#told her what had happened in the last month

[parfaitblogs]

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 

And then he was free. 

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 

You couldn't complain. 

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?" 

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 

"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?" 

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 

He liked to hear you. 

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 

"Touch myself?" 

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 

Thankfully, you didn't have to. 

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[muchosbesitos]

BODY PAINT

the plan for your birthday had been to just go get a tattoo. so how’d you end up getting eaten out too?

pairing: tattoo artist! geto suguru x fem reader

contents: modern au/no curses, pierced/tattoed geto, cunnilingus, pulling his hair, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it 🫵🏼), doggy, pet names (pretty girl, cutie, etc.), sucking his fingers, spanking (once), creampie, sorta kinda public sex?

author’s note: basically just a big self indulgence fic

word count: 5.8k

Portraits and portraits of art pieces covering the walls welcomed you as you stepped inside, the jingle of the bell perched on the front announcing your entrance. From dragons to variations of skulls—some with roses, lightning, and a couple of the grim reaper. You could easily lose yourself looking at all the different works, staring at how all the different lines came together and how the colors melded into one another.

“What're you looking for today?" A low baritone voice interrupted your brief exploration of the parlor. You turned to see a man standing at the counter with pigtails, a black line going across his nose and a couple piercings scattered across his pale face. How was it that you'd missed him upon walking inside?

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo, do you guys happen to accept walk-ins?" You responded, coming up to the counter where the man was standing. Choso, from what his name tag read. "We do, our current tattoo artist's busy though. You mind waiting about.. twenty minutes?"

You supposed it wasn't too bad after showing up without an appointment so you just simply nodded, going over to take a seat in the lobby. There was only one other person sitting on the end of the black sofa, their attention purely on the show playing on the TV mounted on the wall. You went from playing with your fingers to looking over at the TV, attempting to do anything that would make these twenty minutes pass by.

"Hey, go ahead and fill this out. And let me see your ID," Choso came back with a sheet of paper, a consent form. You fished for your ID in the back pocket of your jeans before handing it over to him, starting out with the task of filling out the paper. Signing your initials where it asked you to, reading through the different medical conditions that the paper explicitly listed out.

Your foot bounced against the floor as you waited, sudden nerves starting to hit you all at once now that you were in here. You knew that you wanted a tattoo, you'd been looking forward towards getting it for a few months now. But the little nagging voice inside your head told you that you could barely tolerate a needle at the doctor's office, and that was only for a couple seconds in of itself. How would you tolerate almost an hour of it?

A woman walked out from the back of the parlor, a tattoo of what seemed to be her birth year wrapped up in cling wrap. But your attention was quickly diverted to the man coming out after her—though, you supposed it would be hard not to stare at him. He was absolutely.. gorgeous. Long dark black hair that practically seemed to shine underneath the harsh lights tied back in a half bun, eyebrow and snake bites piercings accentuating the features of his face, and dark ink adorning his forearms.

"Here's the aftercare sheet, just shoot me a text or something if you have any concerns or anything," the man told the woman before she stepped away from the counter, handing her a white paper. The jingle of the bell echoed behind her as she left, leaving only the four of you alone in the lobby. Maybe this wasn't who Choso was talking about? You couldn't picture yourself or your panties for that matter lasting hours in a room with him.

Though, you probably should've expected as much with your luck.

"You got time for a walk-in?" Choso spoke up, nudging his head towards you when the other man was finished pocketing his tip. The man glanced over at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through it for a couple seconds. "Yeah, I got time," the other man walked over, standing in front of you before extending a hand out, "Geto Suguru." The coldness from the silver rings adorning each of his fingers was a stark difference from how warm his hand seemed to be. You gave him your name, stopping the handshake before it prolonged more than it should've.

More than it already did.

"So, what type of tattoo were you looking for?" Geto pushed his hands in his pockets, standing back to allow for you to get up from the spot. "I'm not too sure how to describe it, but I have a reference photo, if that's okay?" You told him, getting your phone out to go back to your camera roll. "Yeah, that's fine. Just airdrop to me when you find it."

The smell of antibacterial spray filled your nose as you stepped in, the room somehow been more decorated than the one outside. Geto had a couple of his designs up on the wall along with a couple band posters—Nirvana, Iron Maiden, and Led Zeppelin being some of the more prominent ones. A couple figures placed on a shelf, photos decorating them as well.  "Go on and take a seat. I'll be right there," he told you, opening up one of his drawers.

You took a seat on the leather chair in the middle of the chair, leaning against it before looking over to see what he was doing. "So.. how bad is it supposed to hurt?" You decided to ask, bracing yourself for the worst answer that he could give you. Despite the fact that you knew arm tattoos weren't all that painful from the two hours of research you'd done. "I can't give you a straightforward answer since not everyone has the same pain tolerance. But I'll walk you through the process before I start."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is shave your arm," Geto started off, opening up a pack of razors in front of you. Almost like he wanted to reassure you that everything he was using was new. "Around what area do you want the tattoo?" You opened your arm, gesturing around your inner forearm. Geto shaved the hair around the middle, wiping the residue away with a tissue.

"Next thing I'm gonna do is rub some alcohol on there and put on this cream," he brought up a small container into your line of vision, "It's not numbing cream before you get any ideas. Just so the stencil sticks." The rest of the process had gone relatively fast, the smell of rubbing alcohol filling up the space between the two of you. Geto placed the stencil on your arm, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. "Is this placement okay or do you want me to change it? Don't hesitate to ask, since y'know.. it is kinda permanent."

After a couple minutes of deliberation, Suguru placed the stencil where you’d decided. "So I'm gonna go ahead and put the needle on your arm just to go ahead and see if you can tolerate it," the machine whirred to life with the press of a button, "If you don't think you can tolerate it, just let me know and I'll wipe off the stencil." Geto turned around to face you, the buzzing of the tattoo gun getting louder the closer it got to your arm. All the nerves that you'd felt earlier seemed so silly now. While you felt the pressure of the needle , it was nothing like the excruciating pain you'd heard others have.

You cleared your throat before looking back over at him again, "Yeah, I can handle it." Suguru simply nodded, uncapping the bottle of black ink before almost filling up the small container in front of him. He arranged the small containers almost perfectly aligned to each other, the small work space that he'd set in front of him looking meticulous. Even the napkin that he'd grabbed was neatly folded up in three squares.

You'd almost wished that it was Choso doing the tattoo instead. Because, this, well this simply just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how he managed to look so goddamn pretty just doing the most menial of tasks. The almost intoxicating scent of amber from his cologne filling up your senses with how close he was. You weren't sure if was better or worse for you that he didn't notice just how affected you were, of how much his presence alone was making you want to ditch the whole idea of getting a tattoo.

"You need something to help you relax? I got a couple stress balls hanging around or I could play something on the TV if you want," Suguru sat down on the rolling chair next to you, already grabbing the TV remote next to you. "Can you just play something, please?" Geto flickered through a couple of the channels available, settling on what was on the TV mounted outside. Not particularly your first choice, but enough to get your mind off the tattoo, at least.

And to get your mind off the very attractive man next to you trying to do his job.

"So, any meaning behind this tattoo or you just decided you wanted to get it?" Suguru broke the silence, though his focus was purely on tracing the piece of work in front of him. "Just saw it on Pinterest and I related to it a bit. Well, that and the design itself seemed pretty to me," you offered, staying still and keeping your attention on the TV. "I can follow the design that you showed me or I could try to improve on it. That is, if you have trust in my abilities," he spoke up after a couple seconds, purple eyes almost seeming to bore into you.

"Can I see some of your abilities in place?" As hot as the man was—you didn't want to risk the tattoo coming out like complete dog shit. Suguru let out a short laugh, getting up from his spot before flipping through a couple drawers. He came back with a leather bound sketchbook, placing it on your lap. "I'm not much to show my works to others, but feel free to flip around if that helps you decide," you opened up the sketchbook with your available arm, immediately being greeted with a plethora of colors.

Not only were the pieces themselves better than what you could've expected, but they were so realistic. The shading of each drawing accentuating it perfectly against the lighting of the room, almost like he'd focused on that more than the actual drawing. You shut the sketchbook after flipping through a couple pages of different flowers, animals, and whatever else his brain could conjure up—handing it back to an expectant Geto. "It'd be wrong not to have faith in you after seeing that," you mused, watching him set the sketchbook aside before he went back to tracing.

"Don't worry, I'm still gonna follow the whole outline and shit. Just wanna make it look a little bit better is all," he responded, dipping the needle onto the container of black ink before bringing it back to your arm. You turned to look at much progress he'd done after the forty minute episode had ended only to realize he was just finishing up with the tip of the design. An incredibly detailed tip, though. "You okay? Don't want you passing out on me or anything."

"No, I'm fine," you reassured, going back to watching the TV in the comfortable silence that had built in the room. The only sounds emanating from the room were the soft whirring of the tattoo gun and the screaming of a couple characters on screen. "Have you watched this before?" You decided to break the silence after a while, turning to look over at him. "Something like that. Haven't watched much after the fourth season. Don't really have a buncha time available to watch TV."

The rest of the session had gone moderately well, the two of you sitting in silence for a majority of the time albeit for a couple questions that either he or you asked. He was, oddly enough, easy to talk to. "Okay, I'm gonna go in with a white paint. It's gonna hurt more than the other one so just tell me if it gets to be too much," he told you, pouring white paint into one of those small containers. And you felt the difference between the two, looking over to see him adding small marks with the white paint. Small marks that were starting to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Easy, you did so well for me throughout the session. This is nothing compared to that," Suguru spoke up, raising the tattoo gun to give you a small break. One of his gloved hands went to the furrow settled in your brow, gently easing it over before changing out the gloves for a fresh pair. You weren't even sure when you'd even started to grimace so badly. "Easy for you to say," you grumbled underneath your breath, certain that he wouldn't have caught it. But if the way his eyes shot up to look at you with a slightly amused smile was anything to go by, he did.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Geto muttered, turning the tattoo gun back on and going back to adding the fine white strokes. Maybe it'd been the fact that he'd offered that small bit of reassurance or maybe it was the fact that you could feel the session was starting to come to an end, but the pain didn't quite feel as bad as the first go. "Alright, we're all done," he spoke up after a couple minutes, turning the tattoo gun off and placing it on the table next to him.

"You mind if I get a couple pictures?" He waited for you to nod before setting up the ring light next to you, pulling his phone out. You extended your arm out to where he had the camera pointed, the tattoo on display. "Mm, hold on," Suguru muttered to himself, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist to adjust the angle. His touch almost seeming to linger more than necessary. Surely, all of this wasn't necessary just for a single photo, right? Especially when you weren't even the subject of said photo.

"You're gonna want to avoid shaving or waxing the area while it's still healing, some peeling's normal but just come to me if you have any concerns," he continued to explain the process of the aftercare involved, wrapping the tattoo up in cling wrap. "Try not to fuck it up," Geto led you over to the front desk, ringing you up for the price. "Wasn't it $120 and not $100?" You questioned, grabbing your wallet from your pocket.

"Consider it a birthday discount of sorts, pretty girl," the nickname spilled out so easily that you might've almost missed it. As if you needed more things to overthink about from this encounter. You handed him a hundred dollar bill with a ten dollar tip, giving him a short thanks before leaving the parlor. You looked over at the aftercare sheet that he'd given you at the counter, seeing his Instagram scrawled out in pretty decent penmanship. Well, at least you had plans for when you got back to your apartment tonight.

You knew that the tattoo was healing nicely—that you'd put the expensive ass ointment that Geto had recommended the designated three times a day. So why exactly did you find yourself standing outside the tattoo parlor once more? Out of concern for the new ink or just wanting to see Suguru once more? It couldn't be the latter, right? Not like you'd spent hours scrolling through his Instagram these last couple days to see what he'd thought about the tattoo. Definitely not the latter.

After all, he did say come to him if you had any concerns.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Choso to greet you at the counter this time around. Suguru was standing there, rearranging a couple pieces of body jewelry onto the glass display before he lifted his head to see who'd walked in the door. "You didn't let it get infected, did you? I spent hours on that thing," he didn't even bother with a greeting as Choso had done, already looking annoyed at the prospect. "Your concern for my health's endearing too."

"Yeah, yeah, what're you here for?"

"I just wanted to check up with you to see if the tattoo was healing nicely," the practiced lie slipped out of your tongue without any effort, plenty of rehearsals in your head allowing for it to slip out with any second thought.

"Alright, I have a couple minutes before my next appointment gets here," Suguru gestured for you to join him, opening the door for you. The space looked pretty much the same as the day you'd come in—which you should've expected, since it was only a week ago—albeit for a couple pencils scattered on top of a sketchbook in the middle of his desk. You took a seat on the leather chair, waiting for him to finish cleaning up his space.

Suguru grabbed a white box of gloves, grabbing a pair before placing them on. "So, what're you concerned about?" He questioned, long fingers running through your skin as he looked at how the tattoo was healing. "Well, it's been peeling a bit. I just wanted to know if that was normal or if I'm fucking something up somehow. I've been putting on the ointment you recommended three times a day."

Geto let out a small hum before leaning back on the rolling chair, folding his arms across his chest. His very muscular arms, the material of his black button down practically straining against them with the motion. "Your tattoo seems to healing well. Bit of peeling's normal as a new layer of skin comes in, nothing to worry about too much. Usually the area starts to get red if it's starting to get infected."

And maybe you should've taken that as a cue to leave. But you found yourself wanting to bask in whatever couple seconds that he would give you, unable to think about any other opportunities where you'd see him. Well, any other opportunities that didn't involve you spending upwards of a hundred dollars. You made no effort to move just yet, folding your hands over your lap. Trying to think of anything else to prolong this visit.

A couple moments of silence pass between the two of you before Suguru opens his mouth up to speak, only to get interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Yo, someone named Larue's here for their appointment," Choso called out from the other side, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Suguru gives you a glance before answering back, "Ask him to reschedule. Tell him that I'm sorry and I'll give him a discount or something."

Choso's heavy boots echoed against the floor as he walked away, leaving you alone with Geto once more. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you're doing here again? And don't lie to me, talking about some 'I wanna see if my tattoo's healing properly,'" And you almost rolled your eyes at the way he raised his voice in pitch, mocking you with a short chuckle. Almost.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. Second, I really did just come to see if it was healing properly," And despite your words, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the chair just yet. "So maybe I should go tell Larue to come back for his appointment. Since we determined your tattoo's healing nicely, our time's done," You would've thought that he was bluffing but he moved to get up from his chair, walking over to the door.

"Wait," you called out before he managed to turn the doorknob, looking over to see him already staring at you with an expectant look on his face. Like he was about five seconds away from telling you to get off the leather chair. "So maybe, there's a slight chance that I didn't just come here just because I was concerned about my tattoo," you muttered almost reluctantly, avoiding looking at him directly.

"And why don't you try telling me why you came here instead?" Suguru stepped away from the door, returning to his spot in the seat next to you. Where you couldn't avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. How would you even begin telling him that he's been clouding your mind since last week just from that three hour interaction? That you've refreshed his Instagram page more times than you could count to see what he'd say about the piece?

You gulped, willing for the words to come out before he got the chance to go back to the door again. But you couldn't. Couldn't bring yourself to the potential humiliation that would inevitably come if you had just been delusional about this all along.

"You here because you want me to fuck you?" And the words that you'd struggled to spit out, he'd just said them so bluntly. You were expecting for him to look at you with that same mocking smile from earlier, but he seemed to be genuinely analyzing you. Waiting. "No, no, of course, I was just here to.." You hadn't quite rehearsed for this part in your mind.

"Because if you were, then I'd say that I was thinking about you too, cutie," and before you had the chance to respond, he was already speaking again, "So I'm just gonna ask you again. Are you here because you want me to fuck you?"

Now that there was little chance of your advances getting rejected, the word slipped out so easily, "Yes."

"Go on and lay back for me. Wanna taste you," and by how quick he was to get on his knees in front of you, you'd guess that he was doing this for his pleasure more than yours. "Lift up your hips," you followed his words without hesitation, letting him slide your jeans off and place them to the side. Large tattooed hands spread your thighs apart, presenting you like a feast to the man before you.

And you would've felt some ounce of embarrassment for the wet spot that quickly built up in the middle of your panties in just the five minutes of being here—if it weren't for the fact that Geto's cock was already straining against the material of his jeans. "Mph, fuck!" Geto quickly pulled your attention back to the issue at hand, his tongue prodding against your clothed cunt. "Not so loud, you don't want Choso to hear us," he clicked his tongue, giving you somewhat of a relief when he pulled away.

A very short lived relief. His tongue traced the outline of your slick folds through the material of your thin panties, his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit, your cunt leaking out onto your underwear. You'd be lucky at this rate, if you could wear them back home. And almost like he'd read your mind, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

You waited to feel his tongue on your cunt again—but nothing came. You looked over at him, watching as he just observed your weeping pussy. "Thought you were eager to taste," you muttered, a scoff leaving from his lips. A gust of wind blowing to your cunt, your walls clenching all the much more. Eager to receive whatever he could give. "Let me admire for a bit. We got enough time," Suguru let out a small tsk after, his face in front of your cunt. And before you had the chance to say anything more—his tongue was already on your labia.

Your syrupy slick dripped onto his expecting tongue, his eyes almost rolling back at the taste. The small silver ball at the end of his tongue piercing flicked against your folds with every lick, each touch serving to have you clenching around pure air. Your hips bucked up to meet his movements, his large hands holding you down in mere seconds. "What'd I say? Let me enjoy this, pretty girl. Told you we got enough time."

"Such a tease," your grumbled words came out more breathless than you would've liked. "And you're so impatient," he retorted without missing a beat. A hushed whine escaped from your lips when you felt him pull away, his mouth moving to your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, nibbling down just hard enough for it to leave a mark behind. "Promise I'll take care of you, sweet girl. Have some trust in my abilities."

“You say that but your abilities have been less than stellar lately."

A couple dark locks fell out of place, framing his face almost perfectly. You'd almost expected Suguru to look offended at the implication of your words—but all he did was seem to find some kind of amusement. "Guess I'll have to repair that then," he murmured, more so to your cunt than to you, his tongue prodding in and out of your entrance. "You're not doing a g-Oh fuck!" He immediately made you swallow whatever retort you were planning, his tongue penetrating inside of you.

Suguru swiped his tongue up and down your cunt, the lower half of his face covered in a mixture of your slick and his own spit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his nose prodding against your clit with every swipe that he made. "Keep looking at me, pretty. Keep those pretty eyes on me," you opened your eyes to see purple eyes already looking back at you, resuming his actions all too greedily. He was so messy when it came to eating you out—spitting into your cunt, watching almost all too eagerly as you clenched around the liquid.

"Please," a whine left your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair. Whatever act of defiance you'd tried to put on earlier had quickly faded away, all you were feeling was need. An almost slutty moan left his lips at the sudden tug, one of his hands grabbing on to yours. "Come on, you can pull harder, can't you?" An even louder groan escaped his lips at the harder tug you gave this time around—the tips of your fingers digging into his scalp. "Now, what were you saying please for?" His words came out muffled, his face buried in between your legs. "Your fingers, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," Suguru took to that almost immediately, two long fingers pushing past the ring of muscle before curling to hit your g-spot. His mouth instantly attached itself to your throbbing clit, pushing through your clitoral hood to get to the bundle of nerves. "F-Fuck, don't stop, don't stop," you sounded like a broken record, your thighs pressing tightly against the sides of his face while his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," any other thought that you had apart from cumming had been quickly fucked out of you, your grip on his hair tightening even further. Not that Suguru minded by any means, moaning against your cunt with every tug. The vibrations only added to the dual stimulation, your back arching off the chair. Needing to get more. Pushing your hips against his face, bucking up to meet every swipe of his tongue. "Cum for me, princess, come on. You can do it, right?"

All you could do was nod, not wanting to be any louder than you already had been. Part of you had been surprised that Choso hadn't come by knocking earlier. Suguru continued flicking his tongue around your clit, working in synchrony with his fingers to pull your orgasm out of you. "Fuck fuck, gonna cum!" You weren't sure if your muffled moan made it's way into Suguru's ears, watching as he eagerly lapped up your release. Running his tongue across his lips, your slick making them glisten under the lights.

"Get on all fours," Suguru told you after you'd managed to regain your breath, deft fingers working to unzip his jeans. You got on your stomach, resting it against the cold leather while getting on your hands and knees. And if Choso were to come into the room to be quiet now, he'd get a spectacular view of your ass perched up in the air. Suguru ran his cock against your folds, your slick lubricating it with ease after your previous orgasm.

Ridges running down his shaft brushed up against your tight walls, your slick coating his tip like second nature the further that he pushed it in. Your walls clenched and unclenched rapidly in a futile attempt to get used to the pure stretch of his cock. "You can take it, right? This isn't anything," But the sheer girth of his cock was just enough to dispute that statement, the position making him feel much deeper than he was. "Yeah, yeah, I can take it," your voice came out as a mewl, your grip on the leather getting tighter the more he pushed his cock in.

The rhythm that he started up was fairly slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. Whatever he was lacking in length, he certainly compensated for it with the sheer size of his girth. Just a couple inches inside of you and he'd already stuffed you full. "Doin' so good, gonna speed up, okay?" He waited for you to nod, retracting his cock before pushing the full length inside of you with one sharp thrust. Your mouth went agape, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head upon the impact. "So good, so so good," even after a couple thrusts, he already sounded so obsessed.

"That's ittt, that's my girl. Fuck that ass back into me," A strangled groan left his throat at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling underneath him with every thrust, the two of you moving in tandem. One of the hands that'd been on your waist went to cup whatever he could of the flesh, all too entranced with the vision presented in front of him. "Mm, fuck!" A moan left your lips as you felt the palm of his hand strike against the flesh, your ass stinging from the impact. Not to say that you necessarily hated it, by any means.

