock inside you. He grabs at your hips and tilts them up a bit, the movement allows his cockhead to rub directly against your sweet spot. You moan quietly, a noise not lost on him and he starts thrusting, keeping them pointed and determined. He reaches for your hand, bringing it up to his throat and as you squeeze gently, he sucks his thumb into his mouth. He presses it to your clit expertly, letting it slide against you quickly while he fucks his hips into you. Every movement of his body is perfectly pinpointed on your pleasure. 

“Fuck, Tommy.” Your fingers squeeze gently against his pulse points. You reach your other hand up and thread it into his hair. You pull, bringing his mouth down onto yours. He steadies himself with a hand next to your head but doesn’t stop the movement on your clit, doesn’t slow the perfect drag of his cock inside you. He opens his mouth to you, lets you take what’s yours. 

You start tightening around his cock, can feel the heat building in your core and your mouth goes slack as your release approaches. 

“Yeah, please Miss, please cum, please let me make you cum,” he urges, his breath mixing with yours, lips so close they bump against yours as he talks. 

It swells like a wave, building momentum until finally it reaches its peak and breaks. Your body shudders, fingers tightening in his hair and Tom is close, thumb still against your clit, feeling you clench and flutter and it registers after a moment that you’re clenching around nothing. You gasp, fingers loosening some. You suck in a deep breath, doing your best to fill your lungs. 

Your go limp into the mattress and you open your eyes to see him staring in awe at you. You lick your lips as you rub his hair and let your fingers trail down his neck. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been picturing what you would look like when you cum, and my imagination wasn’t even close. Fuck, you’re amazing. Thank you for letting me be good for you.” 

You press your lips to his, “You were so good for me, puppy. Made me cum so fucking hard.” You take a deep breath in, body feeling more and more like jelly. You trail your fingers down his arms, feeling the smoothness of his skin, “You pulled out though…?” 

And he blushes, eyes dropping, unable to hold your gaze. “I was gonna cum, you felt so fucking good but you — well, you didn’t give me permission to...” he trails off.

There’s no fighting the devilish smirk this time. “Oh baby boy, such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” 

He smiles sweetly. “I try to be, Miss.”

“You are,” you affirm, pushing at his chest and moving with him as he settles back against the headboard once more. “So good for me. And good boys get their rewards.”

You settle down between his thighs, a wave of possessiveness washing over you as his legs spread automatically to fit you comfortably. You press your lips to his chest, lazily trailing kisses down his stomach, taking your time to nip and suck on his skin. His stomach muscles tremble under your touch and he’s making sweet little mewling noises as you move lower and lower down his body. 

You trace your tongue along the jut of his hip, raking your fingernails gently up along the inside of his thighs. He chokes back your name as you reach up and cup his balls. They’re heavy and full in your hand. You move to his opposite hip, marking his skin in a rougher way, determined to leave a bruise that he’ll see for days to come. 

His fingers are curled into your comforter, tendons prominent on the back of his hands as he squeezes and releases his grip. He’s babbling above you, a mantra of please leaving his lips. 

One lewd sucking noise and you pull away from his hip. Letting your hand fall away from his balls, you lean up and look at him. “Please what, puppy? What do you want?”

“Touch me, please. Please, Miss.” 

You splay your hands deliberately across his thighs, rubbing at his legs. “I am touching you, baby boy.”

He sobs, hips flexing up off the bed as you run your hands up his body, purposely staying away from his cock. “Use you words, puppy.”

“F-fuck! My cock, please. P-please touch my cock.”

“There,” you coo, “all you had to do was ask, Tommy.”

And finally you do, leaning back down to lick along the underside of his cock, flattening your tongue and dragging it up his length. He chokes at the first contact, chest heaving as he falls back against the headboard. His tip is dark red and leaking steadily. You envelop your lips around him, wrapping your hand around his base as you start sucking. You swirl your tongue, tasting the saltiness of your wetness and his pre cum on your tongue. 

He starts twitching underneath your touches, cock jerking in your mouth as you hollow out your checks. You start bobbing up and down, spit starting to coat his cock and make him sloppy. You pull off with a pop, letting your hand pick up where your mouth left off. 