And Suguru caught it—the way your slick ran down his shaft at the sudden impact. "Should've fucking guessed you would've liked it," his tone practically dripped in condescension as he spoke, his hand going to cup your other ass cheek. Holding the flesh in his hands before giving you another harsh slap, almost rivaling the harsh smack of his hips against your own. "Shit shit, Geto, don't stop," you whined, pushing your ass back into him. "Think it's okay for you to call me Suguru after bein’ inside you and all."

"Suck," a simple command, two of his fingers in front of your face. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting the remnants of your cum on them before letting it fall flat. Simply sucking on his fingers as his cock pushed in and out of you with such fervor. "Get 'em all nice and wet for me, just like that," Suguru pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth the second you started to get too loud again, tears building up at your waterline when you gagged on them. "Aw, don't cry, cutie. Y'know I had to."

And while his words were meant to be reassuring, the mocking tone of his voice was anything but. Spit dribbled down from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the chair beneath you. "Sugu-Sugu, fuck, right there!" He'd adjusted the angle of his hips, his shaft brushing up against your g-spot with every thrust. "So. Fucking. Tight," each of his words was accentuated with a deep thrust of his hips, filling you up impossibly so. Like he wanted to show you just how much he'd been thinking about it, like he claimed he did.

If the moans coming out of you weren't evidence enough as to what was happening in the room, then you were pretty much certain that the plap! plap! echoing through the walls was evidence enough. Geto's heavy balls smacked against your ass with every harsh thrust of his hips. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing at the nub just in time for it to match his pace. You clamped around his cock like a vice, a strangled moan leaving out of his lips. "Just had to tell- shit me that you wanted my cum, ma."

"Mph, cumm- I'm cumm-" Muffled babbles left your mouth, your cunt clenching around him yet again. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. Whatever small bits of concern about being too loud had been disregarded—loud squelches and skin clapping filling up the room as Suguru rutted inside of you. You turned your head to look over at him, the sight before you almost like something out of a painting. His hair had completely been released from the half-bun, cascading down his back perfectly and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.

Spurts and spurts of cum shot deep inside of you, his cock twitching as you milked him for whatever he could offer. Suguru pulled his softening cock out of your cunt, his cum starting to dribble out of you and down your thighs. With the same fingers he'd had inside your mouth, he pushed his cum back inside of you. Scooping the substance up with relative ease. Your body slumped against the chair, willing that Geto would give you a couple seconds to catch your breath.

You'd expected him to grab a wipe or a paper towel to clean you up with, but he simply got up from his spot behind you. Grabbing his pants off the floor and fastening up his fly. You looked over at him through half lidded eyes, seeing him pop the fingers that had previously been in your cunt into his mouth. Slurping at them in a similar fashion that you'd done just a couple minutes prior. "Wanna taste yourself, pretty girl? 'S so fucking good."

Geto didn't give you a chance to respond before he was leaning down to your level, one of his fingers underneath your chin to raise your head. He leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a messy exchange. More of spit getting intertwined than an actual kiss, not that you minded in your state. His tongue flicked against yours, the bittersweet taste of both you and him combined filling your tastebuds. Geto pulled away after a couple seconds, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You hadn't even finished putting on your pants yet when Suguru spoke up yet again,

"You mind giving me a five star review when you get home?"

[tanjamikaelson]

CAN FRIENDS KISS? | Rafe Cameron x fem!reader |

Summary: A long-time friendship between you and Rafe blurs into something more when he returns to the Outer Banks after months away. As buried feelings and fantasies surface, a party reveals jealousy and desire, leading to a night where boundaries are crossed, and the truth is finally spoken. In a moment of raw passion, both of you realize that being just friends was never enough.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, jealousy.

•°•°•°•°•

I'ma call you, I'ma hit your number

I'ma slow whine and make you wonder

Fantasies about you in my head, yeah

I know that we shouldn't, but

Can friends kiss?

Touch each other like this?

Under cover like this?

Little too close, play a Popcaan song

And my mind is gone like this

Teasin' on you like this

Put it on you like this

Little too close, play a Konshens song

And my mind is gone like this

•°•°•°•°•

It had been months since you last saw Rafe, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, the truth was suffocating—you missed him more than just a friend. You’d kept yourself busy, convincing yourself that it was nothing, but when you found out he was back in the Outer Banks, that facade crumbled. Before you could stop yourself, your shaky hands dialed his number, the ringing amplifying the tension in your chest.

“Hey,” his voice came through the phone, a comforting warmth that wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. It sent a ripple of longing through you, more intense than you expected.

Your voice wavered as you breathed his name, "Rafe." A beat of silence followed, and then, without intending it, the words tumbled out: "I missed you." It wasn’t just a friendly confession—it was heavy, laced with the feelings you had kept hidden. The kind that kept you up at night, replaying moments in your mind like an old film reel.

There was a pause on his end. You could practically hear the confusion in his silence. You had never said it like that before, never let the words carry the weight they did now.

“You missed me?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I was only gone for a few weeks.”

"A few weeks too long," you murmured, your voice quieter, almost lost in your thoughts, picturing his expression, the slight furrow of his brow as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. What he didn’t know, what you hadn’t told him, was how much you had been thinking about him while he was gone. Fantasizing, really. You knew you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts once they started.

Your heart raced as you imagined telling him as if the words were stuck in your throat. Could friends kiss? Could they touch each other the way you wanted to touch him?

“You’re acting different,” Rafe’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Something on your mind?”

You bit your lip. If only he knew.

One memory haunted you, especially now that he was back. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. Your mind drifted back to the last time you saw him. You’d been at a party, music pumping through the air, bodies swaying in rhythm to the beats of Popcaan. That night, you and Rafe danced, teasing each other like always, but something had changed. The way your bodies moved together, the heat that built between you—it had lit a spark inside you that refused to fade. You often wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped.

Fantasies of his touch, the way his hands felt when they lingered a little too long, how his eyes followed you when he thought you weren't looking. It shouldn’t be this way, not when you both knew the unspoken rule of your friendship. But your heart raced at the thought of pushing those boundaries. If you had just leaned in a little more, let him feel how much you wanted him. But you didn’t—at least not then.

•°•°•°•°•

I don't like your new girl, she don't move me

When you talk about her, I get moody

VVS1 icin' out my neck, yeah

I want it to drip, drip on your lips

•°•°•°•°•

A few days later, Rafe invited you to a party at his house. You told yourself you’d go just to see him, just to catch up like old times. But the moment you walked in and saw his hands wrapped around Sofia, something inside you twisted painfully. She was new. A stranger in your world, someone who didn't belong.

He noticed you almost immediately, a smile spreading across his face as he waved you over.

You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you walked over to him. “Hey Y/N, this is Sofia.” He introduced her casually as if it didn’t mean anything. But it meant everything. Your mood plummeted, jealousy clawing at your chest as you watched them stand together.

Sofia smiled sweetly, but you barely heard what she said, your attention fixated on Rafe. You reached up, touching the VVS1 diamond necklace that adored your neck. The diamonds sparkled under the dim lights of the party, catching his attention. You wanted him to notice. You wanted him to see you, not her.

You imagine the cool metal dripping onto his lips, erasing any trace of her. A bold fantasy, maybe, but it was all you could think about.

“I’ll catch you later,” You muttered, making an excuse to walk away before the bitterness in your voice betrayed you.

Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t have to compete with her. But seeing them together hurt more than you could bear. And you weren't the type to sit back and watch something slip through your fingers.

•°•°•°•°•

Come party, come touch my body

I'm a busybody, tick, tick, tick, tick

Come find me, come get behind me

•°•°•°•°•

You made your way to the dance floor in an attempt to distract yourself.

Your body moved instinctively, swaying to the pulsing rhythm, trying to drown out the image of Rafe and Sofia together. The alcohol was doing its job, dulling the sharp ache in your chest, blurring the edges of your jealousy. You let yourself sink into the music, pressing against faceless strangers, their presence offering a temporary distraction. Yet no matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in the crowd, you could feel it—his eyes on you, burning through the haze.

You didn’t need to look. The weight of Rafe’s gaze from across the room was undeniable, igniting a fire beneath your skin that no one else in that room could extinguish. When you finally glanced over, your eyes locked with his, and in that instant, everything else faded away. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like watching you with someone else, knowing that you were slipping through his fingers, teasing someone else with the same fire you had once reserved for him.

For a heartbeat, the world stopped. The thrum of the music, the blur of people moving around you—none of it mattered. It was just you and him, staring across the distance, the unspoken tension that had always simmered between you now bubbling to the surface. A slow, deliberate smile played on your lips. If he wanted to play this game, then so be it. You raised a single finger, curling it toward you in a silent dare. Come get me.

The guy you had been dancing with protested as you slipped away, but his words didn’t even register. Your mind was already fixated on one thing—Rafe. You needed him. His presence pulled you in like a magnetic force, and no one else in that room could compete. You crossed the space between you in a few steps, your heart pounding, and when you reached him, you leaned in close, your lips just barely brushing his ear as you whispered, “Come touch my body.”

It wasn’t a request; it was a challenge.

For a second, he hesitated, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes almost making you question everything. But then, his hands found your waist, strong and possessive, pulling your back flush against his front. The second his skin touched yours, it was as though the air crackled with electricity, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. He was close, too close, and yet not close enough. His breath was warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and you felt your pulse quicken as he spun you around to face him, the air between you thick with tension.

The crowd disappeared. The world was reduced to the heat between the two of you, the rhythm of the music aligning with the rhythm of your hearts. This wasn’t how friends looked at each other. This wasn’t how friends touched. The space between you was thick with unsaid words, with unspoken desire, and you were done pretending. When the music slowed, so did you, your body brushing deliberately against his, your movements slow, teasing.

The feel of him so close, the heat of his body pressed against yours, was intoxicating. Every inch of you burned with a desire you could no longer suppress. Your hips swayed in time with the music, deliberately pressing against him, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like the only person in the room. It was maddening, this pull you had toward him, the way you craved his touch like it was the only thing that could sate the need that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Wanna get out of here?” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, your voice breathless. It wasn’t just a question—it was an invitation. One you knew he wouldn’t refuse.

•°•°•°•°•

Go lock the door

Fall in love with me, I'm bored

We both know I'm yours

I can't do it anymore

•°•°•°•°•

His response was immediate, his hand sliding into yours as he led you through the crowd, away from the noise, away from Sofia. He pushed open a door to a quieter space, a room tucked away from the chaos of the party. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you, along with the tension that had been building for months.

Your heart raced, each breath coming quicker as you stood there, staring at him, the weight of everything unsaid between you heavy in the air. You knew this was the moment that would change everything.

“Lock the door,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

The anticipation was electric, a current of excitement buzzing beneath your skin as he crossed the room, locking the door with a final click that sent a shiver down your spine.

The silence between you stretched for a moment, both of you knowing what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, no going back to how things were before. The friendship you had clung to was a façade, one that had already started to crumble.

“I can’t do this anymore, Rafe,” you confessed, stepping closer. “I can’t pretend we’re just friends.”

The words hung heavy in the air, the final admission that shattered whatever boundaries had remained between you. His eyes darkened, his breath catching as the reality of what you said hit him. You were both teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something that once crossed, couldn’t be undone.

“I didn’t like seeing you out there,” he finally said, his voice low, rough around the edges with an emotion he couldn’t hide. “With those guys.”

A teasing smile tugged at your lips, but your voice was soft, full of a truth that neither of you could deny. “We both know I’m yours.”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the hesitation that flickered there for just a moment. But then, it was gone, replaced by the same burning need that mirrored your own.

•°•°•°•°•

This blue chiffon

Off, off, off, need it gone

More Radikon

And it goes on and on

•°•°•°•°•

Your fingers trembled as they toyed with the soft chiffon of your dress, the delicate blue fabric slipping from your shoulders with ease. The silky material cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet like water, leaving you standing exposed and vulnerable in nothing but lace underwear. The cool air of the room kissed your bare skin, a stark contrast to the fevered heat pulsing between you two. But at that moment, none of it mattered. You didn’t care about the chill, didn’t care about anything except the urgent need building inside you—craving him, needing him.

Rafe’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes darkened with desire, his breath shallow and uneven as he took in the sight of you. For a heartbeat, he seemed to freeze, as if the intensity of the moment was too much to fully comprehend. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance between you. His hands found your skin, gliding across it like they’d been aching for this moment forever, tracing paths of fire and wanting that made your whole body shiver.

Time seemed to blur as his hands wandered through your hair, along the curve of your spine, as though memorizing every inch of you. The air between you thickened, heavy with the weight of months of unresolved tension, as though the very room could feel the gravity of what was happening. His lips hovered near yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re sure?” His voice was rough, hesitant, though his need was palpable.

You answered him with a kiss, your lips pressing against his, soft at first, but quickly deepening as the tension that had been building for months finally exploded.

He kissed you back, harder, his hands tightened in your hair as you pulled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours, to erase the space between you.

In a blur of hurried, feverish movements, clothes were discarded carelessly, forgotten. The world outside ceased to exist. The only sound in the room was your mingled breaths, ragged and uneven, as you both succumbed to the intensity of what you had been holding back. He was on top of you, his lips trailing fire down your neck, leaving you gasping beneath him.

Your hand slid between your bodies, fingers curling around his hard length, and the sharp intake of his breath told you everything you needed to know. He had imagined this too, had craved it as desperately as you had. The need between you was raw, primal. You stroked him slowly, teasingly, until his grip on your arm tightened, a silent plea. He needed to be inside of you.

He teased your entrance, the head of him brushing against your warmth, making your body arch in anticipation. Then, with agonizing slowness, he pushed inside, and you both moaned as he filled you completely, his body melting into yours in a way that felt so natural, so right. It was everything you had imagined, only more—more intense, more overwhelming, more perfect.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in and out, setting a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own heartbeat. The room filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the slap of skin against skin, your moans, and his groans blending in a symphony of desire.

“Does it feel good?” Rafe whispered, his voice rough, his lips brushing your ear as his pace quickened.

You couldn’t form words, only moan in response, your mind too lost in the sensation to do anything but feel. He slowed his movements, pulling almost all the way out, demanding, “Answer me.”

“Yes, Rafe,” you managed to gasp, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It feels so good.”

His hand gripped your hip harder as he thrust back into you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is this how you imagined it?”

You moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed deeper, his every motion drawing you closer to the edge. “It’s… it’s better,” you whispered. “So much better.”

A low growl escaped his throat as he sped up his movements, clearly pleased by your answer. He pulled back before slamming into you again, hard and fast, causing you to bite down on your lip until you tasted the faint copper of blood. He was relentless, each thrust more powerful than the last.

“Your pussy is even tighter than I imagined,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. His words only fueled the fire between you as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, needing him to fill you as completely as possible. With each thrust, his pubic bone brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.

You felt the familiar knot in your lower abdomen tightening, the heat in your core building with every movement. Your nails dug into his back as the tension inside you reached its breaking point. “I’m close,” you moaned, the words barely audible.

“Cum for me,” Rafe growled into your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you.”

And that was all it took. The world around you exploded in white-hot pleasure, your body convulsing beneath him as your orgasm tore through you. The intensity was like nothing you had ever experienced, your entire being shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you, again and again.

You tightened around him, your muscles gripping him with every pulse, and Rafe let out a deep groan as he reached his own climax. You felt him release inside of you, filling you completely as you both came undone together, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you rode out the last moments of bliss.

For a long time, neither of you moved, both caught in the aftershocks of what had just happened. The world outside still didn’t matter. All that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing as you both came down from the high, lost in each other’s arms.

There was no going back, but maybe, neither of you wanted to. You had always been each other's, even before either of you realized it. And now, as you lay tangled together, hearts racing, you knew this was only the beginning.

[wosoluver]

Oh, baby

Georgia Stanway x reader.

I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!

Other players masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.

"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.

That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.

A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?

Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?

You started to cry immediately.

"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."

"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."

"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."

"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."

She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.

You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.

You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.

You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.

You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.

A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.

And you both finally managed to start your life together.

She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.

From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.

And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.

It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.

But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.

You didn't expect for it to work so soon.

Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.

Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.

You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.

She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.

She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.

And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Just one more push, yeah?"

And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.

You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.

But you couldn't, yet.

"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.

"Is the game over yet?"

"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.

You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.

ongoing call...

"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."

before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.

"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.

"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.

"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.

"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."

And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.

"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."

"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.

"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."

"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."

"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?

like & share pls!

[profound-imagination]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Azriel Shadowinger

A/N: Guess who's back? It's me! Should I be packing up to move house right now? Yes, yes I should. Am I? No, no I'm not.

I hope you enjoy this, Azriel does not come off well.

W/C: 4.2K

Azriel hated himself on a good day. Today, today he absolutely loathed himself. He knew how much she cared for him, hel, how much she loved him, that had made his job easier in the beginning, when Rhys had first sent him here as a spy. “It’ll be easy, Az,” Rhys had said, “She's already smitten with you, you’ll be able to walk right into the palace under the guise of courting her and she’ll ensure you have a room and you’re treated as an honoured guest!” Azriel had to agree, it would be easy. She had made it so painfully obvious from the day they had met.  

They had grown closer over the months he’d spent on the Continent with her. She had even gone as far as to source creams for his scars. “I know they won’t be as fancy as the Fae ones you probably use, but the man at the apothecary said they were the best for burns!” She had told him bashfully with a blush crawling over her cheeks. His shadows immediately moving to soothe them without their master's permission. He smiled down at her gently, playing the part he had been assigned, “Thank you, my love, what a thoughtful gift.” He said as he lifted one of her perfect hands to his mouth. Her smile was dazzling. Little did she know he spent his nights at home, in Prythian, an arm wrapped around another woman as they slept or danced or ate with their family.  

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” She was breathless as she approached him in the garden. Azriel having just landed in the furthest part of it. “Here I am!” He smiled down at her, she linked their arms and continued to walk alongside him, “There’s to be a ball! For my 21st Birthday, Father has sent invites all over, even to your family in Prythian!” She beamed up at him, as if inviting his family was the best thing to ever happen. Did she really not know the depths of her father's depravity? “That’s wonderful, I’m sure they’d love to attend, Rhysand does love a party.” He told her, “I’m nervous to see them again,” she confessed, “It’s so different now than it was when I last met them.” He patted her hand gently, “You have no reason to be nervous my love, they’ll adore you as I do.” Her eyes sparkled at his comment, and she preened from the compliment. He was never going to forgive himself.  

Cassian and Rhys flanked him as he waited at the bottom of the stairs for her. “You’ve told her, you’ve told Elain?” Rhys nodded, “Yes, she knows the part you are playing here and knows what to expect to see tonight.” Azriel nodded stiffly at his brother once and focused back on the staircase. She looked like an angel floating down the stairs towards him. An angel and a demon he mused to himself. “I’ve never seen a human look so beautiful.” He said to his brothers quietly, “Feyre did.” Cassian snorted a laugh at the High Lord, “Feyre was covered in worm shit and the mating bond was there.” Rhys elbowed him in response, “Both of you stop it!” Azriel hissed at his brothers, “This is her night.” Both brothers held their hands up in surrender. He took a step forward as she approached the bottom of the stairs. His shadows raced to meet her & danced around her in a way he had never seen. “You look resplendent, my love.” He told her as she took his offered hand. “Thank you, you too,” she said, a blush across her cheeks again, two shadows broke off from their dance to soothe her cheeks. “I mean, handsome! You look very handsome tonight Azriel, not that you do not always look handsome- “Cassian’s laugh cut her off and she blushed even harder.  

“You remember my brothers, Rhysand and Cassian?” Azriel introduced. “Of course,” she smiled at the two males and dropped into a courtesy that Azriel quickly pulled her up from. “It is your night, you bow to no one tonight, my love.” He told her, “But Azriel,” she protested, “He’s a High Lord!” Azriel shook his head, “Not tonight, tonight, he’s just Rhysand, my brother.” Rhys met her eyes and nodded, “Okay,” she smiled at them both, “It’s lovely to see you both again, did you bring your wives? I would so love to see them again!” She rambled, “Nes and Feyre are here,” Cassian told her, “As is Mor and Lucien and Elain & I think Eris is here to somewhere.” Azriel tensed at the mention of Elain’s name, and she shot him a questioning look that he shrugged off. Rhysand sauntered forward before Cassian could continue to talk and offered her his arm, “Shall we?” He purred at her & with a reassuring nod from Azriel she took the High Lords arm and allowed him to escort her into her birthday ball. Azriel took a deep breath and followed, steeling himself for what he was about to do.  

Azriel watched as Rhys spun her round the dance floor, smiling at the sight of his brother and the woman that he was supposedly courting. “She looks happy.” Elain’s words pulled him from his thoughts, his shadows abandoning him completely, in favour of the human dancing with his brother. He hummed in agreement, “Will you be coming home tonight?” She asked, Azriel met her doe eyes, the expression in them begging him to go with her. “Not tonight,” he said quietly. Elain’s face faltered and then she spoke again. “Why do they do that? Your shadows I mean? They seem to adore her but yet completely disappear when I’m around, as if they hate me.” He faced her, “I don’t know, they talk to me yes, but they don’t tell me their own motives if they don’t want too.” She searched his eyes and upon finding nothing there, she said, “You should get back to her.” And with that she vanished into the crowd.  

Azriel forced a smile onto his face as he approached them and bowed to Rhysand, “Mind if I cut in?” He asked, Rhys smirked at him, enjoying Azriel’s display more than he should. Azriel took a note to give him shit for that later as Rhys passed her hand into Azriel’s ruined one. He pulled her into his chest as he began to dance to the song, he knew Feyre had ensured would play and she beamed up at him. “You’re a wonderful dancer.” She said quietly, “I just have a wonderful partner.” He replied without missing a beat as he spun her. “Azriel?” He hummed at her to continue, “Will you leave here soon?” She asked bashfully, “Why do you ask, my love?” He spun her again as the song was reaching its end, “I just, you must miss your family, and despite your smiles and efforts, this is not your home, is it? It never will feel like your home, will it?” Gods, she was setting him up perfectly for what was coming next, and she didn’t even know it. The song ended and Azriel could hear Rhysand in his head telling him it was time as he dropped to one knee in front of her. She gasped but he started talking, “My love, my wonderful little human, my home is wherever you are, I would be the luckiest male on any continent if you would do me the greatest honour of being my wife?” He asked as gently as he could, looking in her eyes the entire time and he hated himself as he watched them fill with tears. He knew all she had ever wanted was someone to sweep her off her feet and that is exactly what he had done. She sniffled, once, twice, then let out a watery laugh as she threw herself towards him. “Of course I will! Yes Azriel, I will marry you!” He stood, bringing her with him wrapped in his arms as he spun them in a circle & over her head, he watched Elain slip from the party.  

Feyre was fawning over the ring he had given her, despite it being one that came from Feyre’s own jewellery box. Azriel stood with his brothers, “She’s never going to forgive this.” He told them both. Rhysand raised an eyebrow at him, “Which beautiful lady are we talking about?” Azriel sighed, “Y/N.” He said, “Elain knew what was coming tonight, but we need to find her, I saw her leave.” Cassian put a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, “Go, we can keep Y/N busy while you find her.” Azriel smiled gratefully at his brother as Rhysand called Eris over. “Congratulations, Shadowsinger.” The newly crowned High Lord of Autumn crooned, “Not that you deserve her, I see right through this plan, Rhysand, so what do you need me for, I wonder?” Eris had always been too smart for his own good. Azriel was sure Eris was where Lucien got it from. “Right now,” Rhysand gritted out, “I need you to dance with her, keep her busy for a little while.” Eris nodded once, “I can do that, but for the record, I am against using a woman like this, especially one so young and clearly smitten, she's innocent and she doesn’t deserve to have her feelings played with like this.” Rhys nodded back, “Noted.”  

“I still find it hard to believe he wants me, boring human me!” You gushed to Feyre who beamed at you, “Why wouldn’t he?” She laughed. “Why wouldn’t he indeed?” A voice crooned from behind you, and you turned and then let out a squeak, dropping into a courtesy, “High Lord, how lovely to see you again!” He smiled and pulled a small, wrapped box out of his pocket, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He said, taking your hand and placing the box in it. “Thank you, High Lord, it is very kind of you to get me a gift when your presence here is honour enough.” He smiled gently, “It’s just Eris, and it is me who is honoured to be able to share in not only your birthday celebration, but it would seem your engagement as well, now open your present and honour me with a dance?” You giggled and opened the parcel and, in the box, sat a beautiful silver necklace with a teardrop pendant hanging from it, the size of your thumb nail. Contained in the pendant, a singular flame.  

“I do not know if you remember your father bringing you to visit Autumn when you were a child, but I remember your visit. You were captivated by the forests, the trees, and the wildlife, so much so you wondered off one evening and I, knowing my father would blame me for you being missing, frantically came after you. When I found you, you’d been cornered by one of our nastier creatures and in my panic I sent my flames straight towards it, well that was it, you weren’t phased by nearly being eaten by a monster, you just wanted to know more about my fire so I sat in that clearing with you and I showed you and I told you-,” you cut him off “Even the smallest flame can start a blaze.” Eris smiled and nodded, and then you gasped. “Is this? Is this one of your flames?” He nodded again, “To keep you safe and to guide your way if you’re ever lost in the darkness.” You grinned at him, “Thank you, Eris, this is the most thoughtful and wonderful gift I’ve ever been given!” He snorted a laugh, “Remind me to rub it in the Shadowsingers face that he proposed but my gift was still better. You rolled your eyes at him, “Would you like to dance?” he almost purred, “I would love to!” You grinned and allowed him to sweep you into a dance.  

Eris was the best dance partner you had ever had. He was graceful and accurate in his movements as he guided you around the floor. You couldn’t help the smile that was spread across your face as he span and dipped you. His gentle laughter filling your ears. “Do you all move so gracefully?” You asked as he span you back into his chest, he grinned, “I’m 538, I've had years to practice.” He said and your smile fell a little, “I, I don’t have that kind of lifespan, I’ll be lucky to see 100. Why would he put himself through that?” You asked quietly, thinking about how many of your lifetimes Azriel had already lived. Eris’s thumb came up and soothed the frown in your brow. “Because you’re the most captivating little human I’ve ever met, he is an incredibly lucky bastard to get to call you, his wife. If I was him, I’d be honoured to spend whatever time we had together.” Your face softened, “Really?” He smiled again, “I’m positively green with jealousy.” His words poured over you like honey, smooth and sweet and you snorted a laugh quietly. “I think I need a drink.” You told him and Eris nodded, leading you from the dance floor, “I’ll be right back with that drink.” He said and you nodded your thanks at him, looking around the room for your fiancé who was nowhere to be seen.  

You did however see Feyre and Rhysand having some kind of discussion in the corner, Rhys’ nod towards the door was enough to tell you where Azriel had gone. He had left the party and you moved across the room to go and check on him, you knew these events were loud and often overwhelming for not only him but his shadows as well. You slipped out of the room unseen. You wandered down hallways a love drunk smile on your face. You weren't sure how a plain human such as yourself had caught the eye of the elusive Shadowsinger but you had, and you wouldn’t ever take it for granted. A singular little shadow raced towards you, you smiled at it, raising your hand so it could dance between your fingers as you had learned they liked to do. It danced through your fingers happily for a moment or two before racing down the hallway again and waiting for you at the end. You laughed quietly to yourself, never understanding how anyone could ever fear the shadows that had never been anything but playful towards you. You caught up with it, allowing it to hide itself on your shoulder, tangled in your hair and you continued to walk, it seemed your little friend had been sent to bring you somewhere and you grinned at Azriel’s thoughtfulness.  

You turned a final corner, your grin making your cheeks ache and then your world imploded. Azriel had his back to you, his wings splayed out behind him, but you spotted the arms around his neck and the legs wrapped around his waist, feet locked at the base of his wings. The shoes that were discarded behind him you recognised, you had been gushing to their owner earlier about how beautiful they were, and they had promised to send you a pair as a birthday gift. “I love you.” He was murmering between kisses as you watched, frozen in place, his hips moving in lazy thrusts. “I love you so much, Elain.” She was clawing at his back; one had moving up and down the apex of his left wing as he shuddered. A majority of his shadows were nowhere to be seen, a handful had remained and were hissing at the one hidden in your hair, that lone little shadow had picked you to be loyal to rather than its master. Tears spilled out of your eyes just as a hand wrapped over your mouth and another around your stomach and pulled you backwards into a warm solid chest. Darkness filled the hallway, and those hands span you and pressed you into the wall, their chest pressing into your back.  

“Azriel!” Rhsyand growled and you watched as High Lord pulled his brother away from Elain. “Right yourself!” Nesta hissed at her sister. It was Eris who had you pressed against the wall, and he gently pulled you away from it but didn’t move more than a step away from you. Wildfire danced in his eyes as he stared at the Shadowsinger with contempt. You took a deep breath and turned to face what was behind you. “Y/N,” Azriel said quietly, taking a step towards you and you took a step backwards, as did Eris in turn. “No.” You said your voice not as strong as you wanted it to be. The pendant warmed on your clavicle. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” It seemed to say. “Why?” Was all you asked. Azriel looked to Rhysand, the two of them having a silent conversation. “Out loud.” Eris ground out. “The lady has been hurt enough don’t you think?” Rhysand levelled him with a look before he began to speak. “We received word, your father has a plot, one that endangers our people, not just those of the Night Court but all Courts, I know this is hard to believe for you, but your father, he’s-” You cut him off. “You think I don’t know what kind of man my father is?!” You hissed and Rhys continued talking, explaining your fathers plot. Your stomach turned and the tears continued to fall. You couldn't hear much over the thumping of your crumbling heart. “Was any of it true?” You asked Azriel, interrupting Rhys again. He shook his head, “I’m so sorry, I-” You didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as you turned and ran. “Why didn’t you stop her?!” Rhys snapped at who you assumed was Eris. “I told you; I don’t stand for using innocents like this.” He said coldly, absentmindedly pressing a hand to his chest to alleviate the tightness that had appeared there in the last few moments.  

You ran, and ran, and ran. You had headed straight for the lawns and the forest beyond. Your shoes had been lost long ago but you barely registered your bleeding feet or the forest floor that was cutting into them. Your head was spinning, none of it was real. Azriel had played you and played you well. You didn’t see it coming, just like you didn’t see the slope before you plunged down it. Branches and thorns scraped at your body and face as you tumbled. All air hit your lungs as you collided with an ancient oak tree, your teeth rattling as you came to a stop and your vision blurred. It was only then you realised how cold it was and how hurt you were, your ankle sitting at an awkward angle. Whimpering as you tried to stand you realised the gravity of the situation you were in but still, compared to going back to the Manor you were more than content to sit there and grieve your short-lived engagement. You weren’t sure how long you had sat against that tree, staring at the beautiful ring Azriel had given you, the ring that rightly belonged to Elain you supposed.  

You couldn’t pinpoint when you fell asleep, but you’d never forget waking up. Surrounded by men. Swallowing thickly you took them in, all much bigger than you and staring down at you like you were prey. “Ello darling, nice sleep?” The ringleader questioned. You didn’t answer him. “He asked you a question.” His second in command sneered. “I fell.” Was all you said. “You fell?” The third laughed, “Figured with your pretty dress you’d be at the party.” The leader spoke again. “Thank them for checking on you and leave.” You gasped at Eris’ voice filled your head. The three men studied you in turn. “I was, I should be getting back, thank you for checking on me.” You said, much stronger than you felt. “What’s the hurry?” The third asked. “Seems like a boring political party if you ask me.” The second added on. You tried to push to your feet and winced at the pain that shot through your ankle. “Hurt yourself?” The leader smirked. “Break the necklace.” Eris’ voice again, “I just twisted my ankle, I’m fine.” You said, “Y/N!” Eris was beginning to get louder in your head. The leader smirked at his companions, stepping towards you. “What are you holding there?” He asked, you hadn't realised that you were subconsciously holding the necklace Eris had given you. “Tell them it’s nothing, just a silly heirloom.” Eris sounded panicked now. “Just a silly little heirloom.” You rushed out. “Let me see?” He said, it wasn’t really a question. He knocked your hand out of the way and pulled the necklace from your neck. Eris growled in your head as you flinched. The leader observed the necklace with distain and launched it towards the trunk of a nearby tree where the pendant shattered, the small flame igniting from it. The men paid it no mind.  

The leader stepped towards you and you whimpered as you retreated a step. “I need you to fight.” Eris spoke clearly. “Scratch, bite, kick, just fight Y/N.” Eris told you, but you had already made a mistake, you were pinned. The leader's hands pawed at you. “Please, don’t.” You begged, he just laughed. Ripping the bodice of your dress as his companions closed in. “Such a pretty little thing, out here all alone.” The second crooned, “Lucky for us.” The third added. “What makes you think she’s alone?” Eris’ voice filled the tree, the leaves rustling around. “I suggest you back away and unhand the lady before I kill you where you stand.” He said, his voice full of authority. The leader shoved you backwards as he turned. “You’re just one man.” He sneered at Eris, who laughed. “I’m no man.” He said, you could see nothing but the wildfire in his eyes shining in the darkness as he stepped out of the trees. “I’m a male and you do not want to fight me. I’m trying to do you a favour, one that you do not deserve but I don’t want to frighten the lady.” The leader nodded to his companions, who drew their swords. “She was asking for someone to find her.” The leader scoffed. “Out here all alone, dressed like that.” Eris seemed to grow taller at his words. “No female ever asks for a male like you to touch her against her will.” He growled. “Where I’m from you’d lose a hand or worse for that. Leave or you will die.” The leader drew his sword and his companions advanced on Eris. “Death it is then.” Eris said with a humourless laugh. He wasted no time; he didn’t even engage them in sword play. He simply winnowed behind each one and slit their throats before wiping his dagger on the leader's trousers and sheathed it on this thigh. 

“Are you okay?” He asked coming towards you slowly as to not scare you. “My necklace.” You said sadly, “They broke my beautiful necklace.” He smiled at you soft, “Don’t worry about the necklace. I’ll get you another one.” He said, his tone gentle as he removed his jacket and wrapped it around you to cover where they had ripped your dress. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed. “But the little flame-” He cut you off, “Will be more than happy to go back into a pendant around your throat.” He said, showing you the little flame dancing through his fingers. You smiled at it sadly. “I’m sorry you got thrown at a tree.” You told it quietly and without Eris commanding the little flame to or before he could even stop it, the flame had jumped from his fingers and was gently brushing against your cheek. It wasn’t hot, nor did it burn, it was warm, comforting even and it removed the sadness from your smile. “Can you walk?” He asked and you shook your head no. “Okay, I’m going to carry you, is that alright?” He asked “Yes,” you said quietly. “That’s okay.” He swept you up into his arms and began walking back to the Manor. “I don’t want to face him, I’m so embarrassed, I was such a fool.” You told Eris. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He told you. “If he says anything to you or even so much as approaches you, I’ll turn him to ash.” You giggled at his words. “I don’t want to stay here, not with my father.” You admitted, the first time you had said such words to anyone. “Then we’ll see about you coming to Autumn with me.” He said and you gasped quietly, “Really?” He nodded, “If it is where you want to go, then yes, I will take you back with me.” You curled further into his chest. “I would very much like to come with you.” You muttered, his natural heat making you sleepy. “Then it shall be done, but let's get your ankle looked at and healed first.”  

[sleepynegress]

Black actor who faced abuse over role in Romeo & Juliet calls for industry-wide action

Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, who played Juliet alongside Tom Holland’s Romeo, says racist abuse went on for months

The actor Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, who received a barrage of online racial abuse after being cast in a production of Romeo & Juliet this year, has called for industry-wide action to protect black and brown actors.

The abuse aimed at Amewudah-Rivers began after the Jamie Lloyd Company theatre group announced the cast of its production in April, with Amewudah-Rivers to play Juliet and the Spider-Man star Tom Holland playing Romeo.

Amewudah-Rivers has revealed she also received hate mail, and that she did not feel safe while working on the play, her West End stage debut, at the Duke of York’s theatre.

“There were many days where I didn’t know how I was going to get through it,” she told the Stage. “The flurry of abuse was sustained throughout the whole job. I received death threats, hate mail sent to the theatre. I didn’t feel safe at work.”

‘Too much to bear’: Black actors condemn racial abuse of Romeo & Juliet starRead more

The 26-year-old, who was nominated at this year’s Black British theatre awards, said the minimal set and closeup camerawork of the production made her feel “very exposed” on stage. “Off the back of the abuse, having to stare down the camera lens and have my face be blown up in this theatre was really tough mentally,” she said.

Amewudah-Rivers said the harassment also affected her family and friends, as well as the show’s cast, crew and producers at the Jamie Lloyd Company, who condemned the initial abuse in a statement on social media at the time and said further harassment would be reported.

The incident led to an open letter of solidarity with Amewudah-Rivers��being signed by more than 800 predominantly black female and non-binary actors – including Lashana Lynch, Sheila Atim, Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Lolly Adefope, Freema Agyeman, Wunmi Mosaku and Tamara Lawrance.

Amewudah-Rivers described her experience as an “incredibly tough” induction into the West End. She said: “I know what it means to move through life in a black body. Racism is something we have to navigate every day, so I was very aware of the potential for something like this to happen.

“I think what I was unprepared for was how long it went on for, and also having to navigate it while doing the job. It was four months of battling against this energy, and it’s something I still have to deal with. I really had to reckon whether it was worth it, this sustained feeling of duress.”

The actor called for “broader conversations industry-wide” about the protection of global-majority actors and said it was “not enough to represent our communities on stage, there also needs to be an infrastructure of support”.

“Safety has to be at the forefront. We can’t do our best work if we don’t feel safe, if we don’t feel held, if we don’t feel understood,” she said. “I think more needs to be done, especially because I know I’m not alone. I know other actors who have had similar experiences, more recently, too.”

According to Amewudah-Rivers, the response to her casting showed how the UK theatre sector was still lagging behind in terms of onstage racial diversity.

“For it to cause such outrage that I was cast in this role means we have a long way to go. Theatre has a legacy of community, it should represent society. Especially in London – there’s a big black British community here and in the UK. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Our histories as black people have been erased. It’s about re-education. I’m not the first black Juliet, and I won’t be the last.”

[batboyblog]

On Top of the totally fictional story of black immigrants eating their neighbors cats and dogs here are some more totally fictional stories Trump made up in the last month, does he believe these are real things that happened? or does he just not care at all if he lies making things up at will?

1 Harris and the military draft

At a rally in Las Vegas last week, Trump claimed his Democratic opponent, Vice President Kamala Harris, is talking about forcing Americans to serve in the military: “She’s already talking about bringing back the draft. She wants to bring back the draft, and draft your child, and put them in a war that should never have happened.” That’s absolute bunk. Harris is not talking at all about bringing back the draft.

2 Harris’ CNN interview

Trump claimed during a Fox News event in Pennsylvania in early September that Harris “had notes” to assist her during the television interview she did with CNN in late August. He even performed an impression in which he portrayed Harris supposedly looking down at these notes. She didn’t actually have any notes.

3 Transgender children and schools

At an event held by a conservative group in late August, Trump claimed that schools are sending children for gender-affirming surgeries without their parents’ knowledge. He said, “The transgender thing is incredible. Think of it. Your kid goes to school and comes home a few days later with an operation. The school decides what’s going to happen with your child.” Trump’s campaign subsequently made clear to CNN that it could not find a single example of such a thing having happened anywhere in the United States. Parental consent is required for gender-affirming operations; schools have not performed or approved these surgeries for minors behind their parents’ backs. Even after Trump’s campaign demonstrated that it couldn’t substantiate the story, he repeated it days later at a Wisconsin rally in early September.

4 Harris and the Russian invasion of Ukraine

Trump told a vivid story on Fox News in late August about how President Joe Biden supposedly sent Harris to negotiate with Russian President Vladimir Putin in 2022 in an effort to prevent an invasion of Ukraine. Trump claimed Harris was sent “to see Putin in Russia three days before the attack. She went. She said – she gave her case. He attacked three days later. He attacked three days later. He laughed at her. He thought she was a joke.” Trump also told a version of the story at the September debate. But this story, too, is wholly false. Biden never sent Harris to negotiate with Putin – in fact, the Kremlin said in July that Harris and Putin have never spoken – and Harris did not travel to Russia just prior to the invasion. Rather, Harris traveled to a conference in Germany to meet with US allies, including Ukrainian President Volodymr Zelensky.

5 Harris’ identity

Trump claimed at a convention of Black journalists in late July that Harris used to “only” promote her Indian heritage, then “all of a sudden” made a “turn” and “became a Black person.” Defending the claim, Trump reiterated at the September debate that Harris had “put out” at some point that “she was not Black.” None of that is true. Harris – who was raised in a Black community and graduated from a historically Black university – has embraced her Black identity since her youth. While she has also fondly discussed her South Asian heritage, she never “put out” that she wasn’t Black.

6 Harris’ 2020 primary performance

Trump has repeatedly claimed during the last month that Harris was so unpopular when she previously ran for the presidency, in 2019, that she was the very first candidate to drop out of the crowded Democratic primary. “She was one of 22 people that ran. She was the first one to quit,” he said at a Pennsylvania rally in late August. Not even close. In fact, 13 other Democratic candidates dropped out of the race before Harris did – including the sitting or former governors of Washington, Montana and Colorado; the sitting mayor of New York City; and sitting or former members of the House of Representatives and Senate.

7 Opinions of Roe v. Wade

Facing heavy criticism from Harris and others for appointing three of the Supreme Court justices who overturned the Roe v. Wade abortion rights decision in 2022, Trump concocted a tale that this unpopular decision fulfilled the wishes of “everybody” – including “every Democrat.” “Every Democrat, every Republican, everybody wanted Roe v. Wade terminated and brought back to the states,” Trump said on Fox News in late August. This is not even remotely accurate. Roe was consistently supported by a majority of the American public, and it was overwhelmingly popular among Democrats – with 80% support or better among Democrats in many polls.

8 Elections in California

At a September press conference in California, Trump claimed that “if I ran with an honest vote counter in California I would win California, but the votes are not counted honestly.” He had delivered an even more colorful version of the claim in an interview in late August, saying, “If Jesus came down and was the vote counter, I would win California, okay?” More rubbish. The votes are counted honestly in California, as they are in every other state; Trump loses California because it is an overwhelmingly Democratic state that has not chosen a Republican presidential candidate since 1988. He lost the state in 2020, fair and square, by more five million votes and more than 29 percentage points.

9 A ‘Man of the Year’ award in Michigan

Since 2016, Trump has told a lie that he was named “Man of the Year” in Michigan before he entered politics. Media outlets including CNN have repeatedly noted that Trump never got such an award and that the award doesn’t even appear to exist. But Trump claimed at a Michigan event on Tuesday that he has now been vindicated. “The press said, ‘Oh, it never happened.’ Well, then it did happen. They found out where it was,” Trump said. “But it was like 15 years ago, a beautiful area, but nobody remembered it; nobody remembered it all. All of a sudden, like through a miracle, they found out it did exist.” That’s a lie on top of a lie. The media has not discovered proof that Trump got a Michigan Man of the Year award. His campaign didn’t respond Wednesday to a request to explain what he was talking about.