“Love that your cock tastes like me, baby boy.” You growl, the slick noises of your hand around his dick echoing in your ears. “How it always should be, yeah? Your cock should always be wet from my pussy.”

He whimpers your name, panting as he looks at you. His body is taut, like the string of a bow. He’s practically vibrating, doing his best to stave off his orgasm for just a little bit longer. You watch him, his jaw clenches, sucking a deep breath in through his nose before he opens his mouth again. He sounds breathless. His eyebrows crease and eyelids flutter as you thumb his slit, collecting even more of his pre cum. 

“Wanna cum, Tommy?” you taunt, twisting your grip and watching as he shutters. 

“P-please,” he gasps, grip twisting even harder into your bedsheets. 

You stop the movement of your hand, moving in closer, feeling predatory as you glare at him, “Beg for it.” you demand, voice harsh and authoritative

“F-fuck, Miss, please can I cum? I want to so badly. Please, please Miss. Please… please make cum,” he whines, voice high pitched and broken. 

“Good boy,” you purr. You start to move your hand again but not at the speed he needs. “Go on, puppy, fuck my fist and make yourself cum.” 

He cries out, doing as he’s told, hips flexing and thrusting up into your grip. His muscles are defined and quivering as he moves. Moans getting shorter, choppier, whinier. He sounds wrecked and desperate and needy and bloody fucking beautiful. 

“There ya go, baby boy, cum for me.”

And he does. He freezes, body going rigid and you feel his cock pulse in your hand. He curls forward towards you as he cums, spilling across your hand and up his chest and stomach.You stroke him through it, listening as your name is a litany on his lips. He twitches as you milk every last drop of cum from his cock. 

With one long moan, he sags backwards, exhausted but completely sated. He’s still breathing hard, chest heaving and he looks up at you, “Fuck me.” 

You chuckle, leaning in to press your lips to his and kiss him lazily. You pull back, going to move off the bed but he grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?” suddenly sounding a bit lost. 

You smile softly, leaning in to kiss his check. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. And get you something to clean up with,” you say with a wink, motioning to his cum covered stomach. 

He goes a bit sheepish, grip loosening. “Oh, yeah — right.”

You come back soon after, washcloth in hand, and he cleans himself up quickly as you crawl back into bed with him. He tosses the now dirty cloth onto the floor and you giggle as he cuddles into your side, arms wrapping around your waist and pressing himself along your body. 

You scrape your fingers up into his hair, listening as he hums contently. “You mentioned something about research…” you trail off, leaving the statement open ended. His fingers squeeze at your skin. 

He fidgets against you for a moment or two, “Yeah I — well, what you told me last weekend definitely piqued my interest.” You move so that his face isn’t buried in your neck anymore and you can see him properly. His cheeks are red, a color that’s barely left his features all night, and you reach up to cup his jaw, rubbing your thumb along his cheek to encourage him to keep talking. He swallows, “And I’d been thinking about talking to you about how I felt about you. But then when you said that — I realized I didn’t really know what that all entailed. So I did some reading,” his gaze is dropped, focused on your collar bones instead of your eyes. “Articles and podcasts and forums. There’s also a whole mess of videos on Tik Tok? I just… I wanted it to be really good for you. I wanted to be really good for you.”

“Fuck, Tommy, you were. So fucking good. But you’ve really never submitted to someone before?”

He presses his lips together, finally glancing back up into your eyes, “No.”

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, “Well you could have fooled me, puppy. You were a natural.” 

He shivers at the praise, “Shit, I really like it when you call me that.”

You bite your lip, “I’ll remember that, puppy.”

And there’s that unspoken conversation about your feelings for one another. Something you’ll need to discuss at some point, but in the moment, it doesn’t hold the need to be explained, to be articulated because you can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, the intent behind his hands on your body. It’s the same intent your body language is telling him. And yes, one day you’ll discover just how deep those feelings go, but right now, there’s nothing more that needs to be said. Nothing that you both don’t already know.