10 Migrants, prisons and ‘the Congo’

For months, Trump has told a story about how “the Congo” has deliberately emptied prisons to somehow get its criminals to come to the United States as migrants. “Many prisoners let go from the Congo in Africa, rough prisoners,” he said at an August event in Arizona. At an August rally in Pennsylvania the week after, he said, “In the Congo, in Africa: 22 people deposited into our country. ‘Where do you come from?’ ‘The Congo.’ ‘Where in the Congo?’ ‘Jail.’” But Trump has presented zero evidence that “the Congo” has actually emptied any prisons for migration purposes. Representatives for the governments of both the Democratic Republic of Congo and the neighboring Republic of Congo have told CNN on the record that the claim is fiction, experts on the two countries say they have seen no evidence it is true, and Trump’s campaign has ignored requests to offer any substantiation.

11 The jobs revision

After the federal Bureau of Labor Statistics announced in August that its annual revision of jobs data found that the economy added about 818,000 fewer jobs than initially reported for the 12 months ending in March, Trump told a story about how the government had been planning to announce this downward revision “after November 5th,” Election Day, but was forced to do so before the election because of “a whistleblower” – “a patriot leaker.” Another fabrication. The Bureau of Labor Statistics regularly releases the preliminary revised data in August, and it had disclosed the precise date of this particular data release – August 21 – weeks in advance. William Beach, a conservative economist who was appointed by Trump to lead the Bureau of Labor Statistics, wrote on social media: “For those who think the big revision to the BLS jobs numbers ‘leaked’ and was meant to come out after the election, remember that BLS always announces its draft revisions in August and announced this year’s date, August 21, many months ago. It is important to check your facts.”

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k words

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drinking and being hungover, a bit of angst

summary: a delayed flight back home leads to an abrupt realization that ultimately feels stupid because everything between you and steve is supposed to be over

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Fall Semester 2016

The music was loud and the bar was crowded but you didn’t mind it all that much. 

Robin cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned toward your ear so you could hear her. “Do you think there’s any chance that he’ll make it back here before the show starts, or at all?”

You pushed up on your toes to see if you could spot Eddie anywhere, specifically his mop of curly hair, but you couldn’t. He’d been tasked with grabbing drinks almost thirty minutes ago at this point. You looked back at Robin and leaned in toward her. “I’m starting to doubt it.”

“Well,” She started. “RIP, I guess. He will be missed.” 

“Truly,” You joked back, placing a solemn hand over your heart.

As if on cue, Eddie’s voice broke through the noise. “Finally!”

He was balancing two drinks in one hand and holding the other as he joined you both back at the small table that you were surrounding.

“Just in time, Edward,” Robin said. “I think the band’s about to finally go on.”

“You guys are welcome for the drinks that I almost died trying to get. The bar’s a shit show because some new guy just started.” 

“We’d already mourned you, though, so you being back now is a little awkward,” You told him teasingly and Robin laughed. 

“I guess I’ll just take this back then,” Eddie responded, reaching over to grab your glass. 

You playfully swatted his hand away. “Hey, hey! What I meant to say was you’re the best for getting these for us. You’re so awesome.” 

Robin nodded. “I agree.”

He smiled then. “Thank you. That’s what I like to hear.” 

The three of you waited for the band to come out— this small group that Robin really liked. She had found out about the show at the last second and, of course, asked you and Eddie to come along too. 

She and Eddie had been friends for the past month; they were in the same advanced music theory class, even though she was only a freshman. And you and her had only been friends for a little over a week, but it felt like longer. The long overdue introduction came in the form of Eddie inviting her along to the midnight showing of an Indie movie you and he were seeing. Aside from Eddie, there was no one that you’d been able to hit it off with so easily. 

It was a little after eleven when the show ended, and you all were still somewhat tipsy as you walked back to your dorm— you had done the second drink run in the middle of the show and made it back in record time. Since you lived alone, it was unspokenly decided that they’d stay with you for the night, it always just made the most sense. Robin had a roommate that she didn’t like (it reminded you of your own situation freshman year), and Eddie had two now that were actually present most of the time. 

The twenty-minute walk didn’t feel too long or unbearable. There was a cool breeze that was completely comfortable and made sense for the end of September. You lingered just a few steps behind Robin and Eddie, humming a specific part of a song from the show that had gotten stuck in your head and not at all focusing on the conversation happening between them. But then, a certain part of it stood out to you.

“I still don’t understand how you’re dating someone whose music taste is so different from yours,” Robin said to Eddie. You weren’t sure how the conversation got to that, but you had to admit, you did agree with Robin’s statement because it had never fully made sense to you either. 

Eddie and Chrissy were great together, you could see that clearly, but the how of it all was what confused you at first because they really did seem quite different. You eventually just accepted the fact that not all things were meant to make a whole lot of sense.

“Our love runs deeper than her bad taste in music,” Eddie answered. “Opposites attract and all that cliche shit.”

Maybe it was the slight inebriation, but you weren’t even fazed by how happy and completely content he sounded right then. Your feelings for him were gone— well, maybe not exactly gone, but at least far, far, far away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Delayed flights were already one of the worst things ever. But delayed flights with a hangover felt like an entirely new version of hell.

A version that you were currently living in. 

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been for the best if you stopped at your third glass of champagne last night, but you didn’t, and neither did Steve. Instead, you both had more than you should’ve at the wedding reception, and then when you returned to your shared room, you two raided the minifridge for every tiny bottle of alcohol it had. 

From what you remembered about the majority of the night— the smiles and laughs shared between you and Steve and the drunken storytimes about the most random topics— you honestly didn’t regret most of it; even though you were now sitting in a chair that was too hard to get comfortable in and stuck with a four-hour flight delay. The bright fluorescent lighting in the airport only made your headache worse and you promptly stole Steve’s sunglasses, and he thankfully didn’t protest. 

“Robin thinks that you’re kidnapping me,” You told him as he sat back down next to you and handed over the water he got for you at one of the shops. You two were only one hour into the long delay. 

“I hope you’re endlessly defending me,” He said, giving you a smile. It was almost annoying how fine he seemed, barely any after effects from last night. 

“Of course I am,” You said, eyes back on your phone as you sent her a picture that you’d taken of a lizard from when you and Steve were at the beach on Sunday. The random picture felt like the perfect response to her ridiculous text of “He’s trying to kidnap you!” when you told her about the flight delay. “I feel like I especially have to defend you now because I owe you for last night.”

You didn’t look at him, not even when your phone was pocketed back in the front pocket of the hoodie you were wearing. It had been around one in the morning when the night came to somewhat of an abrupt end, and it was one of the two parts of the night that you did regret. When you and he were on the couch in your room— sharing a plate of room service french fries and watching an old kid’s movie because it was the only channel that had English subtitles— and you suddenly felt sick. Steve saw you puke (luckily you managed to make it to the bathroom) and he’d been way too nice about it, in your opinion; rubbing your back as the fries and everything else from that night came back up and grabbing a water for you— the only drink that was left in the minifridge aside from two bottles of soda. 

“You actually don’t owe me anything because you finally gave me a song last night,” He told you, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

You closed your eyes as you sighed. “I hate that you just brought that up.” 

You had tried your hardest to forget about the moment he was talking about when you woke up. But, you remembered it way too vividly, and it quickly became the other part of the night that you regretted. It felt worse than the puke moment, even though it happened before that, and it was the one thing that you wished you had blacked out on— you drunkenly pulling up the instrumental version of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen, and using your phone as a microphone to sing it for him in your room. The memory of you jumping around on the couch as you did your very lively performance was almost too crystal clear in your head. The only thing that you were glad for when you woke up and sadly remembered that that happened was that there was no video proof of any of it since Steve’s phone had been dead. 

“That moment was supposed to be never spoken about and only taken to our respective graves,” You told him. “I’m gonna tell Robin that you are kidnapping me now. I hope you enjoyed twenty years of living because your days are now numbered, Harrington.” 

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” You could still hear the smile in his voice, which only made you roll your eyes.

“Don’t forget that you also sang to me,” You reminded him, your own smile tugging at your lips as you remembered pulling up a song for him on your phone when you were done with yours and forcing him to sing. “And I truly loved the way you sang Since U Been Gone.” 

“I only did the first minute of it because I forgot how high it gets,” He said. “You gave me the entirety of Don’t Stop Me Now.” 

You groaned and pulled the hood of your hoodie over your head. “Don’t remind me.”

You heard his soft laugh in response and ignored it, knowing that things would feel a lot less embarrassing if you let the conversation shift to anything that wasn’t this. The sounds of everything else happening in the airport right then, couples and friends and parents with their kids moving around, filled in the silence as Steve took a sip from his own water bottle. 

“You hungry?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “Just tired.” 

You leaned your head against his shoulder then because all you really wanted to do at that moment was sleep. The way he was sitting made it a little awkward, your head resting more so on the point of his shoulder rather than in the curve of it. It definitely wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it wasn’t the worst. 

As if sensing your slight discomfort, Steve shifted a little, scooting a bit lower in the chair so that your head could rest a lot more comfortably on his shoulder. “That better?”

Your eyes were shut as you spoke. “So much. Thank you.”

He hummed in response. “Yeah, no problem.” 

Somehow even with all of the romantic couple stuff that you two had to do these past few days, it was this moment that actually managed to completely change things for you. This was the moment where your stomach did a weird fluttery thing that made you see things differently. This was the moment that made you want to kiss him for real. This was the moment that made you wish that this relationship wasn’t entirely fake and that there wasn’t an expiration date to this ruse that was quite literally tonight. This was the moment that made you realize that you were in way too deep. 

Although, maybe that feeling had been lingering and begging to be noticed the entire trip— during that moment in the pool, during that kiss at the wedding reception, during that slow dance. 

But still, it was right here in this stupidly bright airport that it all hit you like a freight train. And it only made your headache a thousand times worse.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You had three more hours of a flight delay and another handful of hours on a plane to reevaluate your feelings; to accept them for what they were or convince yourself otherwise. But, you didn’t do any of that. Instead, you pushed it away entirely. You let yourself fall asleep on Steve’s shoulder for an hour and a half, and then took him up on his offer for food because you figured it would probably help ease away your headache.

You had tried your hardest not to look at him any differently as you two sat across from each other at a restaurant that had really good burgers. You talked about the most unimportant things, spending what was probably too much time ranking TV shows you used to love as a kid and letting Steve go on random tangents about history topics. You’d never been a fan of History, but the way he talked about it actually made it sound interesting for the first time probably ever in your life, and it also helped you not think about anything else. And then you two were finally getting on your flight back home and you slept the entire time of that too. 

Now you sat in his car that was parked outside of your apartment building, and your maybe feelings for him were thankfully still the last thing on your mind. 

Both of you knew what was coming— the inevitable “break up”— but it seemed as if neither of you were ready to pull the trigger. So instead, you both were saying anything to prolong the conversation and keep the night going; you had even brought up the weather of all things just to give yourself another few minutes in his car. And almost an hour later you were still there, sitting in his passenger seat and waiting for the worried text from Robin that felt inevitable given how long it’d been. 

You were in the middle of trying to think of something to say, a question to ask, but Steve was speaking before you could. “Remember when you talked about maybe wanting to teach?”

You kind of forgot that you mentioned that to him before, and you silently wondered what brought up that question, but you nodded anyway. “Mhm, yeah.”

“Sometimes I think about doing that too,” He told you. “Teaching History. But, I know my parents would absolutely hate that.”

The first part of his words made a lot of sense to you because you could actually see that for him, and the rest of his statement made you frown.

“Yeah, but it’s your life at the end of the day, though,” You said. “You’re the one that has to live it, so you should do what you want.” Your mind was then reminding you of who his parents were, and how intense they were, before Steve got the chance to. “And I know that’s definitely easier said than done, and I’m probably making it all sound much simpler than it actually is, but it doesn’t make it any less true, y’know?”

It was quiet for a second and then he was nodding. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You looked away from him then and focused your gaze out the window for a bit. You could’ve kept the conversation going and let a random question fall from your lips, but there was only one thing left to do, and you knew that you had to finally do it. 

“Okay, and on that serious note, I think it’s time for me to make things even more serious,” You said, even though you were actually about to do the opposite. You reached over, looking down to find his hand in the semi-darkness and then meeting his eyes. “Steve, this last month has been amazing and I have truly felt honored to be your girlfriend. But, I think that we need to break up.” You took a brief pause; to make things more dramatic and also to think of what else to say to make this as cheesy as possible. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m just not ready for a relationship. We’re getting too serious. I think we both want different things. Our lives are moving in such different directions…” You trailed off, trying to see if there were any cliches you were missing. “Yeah, I think those are all of the reasons that I have. Anyway, I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

He smiled at you, and you could tell that he was trying to hold back his laughter at how sincere your unserious words sounded. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“Thank you for understanding,” You said with a nod and a small smile on your face. “That was really hard to do.”

It wasn’t until your joking words came out that you realized that they weren’t that much of a joke at all. You were smiling and holding back your own laugh, but you actually felt sad about this entire moment.

You told yourself that it was the friendship that you were already mourning right then rather than anything else; this friendship that you’d accidentally but so easily developed with him. And you knew that it was over— "separate ways" and all that, just like it was written in the rules.

You didn’t really like Steve in any other way. You couldn’t. You refused to, actually, because you could sense that it would lead you down an all too familiar path of pining and unrequited feelings for obvious reasons— he didn’t want anything real or serious with anyone, and you were the opposite. 

You decided then that it was the act of fake dating that made you think that you liked him. The lines of it all abruptly became a little blurry because, of course, acting like you’re dating someone and pretending to be in love would lead to thinking that you actually had feelings for them. You quickly convinced yourself that there was no way there was anything real between you and him, and the only reason why it had suddenly felt that way was because you two had been acting like it for the past month and these extra two weeks. 

Steve was the one who initiated the hug when you two were standing outside of his car. It was a quick thing, nothing too dramatic or drawn out, which you were glad for because it made things less confusing.

“And you’re sure there’s nothing you want me to do for you about Eddie?” He asked when you both pulled back from the brief embrace and your hand found the handle of your suitcase. 

With everything else running through your mind at that moment— all of the conclusions you were coming to and the things you were convincing yourself of— you’d completely forgotten about the Eddie part of this. The complete truth still felt too hard to tell Steve, so you only gave half of it.

“I’m positive. It’s okay,” You said and gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine. Me and Eddie are just supposed to be friends. I get that now.”

“Okay,” He responded, and you could tell that he was attempting to read you, see how much you actually meant your words. Inwardly, you knew just how true they were, and saying them right then finally didn’t even make you feel sad anymore. “Then, I guess we’re about to fulfill the final rule of the agreement right now.” 

Hearing him saying that pretty much confirmed everything that you had just been thinking. The timer was up and you two had to go your separate ways; even if the rule was scrapped it would be pretty impossible to be friends now anyway. There was no way you could be friends without telling the whole truth to everyone, so this was just much easier. 

And with what he just said, you knew that he didn’t see you two as actual friends or anything else, anyway. At the end of the day, you two were essentially just business partners. You thought back to that group project analogy that you came up with what felt like forever ago. The “project” was finally completed and now you two could go back to how your lives were before you’d been paired up. 

“Yeah. It was nice doing business with you,” You said and held out your hand for him to shake before realizing how dumb that probably was.

Steve laughed, though. A genuine sound that managed to make you smile and not feel like a complete idiot as his hand took hold of your outstretched one. “You too.” 

You walked away once his hand dropped from yours and when the final goodbyes were said, rolling your suitcase with you toward the entrance of your building and deliberately not looking back as you stepped inside because you didn’t know what you would feel if you turned around. 

Talia was the only one awake and in the living room when you walked into the apartment.

“Hey, glad to see you weren’t kidnapped like Robin thought,” She smiled at you. “How was the trip?” 

“Good,” You said, smiling back. “But, it feels even better to be home right now and not stuck in an airport. I missed my bed.” 

It didn’t feel like the right moment to drop the “break up” news, and plus, you weren’t in the mood to make up answers to the slew of questions that the news would bring about.

“There’s some cookies on the counter if you want them,” She told you and you immediately took a look over at the counter and noticed the clear container. “I tried out this new chocolate chip recipe that turned out really good, and everyone went crazy for them, but I managed to save you three.”

“God, that sounds amazing. I’ll be right back,” You said, heading to your room to drop off your suitcase and then take a quick shower.

You joined her on the couch after grabbing your cookies from the kitchen and didn’t even mind the unsettling true crime documentary she had playing on the TV. It was a moment that was so normal and familiar and just for a second it made you feel entirely at ease. Until you realized that this was how things were going to go now.

Solely back to moments that resembled this one— reality TV nights, game nights, enjoying Talia’s cooking with everyone, moments where none of you could sleep so you stayed up and talked about anything. What your life was before Steve. Back to normal.

That should’ve felt completely okay, but it didn’t, and that really confused you. 

Steve was someone who wasn’t in your life a month and a half ago so what would be the big deal about him not being in it now?

None of what happened this past month was real, you understood that, but for some insane reason, you already missed it. It had been a bad idea, but you missed it. It had been a waste of time for you, but you missed it. You’d felt like an idiot because of it all, but still, you found yourself missing it. 

It was so contradictory but also so true. And right then, it was hard to decide or even figure out what exactly that meant. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[juniperskye]

That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch. 6

(Hes sitting next to you in this pic :D)

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst, SMUT Summary: You search for Daryl after Negan's lineup. You didn't understand the trauma he went through, and eventually you decide enough is enough, and you leave. Notes: The last chapter! Somewhat proofread. Filled with tensions overflowing and then some sex. I had a lot of fun writing this and want to thank @louifaith again for allowing me to write out her idea. It's also pretty long because I didn't want to break it into two chapters, it didn't really make sense that way. Longish read, but longish smut at the end if you're just here for sex and want to skip ahead.

When you found out he left on some halfcocked revenge mission, you were pissed. And then you learned nearly everyone else had gone too, you were pissed and confused. 

The rare presence of the others had become more common than the familiar presence of Daryl. He was gone more often than not now, either out with Aaron or off with Rick. Even when he was home, he was never really there. He didn't laugh at your crude insults about others anymore, he didn't want to spend all day with you out hunting in the woods. It looked like was also making an effort to smoke less, often declining your outstretched cigarette. He was the one who got you to smoke once. You used to hate it, but eventually associated the smell of tobacco with him, and you grew to love it.

You couldn't read him like a book like you once did. He'd become overly serious, distant, and uncharacteristically concerned with the well-being of others. 

You had half a mind to just leave. The only reason you hadn't left months ago was Daryl, but the way he was treating you felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. For the first time in so long you hurt. You felt utterly and completely alone, leading you to once again close yourself off from the others, spending all your time hunting or scavenging for substances in the city that could make you feel better. You scored an unopened bottle of painkillers, something you once hated, and drowned your sorrows with a stuffed nose and a foul post nasal drip. 

The savior issue never really seemed like a big deal to you when it first arose. Some asshole raiders trying to make a point, you didn't give a shit. Rick and Daryl would handle it like they always did. 

You took a deep drag from your cigarette as you watched the front gates being opened, two heavy duffle bags over each of your shoulders. You’d come to terms with it, you were leaving, and that was it. You weren't some obedient housewife that didn’t mind the absence of Daryl, you were his best friend and you couldn’t put up with the dramatic emotions anymore. You were fully prepared for the conversations that would ensue, a list of reasons you should stay, maybe some light pleading, so when you saw what came from those gates you froze. 

The muscles in your jaw throbbed as you listened to Rick's pitiful attempt at retelling you what happened, his eyes red and puffy, his hair wet and matted to his forehead. He couldn't, so he gave up, and drug his feet into the house, moving in a way that closely resembled the dead. Carl followed, and you realized Maggie was missing too. Your heart dropped. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened?” You gaped, looking from face to face, searching desperately for an answer, only to be met with the ghosts of their former selves. You spotted Aaron and realized he was almost never out without Daryl, and your confusion snapped violently to panic. Michonne was really the only one who wasn't too shocked to speak. She told you everything in great detail, her words cold and harsh as she made her anger towards your insensitive behavior well known. Each word she spoke felt like a curse, spitting at you with such venom you'd never had directed towards you before. You deserved it. 

You weren't a good person like them. The deaths of Glenn and Abraham didn't make you cry, go through all the stages of grief and have a mental crisis, in the moment she told you they just felt like problems you’d deal with later, you didn’t have the time. Not when you still had no idea where Daryl was. 

Despite not being a good person, you reacted to the news in a way that was very impressive by your standards. You didn't scream at anyone, or punch Gabriel in the face, you just threw your already packed bags in the car and set off. 

You chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the first hour of searching. You never did find the saviors home, even though you didn't stop searching to sleep the first few days. You found the location of the massacre, a few shredded pieces of clothing and blood stained dirt. You were brought to furious tears at the thought of the scenario where you were in Daryl's position, and him yours. Your first assumption was that he would've already tracked you down by then, him and his one man army breaking you out and taking you far away from the entire state. Then the second, and more daunting assumption, would he even look? Would he be too busy taking care of Rick and the others, the task of rescuing you put on a back burner? 

You told yourself maybe you were just impulsive and stupid, maybe Daryl in that scenario was just being smart and careful, you were just a guns blazing idiot who didn't think far into the future. 

It felt like you'd been out there for weeks, living off a diet of cigarettes and various illegal substances. You nearly stuck a knife in the face of  a woman who was unlucky enough to walk into the same store you were in. 

“No, please, don't.” She sniveled pathetically, her hands raised to the sides of her head in surrender. “I don't have anything. Please. I can take you to my camp, we've got food and water and medicine-”

“Dude, shut up. Just thought you were a walker. Goddamn.” You sheathed your knife and stood back, the tip of your tongue held between your teeth in thought. “But I'm hungry as fuck!”

She took you back to her camp, which was extremely impressive. And just in time, too, your stomach growled noisily and you felt the small waves of hunger nausea begin. 

“Put your gun away, please.” She pleaded in a hush whisper as you stood in front of the wooden gates. 

You looked to her with furrowed eyebrows, your cheeks hollowed out as you pulled on your twentieth cigarette that day. You really needed to cut back. “No.” You muttered around the cigarette, eventually sighing and slinging your rifle over your shoulder with a dramatic eye roll. 

The sight of Rick and Maggie chatting outside with a small group of others felt like you'd been slapped in the face. They looked just as stunned as you were, pausing their conversation. You stood there for about ten solid seconds before the silence finally broke. 

Rick opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand, stopping him. “Don't have time. Just gonna eat and leave.” 

“Daryl's here.” The sound of Maggie's harsh voice halted your route to the front of the mansion. You couldn't hide the look on your face, an intense ‘this better not be a lie’ mix of anger and disbelief. She pointed up to your previous destination with raised eyebrows and you took off. 

He almost punched you in the face when you jumped him. He was still wet from a shower, littered in various sized bandages and bruises, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He smelled like laundry detergent and cheap flowery shampoos. 

“Holy shit I thought they killed you. Holy shit. Mother fucker.” You babbled into his chest as he squeezed you so hard your back cracked. 

It felt indescribable being in his arms again. It also felt incredibly different. You'd hugged him hundreds of times but something about this particular hug stood out. It was desperate and deep, you didn’t worry about coming off as soft or being too much. Your fingers dug into the sleeves of his shirt around his biceps, your face buried into his chest, and his hands were all over you. He couldn't decide where to touch you, your arms, your face, your hair, your back, they would move from place to place as he cemented into his mind that you were really there, there in his arms, holding and petting him like you'd always done before. His mind flashed with images of him back in that cell and his throat tightened, the slightest whisper of a whimper sounding in the back of his mouth. He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head, rocking you in his arms for a few silent moments as you pulled yourself together. 

“Where the hell you been? Rick said ya left with all your shit.” His voice was tight, the way it would get when he would try not to cry, along with raising in pitch a little. 

You looked up and smiled softly, seeing him through a sheen of wet tears. “Doesn't matter.” You hummed as you stroked his cheek. “Really. It doesn’t. I've been looking for you, only reason I'm here is because some bitch thought I was robbing her and told me about this place. Couldn't keep looking if I was starving.” You buried your face back in the fabric of his shirt and sighed deeply. 

“Told ya, I ain't leavin'. I ain't dyin’ neither.” His warm words in that deep rumble resulted in your racing heart finally slowing its pace. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” You pulled back from his chest to look up at his face. He looked miserable, it broke your heart. He looked away from your gaze, unable to keep eye contact, which was something he never struggled with before when it came to you. “Daryl?”

His head immediately dropped and his forehead collided with your shoulder. Your heart banged against your ribcage and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head while he stifled his soft sobs.

“Let's leave. C'mon.” You parted from him, only to be pulled back by his grip on your wrist. 

“Y’jus’ got here.” Daryl furrowed his brows, his eyes wet with tears that he quickly blinked away.

“Yeah, to eat so I could keep looking for you. I've found you, so let's go.”

“Go where?” 

You gritted your teeth as his grip on you loosened. “Anywhere else, I don't care.” You said through clenched teeth, your gaze intensifying. “We're done with this shit. Not our problem anymore. Let's go. I'm not letting these people get you hurt again. Never, Daryl.”

Daryl had never been the reason you cried, at least, that's what he thought. So when you started cracking at his rejection, his heart shattered. Every bone in his body yearned for him to hold you, bring you back into his arms and make the pain stop. It hurt even more to see that you weren't just upset, you were pissed, disgusted at the fact that you were showing such weakness in front of the same person who made you cry. 

“I gotta. ‘Jus need to do this.” He attempted to comfort you after your rage at your perceived betrayal faded into tears of defeat. “M’doin’ it for us. Ya gotta trust me on this.” 

There was a small glimmer of hope then, and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were desperate to believe him, and desperate to believe everything would turn out alright. Rick and everyone else would deal with Negan, you'd scratch that burning itch for revenge, and everything would be okay. 

Rick did deal with it, that much came true. At the cost of his son's life, he defeated the saviors.

You were more than willing to fight. You’d been dying for a purpose, and being a soldier in the war against Negan was exactly what you needed. You looked like a cheesy action movie protagonist with two long arm guns on your back and two pistols in each hand. You used more ammo that day than you had in your entire life. God. You wished Merle had been there to see you and Daryl. 

You didn't get the revenge you so desperately craved. You absolutely lost it when Negan was defeated. After Daryl decided against killing Dwight, you lunged at the man like a rabid fox, fully prepared to end his life with just your teeth and hands, only to end up clawing and wriggling in Daryl's grasp. You could've gotten over that eventually, it would take a really long time, sure, Dwight was a brainwashed cult member and did what he did because he was told to. And he'd get his, even if you had to restrain yourself. Fine. It’s fine.

But Rick sparing Negan? 

No. Your reaction to that earned you the reputation of the group's feral animal. You shared the same reaction as Maggie, but unlike her giving up after a while of being held back, you ended up earning a matching set of rope bracelets and anklets.

“You'll have to kill me.” Your throat burned as Daryl tossed you in the back of a blue Toyota camry. He nearly had to force Dwight into the passenger seat at gunpoint, the terror in the backseat scaring him more than the thought of death. 

Your spit was red and thick as it smacked onto Dwight's battered face, blending with the blood that made him unrecognizable. He was barely able to get to his feet after Daryl's threat of death if he was to return, blindly picking up the car keys in the mess of blood spattered leaves. 

The relationship between you and Maggie quickly became a deep friendship as you plotted to kill Negan. Neither of you were allowed to see him in his cell without someone to stand guard, but Maggie even moreso. With enough time you were able to get down there alone, gun in hand, only to be stopped by Michonne, who had apparently come for the same reason. 

“I haven't seen you much before. What's your name.” Negan's eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of his cell, seething from the fact that Michonne wouldn't let you kill him yet. She had her own unknown motives, which didn't really matter to you, but all this talking was driving you insane. 

“You don't need to know my name.” You muttered, cutting your eyes at the man. “You look so much smaller than I remembered you looking in that field.”

He winced at your words, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Oh, sweetheart. That hurts. Actually, I've been told I'm pretty impressive.”

He watched you as you continued pacing, your hands sweaty and your eyes wild with rage, confusion, and confliction. A smirk spread on his face. “Look at you. Like a lion in a cage. Well, I’m the one in the cage, but. Coulda used a psycho bitch like you. If you were on my side that day, phew!”

You pulled your gun from your waistband and pulled the trigger. Negan raised hands and jumped. Your heart dropped when you were met with an empty click. You inhaled sharply through your nose and pulled out the clip, which was completely empty. 

Daryl. He dragged you out of the basement, thankful he’d unloaded your guns the night before. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were planning. He didn't care that you were pissed, Rick wanted Negan alive, so that's what he was going to stay, even if he did want the prick dead.

It didn't take long for you to pick up on Daryl's trauma. He was good at hiding it from others, nothing much had changed aside from him being quieter. But once your selfish rage had settled you noticed small differences. He slept closer to you at night, no longer on the other side of the mattress, and his nightmares became more violent. He'd thrash in his sleep, tossing and turning and sweating, you found yourself waking him up more times than you could count. Each time he'd get real quiet, maybe from shame, and walk outside to smoke a cigarette. You'd follow him each time and sit quietly on the porch steps, not caring that he didn't offer you a hit. He looked like he needed all he could get. 

You saw him crying with Carol once. His head dipped down and his forehead pressed against her shoulder. If it had been long ago you would've felt hot at the sight, assuming he obviously must've felt closer to her since he hadn't cried like that with you since his capture, but you weren't as shallow and selfish as you once were. Your heart ached for him, wishing he would open up and tell you what happened, you could comfort him too, you wished you could tell him that. 

“Wanna go hunting?” You asked one day, picking up your new hunting rifle, a Savage model 99 that you'd replaced your broken bow with. Daryl shrugged from his spot on the chair beside your bedroom table, not looking up from his work. He was almost always making new bolts in his free time then. He had a pile of twenty-two sitting next to him. 

“Come on, I'm craving venison.” 

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. 

“Seriously, we haven't hung out in forever man.”

“Hang out?” He said it like you asked him for a ‘playdate’. “What're ya, twelve?”

“No, I'm an adult who misses you, jackass.” You muttered, kicking one of his boots across the floor closer to him. “You've made two hundred arrows in the past week man. I think you can take a break. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've counted.”

It was when you were alone in the woods that he broke down. You hadn't even asked, he just told you after you took down a buck. He didn't cry at first, he gave a vague retelling, it was only when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders from behind that he cried. His head hung low as his chest shook with quiet sobs, his hands laying idle and nervous in his lap, his eyes looking down at the stump he sat on. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and held him for a while, your fingers occasionally giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze if his breathing grew too ragged. 

“I'll kill him. I promise. I'll find a way.”

When you were fifteen you skipped school for the first time. Your freshman year, Daryl's too. It was one of the only times you hung out that wasn't just the right time, right place. He was the one who talked you into it, since the two of you shared a history class. He brought cigarettes and a wild assortment of drugs, no doubt nabbed from Merle. 

“We should do this more.” Daryl had said as you walked the power line trails in the woods behind the school. He shrugged when you looked at him, his gaze falling to the grass in front of him. “Hang out, I mean.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You flashed a rare smile, earning one from him as well, the purple skin around his eye wrinkling. 

You never did. You were too busy with school work and getting beat on by your withdrawing mother. Daryl wasn't really busy, in fact, he was alone most of his teenage years. Always alone out in the woods. Sometimes he'd miss school for a week, living in his father's tent deep in the forest, spending his time learning to live on his own. His father never noticed, not until the school called and he got one of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten. You saw him at school a few days after that, one of his last days before he dropped out. 

He looked awful. Busted lips, bruises all over his arms, light purple handprints on his neck, and deep purple blotches around his eyes and jaw. The school called the police, but nothing ever happened. Daryl told them it was from a fight with some kid, and they happily accepted that answer, eager to miss out on the paperwork. 

“We should just leave.” You said after he pulled the cigarette back away from your lips to take a drag of his own. 

“I would.” He muttered as he held the smoke in his lungs, watching the kids in the far off soccer field chasing the ball. His legs dangled off the edge of the school roof, occasionally swinging a bit. 

“I would too.” You wouldn't. Not until you got your brother back. You looked at him, feeling an unfamiliar twist in your heart when you saw the way he flinched under your sudden gaze. “I'd kill him if I could.” 

You truly meant it. Even though Daryl was barely an acquaintance at that point, you would have killed his father if you got the chance. Daryl didn't mean much to you to be brutally honest, you didn't care to form a deep friendship with anyone, but you shared the bond of trauma from parental abuse and that was deeper than any normal friendship. He could leave, never see you again, and you wouldn't be upset, but if you ever had to witness his father touch him it would shatter your soul. 

You promised yourself you'd kill anyone who ever hurt him after that. You almost murdered Andrea when you found out she shot him. You risked being eaten alive by walkers just to make sure the Governor was really dead. You beat Dwight until Daryl dragged you off, if he hadn't done that you would've killed him. 

Things got a lot worse after the day of your failed assassination attempt. Daryl was never home anymore, either at Hilltop or Ezekiel's kingdom. You had reached the point of considering leaving again. The emotional rollercoaster you were going through was taking a heavy toll on your already fucked mental health.

He could see the effect his absence had on you, and it made him feel like shit. There wasn’t much he could do, he had so many responsibilities and he would never ask you to come with him and Rick every time they packed up and went on long trips every five seconds. It felt selfish to him, he didn’t know that you’d be more than happy to accompany him. 

His hands on your tense shoulders as you sat on the edge of your bed did wonders to loosen you up. You set your gun down beside you and looked up to him, forcing a smile. 

“C'mon sweetheart. Wanna show you somethin’.”

He took you on a long walk in the woods to a secluded pond that once belonged to a fisherman, obvious by the raggedy dock and small wooden shack filled with all sorts of fishing tools. There was still homemade canned fish in his cupboards. 

“Gonna stay here for a few days. Jus’ you an’ me.” 

You watched him over your can of trout, chewing slowly. “Really?”

Daryl shrugged and stabbed his fork into his own can. “Yeah. Ya need it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We need it.”

Your heart swelled with warm joy, a smile spread on your face and you tried your best to contain the satisfaction his gift had given you. You missed your best friend more than anyone you’d ever missed before after your baby brother. You’d come to terms with the more than likely possibility that he was dead, and so were your parents. It took a long time and many different weeks spent searching when you were back in Georgia. 

You had a fantastic time with him. You fished all morning, talked all afternoon, and ate your fill of fresh and canned fish. It wasn't long before you set up your bedrolls in the middle of the shack and blew out your candles. It felt amazing to sleep next to him again, you couldn't properly put into words how much you missed him. The feeling of his large warm body next to yours as you fell asleep had you thinking that it was all worth it. He was making an effort to spend time with you again, and with that effort came the sparks of hope, hope that you were getting your best friend back.

You woke up the first night spent with him in the fishing shack to see moonlight seeping through the holes in the tin roof. You rubbed your blurry eyes and sat up, propping yourself up with an elbow on the floor. 

“Daryl?” You murmured sleepily as your eyes came to focus in the dim light. His bedroll was still beside yours, albeit empty. You waited a few minutes before walking outside, assuming he just had to go piss or something. 

Ten minutes passed before you walked back into the shack, now carrying a small candle to light the room, cursing when the wax dripped down your knuckles. The amber glow illuminated his bedroll, bringing attention to a small white square. You leaned down and picked up the piece of paper, squinting in effort to read his handwriting. 

The pain in your chest was deep and dark. Growing up you had grown used to being disappointed by your parents and people around you. It never surprised you. Even now you didn’t expect much from people, but Daryl was that exception. So when you read his little apology, claiming Rick called on him through his walkie to request his help in the Kingdom, you decided you’d had enough.

He had been in the Kingdom for about two weeks until you heard from Rick that they were back.

“We're leaving.” You seethed the moment you stepped into your new shared bedroom with Daryl. It was upstairs in one of the apartments in Alexandria, no longer the basement in Rick's house. You had a nice king sized bed, lots of dressers and shelves, a big ass tv, and even a gaming console that once belonged to Carl. Daryl had only slept in that bed three times since you moved in months ago.

He sighed your name and stood from his seat at the table, setting down the disassembled gun he'd been cleaning. “No we ain't. Cut that shit out.” 

“I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't.” You began hyperventilating as you ripped the dresser drawer fully out, falling to your knees and quickly grabbing the clothes that spilled out. 

“Stop.” When you didn't comply he made you stop, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to look at him. He spoke in that serious tone that felt like a stab to the chest, his eyes burning holes into yours. “I'm not leavin'.” 

You froze at his words. Your mouth opened and your lips trembled, your breath catching in your throat. The words never came to you. You just stared at him with wide eyes and a horrified look of disbelief.

Daryl didn't speak either. He stood his ground, maintaining a firm gaze, his grip on your wrists slowly loosening. 

It hurt. And that made you angry. 

“Who even are you anymore?” You hissed, tearing your hands away from him and shooting up on your feet. “I never see you anymore, you're cold, distant.” He got to his feet, accepting each blow of your words with this calm face that turned your anger into lividness. 

“You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised you'd always be the one thing Daryl, the one thing that wouldn't change, wouldn't leave, wouldn't hurt me, I kept my promise!” Your finger hammered against your own chest in reference. “You say you're never leaving but you already left! I can see it in your eyes, don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about.” Your face burned. “I can see it. The pity, the disdain. The only reason you haven't just kicked me out is cause you feel like you're obligated to me now, or maybe you're scared I'm some loose canon and I'll burn this fucking house down-”

Daryl had heard enough, he lurched forward until he was inches away from you, his nostrils flared due to his increasingly heavy breathing. “You're fuckin’ delusional!” He spat. “You don't think this is hard on me too? Don't think I'd rather be out there livin’ in some cabin with you? That shit ain't happenin’, these people are family. I ain't leavin' ‘em neither. Shit don't mean I don't care ‘bout ya anymore. We ain't in Atlanta, ‘ts not like that anymore. Ain't just me you ‘n Merle.”

“We should've just left. We should've just left.” You repeated in a breathy whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his chest. 

“Yeah? Well, we didn't, now we can't. Now I won't.” The purposeful enunciation of the last word was the straw that broke the camel's back, and he immediately regretted it as soon as your eyes squeezed shut. “G’damnit.” 

“Fine.” Your breath was shaky, and you resumed packing. 

He found it impossible to stop you, impossible to move. In reality all it would take from him was a simple request for you to stay, but he couldn't even manage that. It felt like watching a fire you started get out of control, he knew he still had the power to stop it, but he was too stunned to move. 

You zipped up the same second duffle bag you'd packed with the same intention on leaving, just as you'd done before. This time though, it wasn't the same. It felt too final. You knew it would be the last time. Daryl did too, and he still didn’t stop you.

You’d set up camp deep in the woods down a dirt road that led to a pond. You slept in your car with your campfire a few feet away, a pot of wild carrots and rabbit simmering over the coals. It smelt amazing due to your stolen beef bouillon cubes, but you didn’t really have the motivation to eat. You flicked away the first cigarette of your last pack and stared into the red hot coals, watching them ebb and glow until the flash of something large and dark caught your eye. 

You stared in disbelief as you watched his figure move through the thick trees, making his way over to your little camp beside the car you'd stolen from Alexandria. He had a heavy bag with him. 

He plopped his bag down next to your fire and sat down, helping himself to a bowl of your stew. He said nothing, not even looking up at you as he finished your supper.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

He looked up at you and sucked the grease from his fingertips, the empty bowl now discarded at his side. You had no idea how he’d managed to get his fingers coated in rabbit fat, it was fucking soup and he used a spoon. “Ts’it look like?”

You couldn't move, your feet glued to the debris of the forest floor. Your mind spun with questions. If he was actually willing to leave with you, leave all those people behind, why had he shut you out? Why had he changed? What changed? 

“I don't want you here. It's an obvious act of charity.” You finally spoke, watching as he lit a wrinkled cigarette. “You told me yourself-”

“Will ya shut up?” He squinted up at you through the burn of smoke. “Jus’ walked six  damn days to find ya. M’not leavin'.” 

You sat on the opposite side of the fire in silence. He scooted around to sit next to you, and held his cigarette up to your lips. You took a weak pull and sighed. After a while of not speaking, you broke the silence. 

“You're so different. Changed so much”

He nodded at your words, his head tilted down to stare at the leaves between his legs. “Had to.”

“Why?” The question burst from your lips so quickly that it surprised you. 

“You.” He took a deep pull off his cigarette and blew it out the opposite side of his mouth to avoid blowing it directly in your face. “This ain't the kind of life you deserve. Tryin’ to get that for ya. That little house ya dreamed of living in, one with a screened in porch for plants ‘n shit. Life that ya ain't spendin’ hungry, cold, scared.”

He paused for a moment, taking another long drag. “Wanted me to be better too. The kinda man to pick ya flowers, take ya on dates, all that stupid shit.” He flicked the spent cigarette into the fire and leaned back against your car door. 

If it was possible, you were feeling every emotion all at once, in such a rapid and disorienting fashion that it looped back around and made you too shocked to feel. 

He delved deeper, explaining that he felt you deserved better than who he once was, Merle’s echo, a loud and angry asshole, then turned into a cold and traumatized shell, never allowing himself to feel vulnerable with you again. When he finally broke out of it and realized exactly what he wanted, he worked on himself in a determined attempt to be the man you dreamed of marrying as a kid.He worked on your surroundings as well, making sure to eliminate any possible threat in every colony that had even the slightest chance of risking your livelihood. But more importantly, he wanted to be yours. The type of husband you described when you were thirteen years old, cleaning the blood from his swollen ear one of the nights he slept on your back porch. 

“I'm not gonna be like my mom.” You had said firmly, tossing away the bloody tissue paper. “I'm gonna get a good husband and I'm not gonna mess it all up like she did.”

“A good husband?” He questioned curiously, wincing as you dabbed his ear with rubbing alcohol. 

“Yeah, like…. He'll take me on dates, open doors for me, buy me cool stuff, uh….” You trailed off in thought. “He's gonna build me a house too. With a screen porch that I can put a hundred plants in, and he won't be allowed to smoke in it. Oh, he won't smoke, actually. Or drink, or do drugs. He'll never hit me or yell at me like my mom did to my dad, and to me. He'll be handsome too. And smart.”

You were brought to the present with a jolt as Daryl’s hand touched your knee, making you jump. You didn't notice your eyes had started watering and you quickly went to discreetly dab them dry. 

“Guess I fucked up. M’sorry. Was a real piece of shit.”

“No,” your voice broke as you stopped him, grabbing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. “Complete opposite of a piece of shit. I had the wrong idea, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Tsh. Nah.” Daryl waved you off and shook his head. “Should’a told ya. Wasn't thinkin' right.” 

The two of you sat in thoughtful silence until the embers began to grow dim. The forest was thick, so even though the sun was visible as it sank lower and lower, it soon became too dark to see properly. 

“My…” you broke the silence, searching for the right word. “Aspirations have changed since then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Several seconds of silence.

“How'so?”

“Well, I don't care if he smokes, or does drugs, or curses or can't take me out on a date. He doesn't have to build me a house, but that's still an option.” Daryl snorted, and you went on. “But he does have to own a crossbow, ride a motorcycle without a helmet even though I tell him to, and he definitely needs this,” your finger tapped on the skull tattoo on the back of his hand before sliding up his arm to stroke a line down his back, “and these tattoos. And this.” You touched the mole over his upper lip. “And he definitely has to slur all his words together because of his accent.” 

“That's all, huh?” He joked softly, watching you draw your hand away from his face. “Y’got some low standards for a husband.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. He also has to go back to his family, because that's where he belongs.” There was a quick flash of hurt on his face, his lips parting and his eyes narrowing, so you continued. “And because that's where my dream house is going to be built.” 

In all your years knowing Daryl Dixon, you'd never been sexually intimate. You'd never had sex, flirtation only being reserved for playful teasing banter, you'd never really kissed, aside from that one night at the Greene farm. You'd laid with each other multiple times, more often than not sleeping curled up together in the woods or on the floor of some house. Despite never being sexually intimate there was an unspoken mutual understanding of your relationship, you were together, but not in the traditional standard sense. Neither of you ever had interest in a relationship with anyone, that was simply out of the question. Why have a partner when your best friend is everything you need? 

He became your partner at some point, maybe that's why it caused so much anguish to the both of you when you left. But it was only that night that you solidified it. And the next morning, and in the back of the car on your way back, and on the hood of the car, and after your shower back home, and after dinner, on your bed, on the floor, a second time after that, right before bed, and again the moment you woke up. 

It started with a kiss, which just so happened to be his second ever kiss, the first being you in the back of Dale’s RV. You wouldn't have ever guessed, the way he kissed with so much passion and vigor felt akin to a man kissing the same pair of lips he'd kissed his entire life. And you would have never guessed he was a virgin. 

Each touch was as if he was handling precious glassware. He never took off any of your clothes, he'd just gently tug at your shirt until you got the hint and undressed yourself. 

At some point you moved to the back of the car, he laid you down and closed the door behind him. Your soft pants and gasps quickly led to the windows fogging over, and by the end of it there were beads of precipitation dribbling down the glass. 

He led graciously. His fingers were gentle but firm against your clit through your panties, working hard and with determination to give you the orgasm you deserved. He obeyed your requests for ‘circles, ah, softer, to the left, more’, and before long he was a master in the art of making you come. 

Daryl wanted to give you oral, but you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head as you gasped for air. “N-no, please. You. Need you.” 

It was shocking that he didn't feel embarrassed when he came early. You'd reached down to stroke his cock, only getting in a few strokes before he pulled away with a strangled gasp, spilling his hot cum on your bare stomach. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because only seconds later you were taking him in your desperate mouth, giving it your all to make him hard again. 

He didn't take long. After stiffening in your mouth he eased your head away, maneuvering you on your back in such an effortless way that it made you look like you weighed nothing. Due to your wetness and unimaginable arousal it didn't hurt at all when he finally pushed in after rubbing his cock all over your desperate slick flesh. 

You cried out anyway. Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, clutching at his bare shoulders when you felt his pelvis fully connect with you. 

“F-fuck.” You groaned as your eyes rolled back, digging your fingers deeper into his skin.

He let out a moan then, a light and vulnerable sound. You could feel him shaking on top of you as he fought not to finish again. It broke your heart, knowing he wanted to have sex with you so badly, to please you like you had him. 

You stayed as still as humanly possible while you waited for him to move. 

Daryl’s breath slowed and he moved, finally. He fucked you slow at first, slow and deep thrusts that managed to bury his dick further and further inside you each time. With each thrust he let out either a shaky whimper or a deep grunt, and soon he was picking up the pace, fucking a moan out of you each time he drove his throbbing cock back inside. 

When his hand connected with the warm skin of your torso you whimpered, tossing your head back against the car seat. His hands stroked your sides, rough and dirty fingers scraping against your nipples and breasts. He gave one a firm squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from you, one that he eagerly swallowed down with his hungry mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He was breathing heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air sending waves of heat across your upper lip and cheeks.

A rough slam of his pelvis against yours sent the tip of his cock so deep it was almost painful, your gasp choked in your tight throat, your thighs squeezing the life out of his torso. He groaned at how responsive you were, his hot wet lips sliding down your face to start kissing your neck. 

Daryl was quiet in the sense that he didn't say much. He groaned and whimpered, sure, but he hadn’t said a word since entering you. Which was totally fine by you, but you were a sucker for dirty talk. It was one of your favorite parts of sex.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, hoping to get a response. He just grunted, a possible returned compliment, his head not moving from the crook of your neck. 

A noticeable increase in his pacing had all thoughts vanishing from your mind in a puff of smoke. You could feel the side of his jaw clenching against your neck, the skin hot and prickly with stubble, the friction eventually becoming uncomfortable. As if he could read your mind he raised his head and looked down at you, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth, looking like a man in deep, oh, deep, concentration. 

“Fu-uh-uck-” You babbled, your heavy eyelids shutting against the brutal force of his thrusts. You grabbed onto his biceps again and held on for dear life, giving them a squeeze each time he gave a really deep thrust. 

“That’s it.” Your heart jumped in your chest at the sound of his voice, it was gravely and sounded from the base of his throat. You felt your lower stomach do that delicious flip sensation, your clit throbbing in response to his voice. 

“Mmm’god.”

“I know. I know.” He breathed, taking a second to readjust himself between your legs before going back to his artistic thrusting. He was grinding against you then, barely pulling out, using the full weight of his hips to force himself as deep as possible while he ground into you. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, it was a miracle that a virgin could fuck like that. He was a savant at something he’d never done before. You came hard around his throbbing dick, your walls clenching down so hard that it ripped his orgasm straight out of his body. 

You gasped, your fingers tightening around his flexed biceps as your orgasm shook through you in violent waves. You moved your hips on your own, grinding up and against his pelvis to draw your pleasure  out for  as long as possible. 

Daryl wasn't expecting it, he just came. His jaw dropped and he held onto the nearest body part, which just so happened to be your neck. He didn’t choke you, which came as a slight dismissible disappointment, he just held onto you with his large hands as he finished. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t control the sounds he made, better for you, he let out this beautiful high moan that sent flashes of Daryl in Atlanta behind your closed eyes. His body shuttered and jerked as every single rope of his cum flooded your insides, coating your vice like walls like spilled paint. 

You didn’t give him time to recuperate. You squirmed under him, swapping your positions, and took his softening cock in your mouth. He groaned under you, grabbing you by your hair to pull you away, only to shudder when he felt his cock growing hard again. You smirked against the tip as he gently pulled you back down.

Halfway through he tugged you off of him, the two of you switching spots once again. You whined when you felt his lips connect with your puffy clit, your mind swirling as he used the flexed tip of his tongue to drift between your slick folds. 

“Oh god, daryl.” You panted and ran your fingers through your sweaty hair to push it back over your head. You were either extremely sensitive due to the two orgasms, or he was an extremely skilled pussy eater. Either way you came fast, clenching your thighs around his head to clamp his mouth tight against you. He didn’t ease up as you came, his tongue and lips pulling tricks you didn’t think possible, drawing out your orgasm longer than any time previously. 

He slid up between your legs, planting kisses from your wet mess up your stomach to your chest. He suddenly bit down on one of your nipples, gentle at first, but the moan that came from your lips had him tightening his teeth.

You were under the impression that he would ease you down from your high with light kisses and soft touches, but apparently, he had other plans. His cock plunged back into you before you had any idea what was happening, and he quickly set a fast and intense pace. His hands slipped around both of your wrists and pulled, using the leverage to both fuck you deeper and keep you firmly in place.

If you could’ve seen the state you were in, you’d be a red hot embarrassed bitch. Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes fluttering between open and closed, sounds coming from your throat that envied any moan and whine to ever come out of a woman's mouth. Your hair kept falling back in your face each time his hips slammed into yours, no matter how many times you hastily pushed it away or tucked it behind your ears. You looked at him for as long as you could, but you were too stimulated, it was too hot, he was too beautiful, you had to let them fall shut as you came again.

As cliche as it sounds, your final orgasm, for that night at least, was world shattering. You didn’t care how loud you were or what types of faces you were making. Your body was completely out of your control, your brain on pause as it struggled to deal with the flood of dopamine and oxytocin. 

Daryl wasn’t looking any better, he’d ran miles before and came out looking more put together. He huffed as he came inside you yet again, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum. He braced himself on his elbows on either side of your body, his head drooping down as he managed a few sloppy thrusts. He muttered something then, something you were too fucked up to make out through his thick and slurred accent.

When he finally drew his red and tender dick out of you his heart seemed to skip a beat. The two loads spilled out the second he withdrew, trickling down your folds and over the swollen head of his dick. That was a sight he’d remember till the day he died.  

You fought to catch your breath after he all but collapsed on top of you. It was pure bliss for a few moments, and then it was too hot and too close. Before you could say anything he lifted himself off of you, still waging his own war against his lungs. 

“Getting old there, huh?” You teased, sliding up into a sitting position after grabbing your panties. Yeah, he's old, it's not the fact you just did the same amount of exercise as swimming across the atlantic ocean.

“Shut up.” He breathed as he wiped his damp hair from his face. 

After a few moments of silence, apart from the sounds of your breathing, you dressed yourselves and began loading all your shit into your car. 

“You really walked six days? No bike, no car?” You questioned as he plopped down into the driver's seat, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face. The smell of cigarette smoke had you leaning over and he pressed the filter against your lips. 

“No bike.”

“That’s kind of stupid.”

“Huh. Rich.” He smirked around the cigarette at you before glancing over his shoulder to watch the dirt road as he reversed.

“Yeah, true.”

Your life wasn’t magically fixed after that night, and neither was Daryls, but it did get a lot easier. You zipped up your coat but your shoes were still full of snow, that kind of better. A lot of shit happened, you had your arguments, but no fights. After RIck died you ran off together looking for his body, for Daryl’s closure, living off in the woods somewhere with a dog that liked to growl at you. He was over possessive of Daryl, and so were you, so the two of you were butting heads often.

He never did build you that house, but you moved into one of the newly built homes in Alexandria. He did build you a back porch, which looked great for someone who’d never built an entire screened in porch before, even if it did look a little raggedy in some spots. He even brought home pots for you to plant ‘shit’ in, as he said. 

Daryl wasn’t home often, which didn't bother you anymore, because you were out there with him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @louifaith @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[witchofhimring]

Family tensions (short fic)

Pairings: Tamlin x Reader, Feyre x Rhysand, Nyx x OC (Tamlin and Readers daughter)

Synopsis: Your daughter Tamar is mated to Rhysandss son Nyx.

Warnings: family tensions

Despite your insistent that this was in fact not the end of the word Tamlin still insisted this was the worst thing to happen. 'Have those Illyrian rats not taken enough from me!' Following your husband up the flight of stairs, you attempted to convince him that Tamar might just love Nyx. Of course you did not fully blame him. Given his past with the Night Court and its ruling lord and lady one could understand. You were torn between wanting to protect your husband and look out for Tamara. 'Perhaps we should talk to Tamar first?' Tamlin turned around. 'That is exactly what I intend to do!'

Unfortunately, the pair of you had horrible timing. Because when the door to Tamara's room was opened it was not just your daughter there, but Nyx.

Tamlin looked ready to pass out. There his daughter and Nyx were, Tamara on his lap reading a book. The moment they realized who had walked in both jumped up. 'What is this!?' Behind Tamlin came you. 'Hello Nyx.' You said politely. Oh dear. Nyx's blue eyes went back and forth between Tamara and Tamlin.

'Father, this is Nyx.' Tamara, looking unrepentant, stared defiantly at her father. It occurred to you that Tamara did not know the whole story between your families. Perhaps you should have been more forthcoming. 'Tamara dear, could we talk about this in private?' You gave Nyx a tremulous smile. 'Yes. Boy, leave.' Nyx ignored your husband. Placing himself protectively before Tamara, Nyx drew himself to his full height. 'Tamlin calm down. Nyx could you go to your parents and speak to them about this?' It was best to deal with this diplomatically. Tamlin was mostly calm these days. Years had passed since you last saw him so angry.

'Nyx. You go and I will deal with my father.' Tamara placed a hand on Nyx's shoulder. 'Are you sure.' Nyx seemed unwilling to go. 'I will be fine. You being here will make things harder. Go back to your parents.' Reluctantly Nyx left, only when he was sure Tamara was safe. Against your will, you liked him for that.

'You were where!?' His father was leaning forward on the armchair of the throne. Nyx stood before his parents in the throne room. Empty except for them three of them, Nyx was wondering just how well this would go. His father had no love for the Lord of the Spring Court. To heard that his son was courting that lords daughter might just send him.

'Is that where you have been.' His mother sat on the throne. Rhysand looked towards his wife. 'You knew?' 'No my love. I had no idea where Nyx was. But our son is nearly grown now. Should he not be allowed to chose who he loves?' Feyre, although not having ever fully forgiven Tamlin, was of a mixed mind. She did not know his eldest child well. But the few times they met Tamara had been polite. And if this had been going on for years then perhaps this was not a hasty decision. Rhysand had no such debates. In this mind this was terrible. Under no circumstances was he to be in laws with Tamlin of all people.

'I do love her father.' Rhysand raised an eyebrow. 'And what if this is a plot?' Both Feyre and Nyx looked shocked. 'Father-you can not mean-) Nyx spluttered. 'Tamara is true to me. And Lord Tamlin was nearly red with rage and-'Rhysand raised a hand. 'I'm sorry, he was what?' 'Furious. I doubt Lord Tamlin will agreed to this marriage.' Suddenly Rhysand smiled, eyes lighting up. Suddenly this marriage seemed like a terrific idea. 'Furious was he.' Rhysand was starting to think this marriage was not such a bad idea.

The idea that Tamlin might be furious over this possible marriage made the idea of uniting their families seemed a splendid idea. Rhysand nearly giggled himself sick with delight. Feyre told him he best behave. Especially since a month later they were invited to the Spring Court. Tamlin did not greet them. Feyre had never met Lady Y/n, but she had been polite, although warry. Feyre could understand why. If it had been the other way around she might be hesitant. Yet Y/n was polite and soon they were in the tea room. Feyre could not believe how different this place looked. Everything was so tidy and had a homely feel to it. Cakes and eat were placed on marble tea tables. Conversation was slightly stilted, Y/n seemed careful of every word she said. And that was when Tamlin entered. Feyre's hands clenched with anxiety. While Y/n was courteous Tamlin might not show the same restraint. Taking a seat, Tamlin kissed his wife on the cheek.

It was mostly Feyre and yourself talking. Despite your apprehensions she seemed nice enough. On the other side sat Tamlin and Rhysand sitting in stony silence. Tamlin seemed to be looking anywhere else but Rhysand, and Rhysand's mouth was placed in a frown. While the mothers seemed quite happy to chatter amongst themselves, the fathers looked like to smack each other. You prayed this would go well.

that was when Nyx and Tamara entered.

Notes: I plan to make more fics for this concept. This is kind of shorter than I would have liked but oh well. As I wrote this on a whim future fics might be slightly different. Hope you liked it! 💕

[jahayla-parker]

do you mind doing a Kaz fic where she has had a crush a month before but is convinced it’s a lost cause bc he talks to inej a lot, but (PLOT TWIST) the reason he talks to inej is because he’s unsure if y/n likes him back? Angst with a happy ending?

-🍁

Lock and Key : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Descr: 4.5k wc, Reader and Kaz have unspoken feelings for each other. But Kaz’s attempts to work through what to do only cause misunderstandings and upsets. Until it all comes out and feelings are finally revealed. Hurt-comfort, angst-fluff.

Warnings: misunderstandings, SoC content. One curse word.

Notes: I’m SOOO sorry this took so long. It got lost in my requests!

Y/n sat on the edge of the roof kicking swinging legs back and forth. She bit into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself calm; too many thoughts racing through her mind tonight. Needless, futile, stupid, jealous thoughts. She quickly released her lip from her teeth as she felt eyes on her. She scanned the skyline before relenting to who she’d assumed it was from the start and turned to look over her shoulder, “yes?”

Y/n watched as Inej made herself seen and slowly approached. That friendly smile of hers felt taunting in this moment. But y/n pasted one on herself before turning back to face the Ketterdam rooftops.

“Why are you out here this late?” Inej questioned softly as she carefully sat down beside y/n.

Y/n shrugged silently, not looking away from the skyline. She wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. When Inej wanted something, she got that thing. If only she hadn’t happened to want Kaz the way y/n did. But y/n refused to tell Inej that that was what had brought her out here tonight.

“Y/n, come on, everyone can tell you’re upset,” Inej remarked as the gray clouds above them began to drip rain onto the girls.

“I’m fine,” y/n retorted simply, briefly glancing at Inej’s side-profile.

Inej stared at y/n skeptically. “No one chooses to sit on a rooftop this late, in this weather, if they’re fine,” she argued.

“It wasn’t raining until you got here,” y/n pointed out with a shrug. Fitting. Her love life didn’t feel like it was going through a downpour until Inej entered the picture either. How ironic.

“I’m not just talking about tonight, y/n/n,” Inej sighed. “You’ve been distant and… sad.”

Inej had a point. Of course she did. Y/n had spent the last several weeks trying to distance herself from the crows. Well… from Kaz. And Inej. And mostly Kaz and Inej together. Which was occurring more often than not lately. The images from the last month played back in her mind yet again as if to remind her of her misery.

Y/n twirled the shiny coin around in between her pointer and middle finger as she practically bounced her way up the stairs to Kaz’s room, a smile on her face. She’d managed to trick some rich merchant into giving it to and she thought Kaz would love it. Maybe he’d even be proud of her for such an achievement. Although, truthfully she’d simply done it because she wanted him to have it thanks to the hopeless crush she’d developed a few weeks ago. Kaz didn’t date. Kaz didn’t look at anyone that way. Y/n included. But, maybe…

Y/n hummed to herself, knocking briefly on Kaz’s wooden door before letting herself in. She paused promptly upon realizing he wasn’t alone. Inej was here. Y/n swallowed thickly as she shifted her stance a bit. “I… umm.., sorry-,” she mumbled.

Inej stepped away from Kaz with a soft shake of her head as she smiled at y/n. “Hey y/n,” she greeted sweetly. “He’s all yours, I was just leaving,” she told the girl.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as her heart sank over Kaz’s immediate response to Inej’s words. His hand. He was… Kaz had reached out and gripped Inej’s wrist to stop her from leaving. He didn’t do that sorta thing. That wasn’t him. Yet, here he was. Doing that. Touching her. Inej. Y/n couldn’t help but stare at the hold Kaz had on Inej’s wrist. His gloves were on… but still.. he didn’t touch people. He didn’t react like that. So instinctual that he’d physically stop someone instead of using his words commands. He really didn’t want her to leave. She tore her eyes away from their hands only to find an equally, if not more, painful sight.

Kaz and Inej stood silently, staring at each other, no words exchanged but both wore meaningful expressions.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as she tried to swallow. This wasn’t happening. She knew the chances of her crush being anything but a crush were slim. Especially given it was on Kaz. But… The one time she held romantic feelings for someone this happened? What’re the odds her crush would get over his trouble being open with people only to fall for someone else? Her hand holding the coin trembled lightly at her side as she analyzed Kaz’s face. He was stern and serious, but instead of his ever-present stoic expression, his eyes seemed to be…. They were almost… pleading. Ouch. She couldn’t make out Inej’s expression fully from this angle. But from what she could see, Inej held a tender gaze and a small but warm smile. Y/n squeezed her eyes shut tightly as if that would somehow make the sight before her disappear. “Umm..,” she cleared her throat, feeling as though she was interrupting… something. Something she wished she wasn’t happening. But it was. “I, sorry,” she repeated as she slowly opened her eyes. They finally stopped touching and were both now facing her. “I didn’t mean to…,” y/n shook her head, unable to say the words. “Anyways, I umm…,” she mumbled.

“Y/n,” Kaz spoke, his stoic expression back in place. “Out with it,” he instructed.

Hearing his gruff voice say her name in a moment like this hurt. But not as much as him ordering her to get on with it did. He didn’t want her here. She’d interrupted his time… his moment… with Inej. Inej was who he wanted to be speaking with, who he wanted to have present in the room now. Not y/n. “Right,” y/n creaked. “I just, I thought you might want this,” she explained, walking over to his desk. The coin clanged against the table top as she placed it down.

“Where..? Where did you g-,” Kaz began to ask as y/n stepped back from the desk.

“I made a deal with a merchant,” y/n shrugged, pretending it was nothing. In truth, it wasn’t nothing. It had taken her a week and a half to arrange and wasn’t the safest plan. But now… now it truly didn’t matter. In the end, maybe it was nothing.

Kaz scrutinized the rare coin from a distance, not having moved from the spot he was in when y/n first entered. As he looked up from his desk, he found she’d made her way to the door. He felt Inej watching him knowingly, but he didn’t know what to say. Why had y/n gotten this coin? And why had she given it to him? Had she done something she was trying to cover up? Or perhaps trying to get ahead of some mistake she might make later? Or…? No.

“It’s really shiny,” Inej commented with an encouraging smile.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Kaz spoke, picking up on Inej’s not-so-subtle hint to talk to y/n.

Y/n nodded, “I know”. She swallowed and turned her gaze away from the soft way Inej was looking at Kaz. “Goodnight”. It was a weird exit, but what else was she supposed to say after that?

—-

Y/n halted in the doorway, unconsciously stumbling backwards a bit. This was getting to be too much. First it was walking in on their moment. Then it was watching Inej go to his office every single night for the past week. But now this? She hadn’t realized she’d moved backwards, away from the scene before her until she felt her back bump into someone. She silently turned around. Nina. She offered her friend and fellow crow an apologetic expression, not having known she was behind her. She watched as Nina noticed the scene that was now behind y/n, her eyes widening with surprise before quickly narrowing in confusion. She couldn’t hear this. Nina loved gossip. She loved Nina. But she couldn’t bear to talk about the potential romance between Kaz and Inej. Before Nina could react further or comment, y/n side stepped her in the narrow hallway and quickly left the safe house. She made her way to the backside of the building and rested her back against the brick wall as her butt slid to the ground. Breathe. It’s fine. She has no claim to him anyways. It was an unrequited crush. Is. Not was. As much as she’d hoped the tortuous observations of the last week would break her crush, they didn’t. They just broke her instead.

—

“Y/n? You have to talk to someone about whatever is-” Inej’s voice pleaded, bringing y/n back to the present moment. A moment where y/n had ventured out of The Crow Club in hopes the cold air would relieve some of the ache in her chest from having witnessed her crush and his crush on what seemed like a date. Except now, to add to her never ending embarrassment and heartbreak, her crush’s crush was now questioning her as to what was troubling her. Saints she really has the worst luck. It hurt even more because she and Inej used to be close. She didn’t want to lose her friend. But every time she saw Inej now, it physically hurt. Hence why she was trying to distance herself from Kaz and her both. Until her heart had time to heal and move on.

Y/n shook her head.

Inej set a soft hand on y/n’s rain-soaked shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything,” she reminded the girl.

“No I can’t!” Y/n cried. Her eyes widened in shock over her outburst and she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, ignoring the fact that due to it being rainy tiny grains from the roof’s shingles had transferred to her hand and were now poking her face.

“What?” Inej frowned. “Why not?” When she didn’t get a response, she sighed. “Please? If I did something wrong I’d like to fix it”.

Y/n felt a few guilty tears escape her eyes. She wiped the grains off her face before she lowered her hand back to the shingles under them. “You didn’t, Inej… I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly, “you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then why can’t you talk to me?” Inej asked.

Y/n sighed. “I’m just… working through something,” she explained vaguely.

Inej nodded, “I’d like to help”.

“Inej… Thank you, truly,” y/n replied. “But, it’s not fair for me to talk to you about this”. Inej hadn’t done this intentionally. It wasn’t fair for y/n to be upset with her. Or to be upset about it at all. But she was.

“So it does involve me,” Inej interpreted. “Y/n, please just tell me, I know your heart, I know you won’t mean any malice with whatever it is…”

Y/n sighed. Maybe this is what it would take. Maybe this would help her accept the way things were. Maybe it would help her finally be able to move on. To have Inej back as a friend. To not have an ache in her chest every time she looked at Kaz. Maybe even to be happy for them finding love together. Oww. That one still stung. Maybe that one would take longer. It wasn’t fair to make Inej feel guilty for this. But perhaps by telling her, maybe Inej would adjust her behaviors so that it wasn’t so in her face. Not that Inej owed her that. And y/n could never dare ask for that. But Inej was caring. Maybe she’d offer to keep her and Kaz’s affairs more secret. At least until y/n moved on.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… and please don’t tell anyone, especially him…,” y/n pleaded. She felt bad for asking Inej to keep a secret from her… boyfriend? Is that was she and Kaz were now? She shook the question off. “But, I… kinda sorta… may have developed a little bit of a crush on…” she mumbled slowly. “Kaz, and I know how insane that it is. I knew the even before I knew about you two. But now I feel even worse about it,” she rushed out as quickly as possible. “And I’m so sorry Inej! I-”.

“Wait..,” Inej interrupted, resting her palm on y/n’s shoulder. “Why are you apologizing to me for liking Kaz?” She asked.

“Because it’s not fair to you! And I would never act on it now that I know, I swear!” Y/n vowed.

“Now that you know what?” Inej questioned, choosing just one of the many questions she now had.

“Inej,” y/n sighed as she looked her way. “I know about you and Kaz,” she informed her. “And I’m happy for you, really! It’s just that right now-”.

Inej couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry,” she apologized. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, there’s nothing between me and Kaz,” she promised.

Y/n gave Inej a look of frustration. “Inej,” she scolded.

“I swear on every single Saint out there, I have no feelings for Kaz and he has none for me,” Inej spoke softly.

Y/n looked away for a moment, contemplating the last month. “I’ve seen it,” she argued. Maybe they were both too clueless to see it themselves? Was she really now going to have to point out to Inej how Kaz saw her? How he’d unknowingly chosen her over y/n? The universe was cruel.

“What are you-,” Inej began.

“You’re always in his office. He doesn’t let many people do that Inej. Then there’s the way he’s always looking over at you randomly. The way he tended to your wounds after the fight with Marcello. It first dawned on me when I saw the way he reached for your hand to stop you from leaving when I came to give him that damn coin,” y/n rambled, facing the skyline so as to not let Inej see her tears.

Inej closed her eyes as she was hit with guilt. She hadn’t considered how those things looked. Her eyes opened upon hearing y/n try to stifle a sniffle. She promptly stood up and held her hand out for y/n who gazed up at her in confusion. “Trust me, please,” Inej requested.

Kaz’s eyes snapped to the window as y/n and Inej made their way back inside. His eyes scanned y/n’s appearance but stopped upon seeing her red eyes. He turned his gaze to Inej in question as the Wraith looked his way.

Inej sensed the way y/n tensed up beside her. No, No, No. It wasn’t like that. No wonder y/n thought Kaz liked her. He was looking at her a lot lately. But it wasn’t for the reasons y/n thought! She turned to her friend and gripped her hand tightly. She wordlessly made her way to Kaz, dragging the girl with her. She gave Kaz a knowing stare, “now”.

Inej noticed the way Kaz seemed reluctant. Still. After everything she’d tried to do to convince him the past month. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a look. “Kaz, I’m dead serious. You have to tell her,” she commanded in a whispered but sharp tone.

Y/n heard Inej’s whisper and tugged on the hand that was keeping her from fleeing. “Inej?” She asked, uncertain where this was going.

Inej faced y/n with a supportive smile and shook her head. “I promise, it’ll all be made clear”. Her head snapped to the left as she narrowed her eyes at Kaz. “Won’t it Kaz?”

Kaz squinted in confusion. He looked over at y/n, trying to ignore the way her reddened eyes made his chest hurt. “What is it that is unclear?”

Y/n rapidly shook her head as she stared at Inej.

Inej sighed. Y/n didn’t want her to say anything. But it would be in y/n’s best interest if Inej ignored those wishes. “I…,” she began, but stopped. Kaz needed to do this. He needed to be the one to tell her. She worked with him for a month on this. The misunderstandings that were troubling y/n couldn’t be for nothing. “Just…. Tell her. Now,” she ordered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before quickly leaving. She shut the door behind her and sighed as she silently prayed to her Saints for Kaz to finally tell y/n.

“Kaz?” Y/n asked nervously as she turned back to him after having watched Inej abandon her here.

“I’ve been keeping something from you,” Kaz confessed, his anxious eyes scanning her every move as he tried to read her mind. He watched as she nodded. Did she already know? No. If she did she wouldn’t be standing here. But maybe that’s why she had been crying. No. Inej wouldn’t demand he tell her if she already knew. So why was she nodding? And why had she been crying?

“Sometimes I hate you,” Kaz told her.

“You hate me?”

This wasn’t how Inej had instructed him to tell her when they rehearsed earlier tonight. But if he had to do this now and not on his own time, when he knew for certain how y/n felt, then this was how it was going to go. Not like it would matter anyways. It was likely unrequited.

“Sometimes. You’ve ruined things”.

“I… I… didn’t mean to”.

“That’s just it y/n,” he sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not even fair for me to hate you from time to time over this because you didn’t mean to do any it. You didn’t mean to drive me insane. You didn’t mean to make me break the one vow I made to myself…”

“I don’t…”

“I told myself I’d never let someone in,” Kaz explained. “And then, you….” He groaned. “I don’t know how you did it. And I know you didn’t mean to. So, I know you don’t feel the same. But that doesn’t mean I don’t despise the fact you managed to do this”.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel this way!” Kaz rose his voice.

She squinted. “What are you talking about?” “You’re mad I managed to make you hate me?” she asked, seeking clarification.

“No! Dammit,” Kaz scoffed. “I’m mad you made me feel.”

“Feel what?”

“Everything.”

“Wh…?”

“You made me feel, y/n. In general. But also things I had buried years ago, with the intent to never feel again. You made me feel and I hate it.”

“Are you…? No… You’re not… You’re not actually suggesting you have feelings for me, are you?” Y/n asked in offense. Would he really stoop to this level?

Kaz looked away from her, opting to stare at his windowsill instead.

“If you’re trying to do this to keep your relationship with Inej a secret you don’t have to, I won’t-”.

Kaz choked on his breath. “My what?! …with who?!”

“Kaz”.

“No,” he cut her off as he shook his head and stepped closer. “Is that…” he began. Unlikely. He was probably projecting by thinking it might have something to do with why she’s been distant. Frustration took over as he found his mind to be a mess of crossed wires and chaos. He’d tried to express his feelings to best he can but was still not successful in getting her to understand. He knew she might not feel same way but still, this was annoying. “I’m not trying to con anyone,” he said, voice coming out a bit angry from his disbelief. He’d just confessed his feelings and she was questioning his sincerity and intentions? “If I was trying to hide my… feelings.. would I have just admired that vulnerability to you?” He asked rhetorically.

“But… you…”

“What?”

“The looks”.

“Excuse me?” Kaz sighed. “Full sentences would be great, y/n”.

“I’ve seen the way you are with her,” y/n defended.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, brow raised.

“First, there was when I came in to give you the-,” she paused as her eyes caught sight of the item in question. He kept it. He hadn’t sold it. And not only did he keep it, he had it on a cushioned pad on his desk. He never kept trinkets on his desk. Focus. “That coin,” she said bringing the conversation back. “I walked in on… Well I don’t really know but, I saw the way you didn’t want her to leave. I clearly interpreted something and you didn’t want me to see it but I could tell you didn’t want her to leave”.

Kaz hummed in understanding. “You did interpret something that night.” He ran his hands over the coin in question for a moment in silence before putting it back down. “And you’re right. You don’t know what it was.” He sighed as he felt his cheeks flush. “I had asked Inej to help me with a project”. When she nodded slowly, he hesitantly continued. “That’s all”.

“It was really important,” y/n recalled, picturing the way he’d actually grabbed for Inej’s wrist.

“It was.” Kaz swallowed. “I tasked her with finding out how you’d feel if I told you…. If we had this conversation,” he corrected.

“What about when you were fixing her cuts from the fight against-”

“Marcello?” Kaz asked for her, knowing he’d only done such a thing once and still felt weird about it. “She’d refused to answer my questions until her wounds were stitched”.

“What questions?”

“Why you seemed to be becoming more distant. If she’d told you despite swearing not to.”

Y/n nodded slowly as she tried to absorb and analyze the information. He noticed? He was worried about that? So much so he attended to Inej’s cuts in order to get the answers to those questions?

“This is what Inej meant by things needing to become clear, isn’t it?” Kaz asked.

Y/n nodded.

Kaz hummed, “anything else?”

“You keep looking over at her randomly.”

Kaz chuckled dryly. So much for the silent check ins being subtle. “It’s not random”.

“Right.. no, I know.. that’s-”.

“I…. I can handle most things on my own, but making conversation, being… friendly.., isn’t my forte.” He sighed. “Inej was also tasked with correcting me if I said or did something that… well.. might have upset you or be taken wrong”.

Y/n blinked slowly at Kaz in surprise. “You-… what?”

“Anything else?” Kaz echoed as he cleared his throat.

“Tonight…”

Kaz groaned. “Ironically, Inej was trying to persuade me into having this exact conversation with you”.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she want you to have this conversation with me?”

Kaz was silent for a moment. “She claimed she was tired of trying to collect signs that this conversation would go well and threatened that if I didn’t have this conversation soon she’d tell you herself.” He bashfully looked away from her again.

“You… you went and did all of this… because you didn’t know how I’d react?”

Kaz nodded stiffly.

“I … I’m still not sure I understand,” y/n confessed. “And I really don’t want to misinterpret this cause I’ll say something I’ll probably die of embarrassment for saying if I do”. “So…,” she shook her head in confusion. “I know feelings are… new… for you Kaz, but… You’ve both stated you hate me and that you were willing to go through all of this because you needed to know how I’d react to you telling me i made you feel things… but that’s… well, confusing!”

“Sometimes I hate you because I don’t hate you. Because I can’t. I hate that I feel… anything. Because it’s pointless. I hate that I can’t do anything about the way I feel. I hate that I feel I have to tell you this. I hate that nothing will come of this. I hate what this means for you”.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wretched, y/n. And so is the Barrel,” Kaz said as he shook his head. “If anyone else knew this.. what I’ve been trying to tell you… you’d be in danger”.

“Are you saying that… no… I need you to say it. What is it you’re saying Kaz?”

“Even though unrequited, my feelings for you could be harmful if word got out. So while you might wish to gossip about managing to make the Bastard of the Barrel feel, I don’t advise doing so outside of the crows, or with Jesper either, he’s rather loose lipped and if it gets out to the wrong people you might be in the line of fire and-,” Kaz rambled nervously.

“Kaz stop… you… you like me?”

“Yes,” he answered gruffly. “How many times do I need to say that?”

“Once Kaz. I needed you to say it once,” she sighed. “You said you hated me.”

“Sometimes”.

“Right, sometimes hate me”.

Kaz echoed her sigh. “I don’t actually hate you. Ever. I can’t. I hate that I can’t, but it’s true.”

“So you just… like me? But.., hate that you do?” Y/n questioned. When he nodded silently, she frowned. “Am I really that bad?”

“What?!” Kaz hissed, his sharp gaze snapping over to her.

“Is liking me so horrible?”

“No,” He answered as he moved closer. “Unfortunately it’s not. That’s the problem.”

“Then why do you hate that you like me?”

“I told myself I wouldn’t feel this way. For anyone. Ever.”

“What’s so bad about feeling this way for someone?”

“I told you y/n,” Kaz complained with a sigh. “Nothing can come of it,” he reminded her.

“So… even though you like me. And I….” She took a deep breath, still in disbelief she was going to admit it to his face. “Like you,” she finished. “And all this miscommunication is cleared up, you’re saying that-,”.

“What?” Kaz croaked, eyes locked on her.

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

“The miscommunication is cleared up,” y/n repeated. That wasn’t what he was referring to.

“Before that y/n,” Kaz amended.

“That I like you. I said I like you Kaz”.

It was silent in the room for a painfully long time before he spoke again. When he did, all Kaz said was, “you do..?”

Y/n laughed. “Yes Kaz, that’s why I was upset over you and Inej being-”

“Nothing, we’re nothing,” Kaz interrupted.

“I know,” she smiled, “now”.

Kaz nodded. “You like me,” he whispered.

“I do,” she acknowledged. “And you like me”.

“I do”. He nodded. “But y/n-”.

“No”.

“No?”

“We didn’t just talk through all of this for you to just go back to pretending that we didn’t,” she declared.

“Y/n, if the Dime Lions, or Pekka, or-”.

“I don’t care”

“I do,” Kaz stated sharply.

“I know,” she replied as she moved closer to him. “And I appreciate that. But you know I can defend myself”.

“Yes, but the risks are too-”

“That’s what we do isn’t it?” She asked. Upon seeing the confusion in his eyes, she explained, “we take risks.”

“Not with your life, y/n”.

“I’ve already tried to ignore the way I feel, and it doesn’t work. That’s not living, Kaz”.

“You’d still be alive,” he argued.

“I would be either way, Kaz. It doesn’t have to be so dramatic and black and white”.

When Kaz merely sighed, she shook her head. “If you don’t want to be with me for any other reason, then-”.

“That’s not it,” he nearly growled.

“Then stop resisting. You’re refusing to let yourself live because of the chance something could go wrong. But, that’s life Kaz,” she spoke softly.

“You want this? Knowing the risks?”

“I do.” She nodded. “We can keep it secret if that would make you feel better. I don’t care.”

“It would, but what if it-”

“If it gets out, we deal with it, then. Together. Deal Brekker?”

The edges of Kaz’s lips uncontrollably curled up. “The deal is the deal,” he conceded, already plotting ways to keep this development on lockdown with top level privacy.

Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee

Kaz Brekker Navigation

Six of Crows Navigation

Grishaverse Navigation

Book Boyfriends Navigation

Freddy Carter Navigation

My Main Masterlist (All My Works) Navigation

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Dementor

Words: 982

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus couldn’t sleep. Something was wrong. He rolled over, taking in the vast empty space on the other side of the bed. He’d known Sirius for ten years. He could be impulsive, arrogant and sometimes even just mean. What he also was, though, was loyal. To a fault, sometimes. Remus just couldn’t recognise the man that he loved in the accusations lodged against him.

Something was very wrong.

He got out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. If Sirius had been working for Voldemort, there must be something in their flat to verify that. He started in the spare room, which had originally been Sirius’ room until they realised that he hadn’t slept in there for three months, at which point it became the spare room. It still had a lot of Sirius’ stuff in there, though. In boxes under the bed and the wardrobe. There was a lot to go through.

He started under the bed. He found twelve photo albums, which he couldn’t face looking through, and a box full of very racy-looking romance novels. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but what was the alternative? Just accept that the man who had kissed him on the forehead and told Remus that he was his whole world two days ago had conspired against them and been responsible for the death of three of their closest friends?

The next box Remus pulled out made him stop. In it was a small black chest with an inscription on the lid.

‘This chest, much like mine, will only open for you, Moons.’

Remus choked back a sob as he lifted the chest onto the bed. He ran his finger across the inscription and heard something click within. He was able to open it. He took a deep breath before looking inside. There were several photos of the two of them that Remus was quite glad that Sirius hadn’t put in a photo album and two envelopes.

He opened the first envelope. It was a contract. A contract that passed the role of secret-keeper from Sirius to Peter, and it was dated four months prior. Remus’ head was spinning. That was Pete’s signature, and he could tell from the paper that it had been magically signed too. He needed to take this to Dumbledore, or the Ministry. Someone who could tell if this was real or not. Then he noted the signature of the witness to the contract. Dumbledore. He knew. This made no sense.

He opened the second envelope, hoping for a miracle.

20th September 1981

Dear Moony,

I assume that if you’re reading this, then it’s likely something has happened to me, or maybe you’re just nosier than I thought you were.

I think Pete is the traitor. He became Prongs and Lily’s secret keeper back in June (see attached contract) because he convinced us all that I would be the obvious choice and Voldemort would never suspect him.

Since then I’ve noticed that anything that Pete knows quickly becomes used against the Order. Pete knew that Marlene and her sister would be with their parents last Friday. Only Pete, Dumbledore and I knew that. I certainly didn’t tell anyone, and it would surprise me if Dumbledore did. So that leaves Peter or a very lucky guess from the Death Eaters.

He’s also been in my ear about you. He’s been saying for months how suspicious it is that we aren’t told about your missions in meetings, and how many meetings you miss. I know you, as I hope you know me, and I know that you would never do this.

I have expressed my worries about this to Dumbledore, who knows that Pete is the secret keeper now. He told me that I was being paranoid and that J, L and H are perfectly safe. I hope that’s still the case when you read this.

If something has happened to me, look into Peter. I don’t think Dumbledore will care, so see if Moody will.

I hope I get to see you again.

I love you.

Padfoot

Remus didn’t hesitate before apparating to the Aurors offices.

Alastor Moody got on well with Remus and when he showed up looking distraught in the middle of his night shift, he leapt into action. He took the information from Remus, verified the magic signatures on the contract as belonging to Sirius, Peter and Dumbledore, and left the room. Remus sat in the offices for what felt like weeks, but the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Kingsley had sat with him for a while, telling him what Moody was working on, but Remus couldn’t take much of it in.

Moody appeared after several more long hours. “Remus. We’ve done magical trace tests on the finger we found at the scene. He did that to himself.”

“What are you saying, Alastor?” Remus asked, not wanting to hope too much.

“I’m saying that your man is being released from Azkaban as we speak. The dementors don’t like it, but it’s not their decision. This never should have happened. Shit. He should have had a trial, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how we missed this.”

Remus shook his head, “Dumbledore knew the whole time.”

Moody nodded, “I know. That’s something I urgently need to look into, but I needed to right the wrong first. He’s only been there for a day and a half, but the dementors…”

“I know. I’ll look after him.” Remus said as the fireplace glowed and two men stepped out. Sirius looked pale and his eyes were unfocused. Remus stumbled to his feet and pulled Sirius to him.

“Moons?” His voice was hoarse.

“I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Remus whispered into his hair. “You’re safe.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“I know, love. I found your letter.” Remus kissed the side of Sirius’ head. “I never believed it was you.”

[echantedtoon]

Still Not Over You

Xmas Gift for @lavenderdropp I know it's really early but I have so many projects planned for the next three months that I have to get these done early.

Kimetsu Gauken Kokushibo x Reader x Sanemi

*You didn't exactly know how or why it happened but somehow you ended up getting divorced within a year and a half of you both getting married.

*You both met in highschool and had hit it off immediately. Dating ever since you both were fourteen and upon graduation got married at eighteen. It seemed perfectly natural to do at the time. You both were madly in love with each other, and you got along with his entire family. So imagine your surprise when he asked you for a divorce almost two years into your marriage.

*It was heartbreaking and came out of no where but no matter how much you cried or how much you asked why, he refused to elaborate on why insisting you both just sign the papers he brought with him and be amicable about this.

*What he hadn't told you was that he was forced to divorce you by nature of the dangers of his job. Working as a spy and secretary for Muzan meant lots of enemies surrounding the corrupt politician trying to take over Japan. I'm order to protect you, he had to divorce you and he it hurt him just as much as you.

*He made sure to leave you everything he could in the divorce. The house, car, and most of his money was handed over as compensation as he moved out to begin his new profession and new life. He later hears that you had sold the house you both used to share and moved away. He's heartbroken but not surprised really. He only hopes that in time you'll forgive him.

*Three years passed. He's now working as Muzan's personal secretary and security. He hasn't seen you in forever. The last he heard, you had graduated from college and was looking for a job. So he really wasn't expecting you to show up at a meeting between Muzan and his cousin Kagaya. Both of them brought their secretaries to take notes during the meeting. 

*He was shocked to see you there and vice versa staring at each other.. before you remained professional and just kept your focus on the meeting. Seeing you there was whiplash enough but seeing you working for Kagaya? A feeling of hurt and betrayal festered in his heart. He makes sure to ask Nakime about you , and she reveals that you're her secretary and was Hired by Kagaya about three years ago now.

*Heart pounding he tries to contact you again. Getting your number from Nakime but finding out he's blocked on there and your other social medias. He understands that you don't want to see him but he can't help himself. He ends up taking a day off and waiting for you to leave. Well he spots you and surprises you by blocking your way and stopping you 

*You immediately get angry. The calm conversation he tries to have devolving into an argument with you yelling at him. The yelling attracts looks and the attention of a white haired man around the corner. "Oi, Y/n! This asshole bothering you?"

*The man who came around the corner was Sanemi, the school's math teacher.. Kokushibo recognized him from the information Nakime gave him. However what he wasn't expecting was for the smaller man to come up to you and wrap an arm around your waist in a protective stance. "Is this guy bothering you, Honey?"

*HONEY?! WHAT?! "What?"  "This is my boyfriend. We've been dating for two years." It turns out once you started working for Kagaya, Sanemi fell for yoh at first sight. You were just so kind, sweet, and treated him with respect. He wasn't used to it 

*You both became quick friends however you weren't ready for another relationship yet which he respected. You hadn't really met a man like Sanemi before. Despite his outward appearance and generally brashness, he was actually a super sweet guy who loved kids and respected women. You saw that in the way he treated the lady staff and how passionate he was about teaching.

*You were slowly getting over your heartbreak of Kokushibo and fell more and more and MORE for Sanemi who didn't look down on you for being a divorced woman. He treated you no differently than everyone else. You finally agreed to go on a lunch date with him and you two have been together ever since 

*SANEMI quickly put two and two together for who Kokushibo was and he was not having it. He's grip tightened up on you, viens popped up along his body, and the urge to just pummel the taller man in front of him was high but he restrained himself. He didn't want to make a scene in front of you and the kids.

*Kokushibo is deadly calm but he's restraining himself as well because his fists are shaking as he stares at Sanemi. Eventually it ends when you grab Sanemi's arm and start pulling him away after sending your ex a glare. "He's not worth it, Nemi. Good bye, Michikatsu. Don't try contacting me again."

*His heart breaks in two seeing you cling on the arm of another man, fists tightening before he leaves. You best bet that this wasn't over because both men aren't willing to give you up so easily.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter five: “Our flaws are who we really are”

Summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have to return to work, and for once, the idea isn't appealing to any of them. There is a new member in the team...  Word count: 6.010 Warnings: Nothing but some Criminal Minds case info and some curses. A/N:  Is it weird to consider a 6K words chapter "short"?

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: September 25th)

(Y/N)’s point of view

Because being a mother, a wife, an FBI S.S.A. and part of the BAU wasn’t stressful enough, I decided to finish my Ph.D. after Raven was born. I still had one more year left, but my husband supported me to fish it.

After getting shot in the neck that year, Spencer took a month off and we returned to the BAU together. I will never forget the first day we left Raven with my mom at our place. Spencer wouldn’t let our baby go that morning. We were standing in the middle of our living room, mom stared at us, nearly chuckling, as my husband kept talking to Raven, explaining what would happen.

- “So, remember what I told you, Raven. You are going to stay here with your Nana until we come back from work. If things go well, we won’t go out of town on a case today.”

- “Things are going to go well.”- Mom pointed out, but I guess neither of us was paying attention to her. I kissed Raven’s forehead one more time and sighed.

- “I love you, birdie. Be good with Nana, ok?”

- “She is three months old. She can’t be naughty.”- Mom added, chortling.

- “She can. Trust me.”- I turned to her and shook my head.

- “Ok kids, you are running late. Give me my granddaughter.”- Mom stood next to us and reached out her arms to grab Raven. But Spencer didn’t move. He held our baby closer to his chest and sighed, staring at her big, brown eyes.

- “I love you so much.”- he whispered against her forehead as he kissed her carefully.- “Dad will be thinking of you all day long.”

It melted my heart to watch him being so loving and sweet with our baby girl. I always knew he was going to be a good dad, but watching him in action was a completely different thing. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. I knew he didn’t want to leave her alone, because of course, neither did I. But we had to.

Mom walked to him and literally took Raven from his hands. Spencer looked at her and frowned, ready to argue. But stopped himself in his tracks. He knew he had to let her go that morning, even when it hurt.

- “We are going to be fine.”- mom assured us with a big smile. - “I’ll call you at noon, and you can text me whenever you want. Now go there and be heroes. Make your baby proud.”

And I guess, that’s something Spencer loves doing, ‘cos after he kissed Raven one last time, he held my hand and headed to the door.

- “Did you realize this is the longest we’ve been alone in over three months?”- I said as I sipped my coffee, and watched Spencer smiling as he drove us to work.

- “I know. It’s weird.”- he replied and chuckled. - “We should get more mommy and daddy alone time.”- I raised an eyebrow as I heard those words and opened my mouth to tease him about his kinks, but the phone interrupted me and made me skip a bit.

- “Is it your mom?”- Spencer asked right away.

- “No, it’s Garcia. Hey Pen, what is it?”

- “Are you guys coming?”- she asked right away.

- “Yeah, we just got late waiting for my mom, ‘cos she is staying with Raven. Why? Do we have a case?”

- “No, I’m just making sure you two are coming today. We miss you.”- I giggled and shook my head, though I knew Penelope couldn’t see me.

- “We’ll be there in ten.”

- “Everything ok?”- my husband asked. - “Do we have to go straight to the jet?”

- “No, she was just anxious to know if we were coming.”

- “I hope she baked us cupcakes.”

- “I’m sure she did.”- I replied and rubbed his leg with my left hand as he drove. We hummed to the song on the radio, the first non-kid song we had heard in weeks, and we drank our mugs of coffee as we got to work.

- “I miss her already.”- I whispered after a few minutes of silence.

- “I didn’t want to tell you, but I miss her too.”- Spencer replied and we both sighed.

- “But she is going to be ok.”- I assured her- “Mom is a pro.”

- “Yeah, I know. I’m glad Sofia can help us, otherwise, I would have lost my mind. I could never leave her at daycare. I would have rather taken her to the BAU with us than leave her with strangers.”

- “You know we will have to send her to school eventually.”- I teased Spencer and tried not to laugh as he parked in our old parking spot at work and neither of us moved for a few seconds.

- “I know she will eventually have to go to school, but I am not ready to think of that today.”- my husband whispered. I looked at him and nodded, holding his hand.

- “One day at a time.”- I replied and cut him a smile.

- “One day at a time.”- he repeated and leaned in to crush his mouth on mine. His kiss was sweet and slow, he took his time, rubbing his lips against mine and tasting me.

- “Come on kid!!”- and of course, Morgan had to ruin it all. - “Let the lady go and get to work!”- he teased as he knocked on our window, nearly killing us with a heart attack.

- “We hadn’t had a minute alone since Raven was born, and you had to interrupt us!”- I argued as soon as I stepped out of the car. Derek chuckled and opened his arms, giving me a triple hug before I could continue talking.

- “I missed you, pretty girl. How is my baby girl?”

- “She is so big! She started grabbing everything and putting it in her mouth. She is so cute!”- I quickly replied and nearly took my phone to show him the million pictures we had. But I stopped on time. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to be that kind of mom, pushing their baby pictures on everybody’s face. I always hated that, and I didn’t want people to hate me as well. At that minute, all I really wanted was to come back to work and find everything just as we had left it.

Of course, it wasn’t. The only constant at the BAU, I guess, was change.

Garcia was, in fact, waiting for us with homemade cupcakes and cookies. That was the sweet part of our morning. Then came the meeting with Hotch, to catch up with everything that had happened when we had been away. He told us about Alex Blake’s departure, how she had quit the FBI and decided to move to Boston, with her husband, and teach full-time. We both knew it, she had called us to deliver the news before leaving, and though we invited her over, I knew it was too much for her to see Spencer again. She had developed a motherly bond with him, and watching him get hurt had pulled a string in her. One she didn’t want to relive. I guess some wounds are not meant to heal. The BAU can cause you that.

- “And are we getting a new teammate?”- I asked Hotch, and he nodded immediately.

- “Yes, but so far I’ve interviewed nine people, and I still haven’t found the right one.”

- “Nine? Have you tried with someone we know? Maybe bringing back Emily.”- Spencer suggested, reading my mind.

- “I already tried, she is not interested at the moment. But if things go well tomorrow, we might get a new member. Despite all that, today you just have to worry about catching up with work. You’ve been out for a long while, and we needed you back.”

- “We are ready.”- I replied and stood up from my chair right away. - “Anything else, sir?”

- “I just wanted to make it clear I can’t keep any of you in Quantico anymore. You’ll have to start traveling to the cases with us. Are you both ready for that?”

I knew neither of us wanted to do it, but we had to. It was our job, and we had to do it. So we agreed, stood up, and walked back to our desks.

- “We missed you here.”- JJ said from her desk and smiled at us. - “It was too quiet without your facts, Spence.”

- “It’s nice coming back.”- my husband replied with a warm smile. I looked at him and sighed at the sight of the pictures on his desk. He had three family pictures framed, one from our wedding, one from our first Comic Con together a million years ago, and one with Raven. Our first picture as a family. My phone hummed and a picture of mom and Raven playing made my day. So I walked to my husband and interrupted whatever he was talking about with JJ to show him the picture. He smiled and chuckled, pleased to see our baby girl was having a good time with her grandma.

Spencer’s point of view

Going back to work after Raven was born was a mistake. Now that I see it in retrospect, that was the moment we should have stopped. I could have started teaching full-time, like (Y/N) wanted me to do. And she would have finished her Ph.D. and might even have taught with me. We could have had a different life. More calm, at home. We wouldn’t have missed all the important moments in Raven’s life like we did. We would have been there when she needed us.

We wouldn't have ended as wounded as we did. With more emotional scars than we could ever deal with. On the bright side, at least we are still together. Despite the hell we went through.

The newest team member was Kate Callahan. We had seen her around in some FBI get-togethers like the time we all did karaoke at Rossi’s favorite bar. (Y/N) remembered that when we bumped into her the following morning, at the elevator.

- “You were singing karaoke at the Benjamin the night it closed.”- (Y/N) pointed out as the three of us shared the elevator on our way to the 6th floor. That’s how I guessed Hotch was about to interview her for the position.

- “I was! Good memory.”- Kate smiled at us and added - “Billy Joel might have died a little that night.”

- “Sadly he was not the only one.”- I replied and chuckled. - “He got the team started, but we went on to do a six-song set.”

- “The 80s took a fatal hit if I remember correctly.”- Kate said, chuckling along with my wife, and somehow I realized Kate would make an amazing match with ma cherie. They shared a very similar sarcastic sense of humor.

- “Have you seen the place that took over?”- she asked us and both of us shook our heads at the same time. Since we had turned into parents, our social life was basically nonexistent. - “It's like techno and twerking.”

- “It's not really my crowd.”- I replied and Kate turned to me immediately, shocked by my answer.

- “What? You don't twerk?”- I frowned and shook my head, somehow embarrassed by my own answer. Meanwhile, my wife had to cover her mouth so as not to laugh in my face.

- “I was... I was kidding.”- Kate explained, surprised I hadn’t got it. - “I don't twerk.”

- “Neither do we, don't worry”- my wife added and chuckled. The three of us walked out of the elevator and I hurried to open the door for Kate and my wife.

- “Ah. A gentleman and a scholar.”- Callahan pointed out and I just smiled.

- “Agent Hotchner's office is the first one at the top of the stairs.”- I said and though she looked at me confused I knew why she was there, she just thanked me and walked away.

- “Good luck!”- (Y/N) said and smiled at her. Kate nodded and disappeared.

- “We have to schedule Raven’s next pediatrician appointment.”- I said, leaving my things on my desk and turning to look at my wife, who just nodded. - “I’ll call the doctor's office at lunchtime, ok?”-I wrote it down though I knew I wasn’t going to forget it. (Y/N) simply stared at me and sighed.

- “Let’s pray we are in town to take Raven to that appointment. I don’t wanna miss it.”- I was about to tell my wife we couldn’t foresee how things would go in the BAU when Rossi, JJ, Penelope, and Derek walked into the bullpen, all of them talking at the same time.

- “Hotch talked to Emily.”- JJ announced and I turned to my wife knowing Em wasn’t planning on returning to the team.

- “And?”- Garcia was clearly excited by what she had just heard.

- “She just doesn't want to come back.”- Rossi killed all her hopes with just one sentence. I took a few steps closer to the team as I heard Pen arguing with David’s words.

- “Why? She loves us!”

- “For what it's worth, Hotch is interviewing someone we've met before.”- I announced and (Y/N) nodded.

- “He is?”- JJ asked right away and everybody turned to Hotch’s office to try to catch a glimpse of the candidate.

- “Yes. And it’s someone we actually like”- (Y/N) added from her desk. I turned to her and she smiled back.

- “How many candidates is that now?”- Derek asked

- “This one makes lucky number 10.”- Rossi announced and my Garcia turned to him shocked.

- “Ten candidates? Are you for real? And no one ever mentioned that? See, this is what happens when I don't sleep. I miss things.”- Pen whispered and I wondered why she wasn't sleeping well. But I didn’t get to ask, she just continued talking. - “Now can someone tell me who this person is? Are they nice? Why is that the first question I always ask?”

Pen started rambling as my wife explained we had bumped into agent Callahan on the way over. All of our friends nodded as she told us what had happened until JJ mentioned the one fact I wished we all could have forgotten.

- “Didn’t she use to work with Seaver? At Andy Swan’s Unit?”

- “What?”- (Y/N) asked as her face fell- “She is Seaver’s friend?”

- “You know, pretty girl, that simple fact doesn’t mean she has to be your enemy.”- Derek explained with a silly grin on his face. (Y/N) just turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

- “Of course, it doesn’t”.- she whispered and made a short pause before she added - “But did you just meet me or what?”- I looked at my wife and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled and shook her head.

- “You already liked her, face it.”- I whispered and (Y/N) sighed.

- “Yeah… but what if Seaver talked shit about me ‘cos I was mean to her when she was part of the team.”

- “Then she wouldn’t be lying.”- JJ replied and my wife glared at her immediately- “What? you know you weren’t nice.”

- “I know that, but you weren’t here to witness the whole deal, so you don’t know the whole story.”- the way (Y/N) nearly spat those words on JJ’s face left me speechless. And JJ didn’t know how to react either. So she just turned around and looked at me, shocked.

- “Come on, don’t argue.”- Pen said and stood between JJ and my wife. - “We have to stay together, we are a team, and we might be getting a new member.”- her cell phone finished her speech and her face went pale in a second.

- “What is it?”- Rossi asked, noticing her change.

- “The Bakersfield’s unsub killed again.”- she mumbled and started walking, she had to tell Hotch.

I looked at (Y/N) and she sighed. She knew she had been rude to JJ, though her comment hadn’t been the best either.

- “I’m sorry I snapped”- (Y/N) said and cut JJ a short smile. She was being honest, and I knew it was hard for her to deal with apologies.

- “I’m sorry too, I know it was a hard moment for you… I shouldn’t have said that.”- JJ rubbed her arms as she stared at my wife, and the two of them nodded.

- “Come on, we have a case.”- Rossi said and started walking to the briefing room, I waited for (Y/N) to grab her things and followed her.

- “Everyone, this is SSA Kate Callahan from Andy Swan's unit. She'll be joining the team.”- Hotch announced as soon as he walked into the room with Callahan, who waved at us with a grin.

- “Congratulations.”- I smiled at her as she sat at the other side of the table.

- “How are Andy and Seaver doing?”- Morgan asked her.

- “Oh, they're great and they say hello. They told me a lot about all of you.”- Kate said with a cheerful voice, and the entire team stared at my wife, who just nodded at Callahan with a warm smile, ignoring them. They weren't being subtle at all, and (Y/N) knew it.

- “We can get started.”- Hotch said and Pen started presenting the case.

(Y/N)’s point of view

It was sad knowing Prentiss didn’t want to come back to the team. I knew she loved her job at Interpol, but I always hoped one day she’d return to us. I was also feeling weird about JJ. I didn’t have any logical reason to snap at her the way I did, but something inside of me felt uneasy about her. However, she was my friend, so I did my best to put that feeling aside and be nicer to her. I know when I’m upset I can be incredibly hurtful, and that’s no way to treat a friend.

I called my mom as we gathered our things to get to the plane and announced to her we were heading to California.

- “We have been consulting on this case, and this guy just dumped the third body, so we are heading over right now.”- I explained as I grabbed my casefile, purse and looked at Spencer.

- “Take care, peanut. I will keep you posted on this beautiful baby girl.”- mom said and I heard her kissing my daughter’s cheeks.

- “Thank you, mom. I love you.”- I sighed after I hung up and shook my head. - “I hate leaving her behind.”

- “I know. Me too.”- Spencer whispered and held my hand- “Let’s hope we catch this guy fast.”

That day, Hotch paired me with Rossi and Kate. And guess what? I enjoyed it more than I imagined I would, considering we were trying to catch a serial killer. But Callahan was a great addition to the team. She was fun witty and incredibly smart. She had amazing comebacks to any random comment I would make. Three hours in the field and we were besties already. That made me feel more confident about anything that Seaver might have said to her about me.

We were back at the police station. Spencer was working on the geographic profile and Garcia was on the phone from Virginia, updating us on the number of websites that she found on the deep web where our suspect got to buy limbs from the victims. He wasn’t the unsub we were looking for, just… a weirdo with a problem. At least we already had a profile, and it felt like we were a little closer to catching our guy.

- “You'd think after 10 years I'd seen it all.”- Garcia sighed through the line. I knew she was definitely shocked by what she had found on those sites. It was sick, to be honest.

- “How many sites are there, mama?”- Derek asked her as I stared at the board my husband was working on. I was sitting at the other side of the table, next to Kate, going through the case file again.

- “Hundreds. And that gem of a fellow you've got in custody has looked at all of them at one time or another.”- Garcia explained.

- “I’m guessing there is no lead to get our unsub, right?”- I asked her and Pen automatically explained there wasn’t.

- “Anonymity is huge for these sites. They use a Tor network, which is an onion router. The point is, you're not gonna be able to find anyone this way. Do you know there are actual variations on a disarticulation fetish?”- my friend sighed at the other side of the line and whispered. - “I need baby kitten pics asap.”

- “Oh! Have you seen the hippo who lives with the family?”- Kate asked out of the blue, and I turned to her confused.

- “What?”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Sleeps with a blanket, gets massages, eats better than I do.”- Kate explained and looked at me nodding.

- “Where is that?”- Pen questioned and I could almost picture her face as she googled it.

- “South Africa. It's amazing.”- Kate explained. Morgan and Spencer turned to us and raised an eyebrow as Garcia got hyperventilated at the other side of the line and continued talking.

- “Trust me, I have an arsenal of cuteness. Have you seen the one with the baby elephant…”

- “Oh, with the baby chicks?”- Kate interrupted her, excited as well

- “Yes, I love that one!”

- “I love the one with the kitten cuddling with a baby, it’s so cute!”- I added and both Kate and Pen agreed with me, very enthusiastically. - "I keep telling Spencer we should get a kitten for Raven to grow up with, but he is..."

- “Uh, hey, you guys?”- Spencer looked at us from the board and I nodded.

- “Sorry. Sorry.”- the three of us said at the same time as my husband took us all back to work.

- “The most recent victim was taken from Riverside.”- he pointed out. - “That's more than 2 1/2 hours away from here.”

- “So his comfort zone isn't limited to here.”- Morgan added.

- “That's not good. He's got a lot more confidence than we thought.”- Kate said as I nodded.

- “Yeah, but this area has to mean something to him.”- I pointed out and Morgan supported my words.

- “Yes, he's leaving vics here, so he must have some connection to Bakersfield.”

- “The M.E. says he's gotten better at ligating each victim, which means he may have had practice.”- Spencer pointed out as he walked closer to the table and stood next to me.

- “On what?”- Morgan asked

- “We didn't originally profile him as an acrotomophile, but that sort of attraction typically has deep roots in childhood.”- my husband added.

- “That makes sense, maybe growing up he was constantly around dead bodies. Maybe his family had a funeral home.”- I said and my husband nodded at my words.

- “Exactly, it wasn't that big of a leap for him.”- Kate added, supporting my thoughts.

- “It could be. We know he wasn't social enough to continue the family tradition, so maybe he found work in a morgue or a hospital.”- Morgan pointed out.

- “When you say work…”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Security guard, janitor, anything entry level.”- I explained to her and heard her typing as I spoke.

- “Uh, the UC system has a medical facility in Bakersfield.”- she announced in a few seconds.

- “Anyone fired recently?”- Spencer asked him.

- “No, but there's an anatomy Professor on sabbatical.”

- “What's his name?” I asked and grabbed a pen right away.

- “Dylan Myers.”

The team went to the suspect’s house and left me and Spencer at the police station. I wasn’t complaining that time, I didn’t want to go. A part of my brain was relieved neither of us was in danger during that case. I wanted to go back home and hold my baby, hopefully, that very same night.

That last part was probably not going to happen when we got a call from Hotch, telling us the unsub wasn’t there. So the search for a secondary location started. However, Garcia had nothing on the guy, and the search was turning incredibly frustrating.

I was at the kitchenette in the police station, pouring a fresh cup of coffee for Spencer. He was a few feet away from me, reading the M.E. reports one more time. That was when I saw him reach the bullet scar on his neck and rub it. He would do it from time to time, I was sure it hurt, though he always denied it. Surely, he didn’t want to worry me. But nevertheless, I was worried. The fear of getting hurt or even worse had always been at the back of my brain, since I joined the BAU. But now that I was a mother, facing my own mortality was harder than ever.

- “Kid? Are you ok?”- I heard Morgan ask my husband as he walked into the room. I grabbed the cup I had poured for Spencer and headed in their direction.

- “Yeah. You?”- he replied, pretending nothing was bothering him. And Derek acted like he didn’t notice. A dangerous game to play at the BAU, if you ask me.

- “Just tired.”

- “Here hon.”- I gave my husband his cup of coffee and he sat straight on his chair right away, acting as if he wasn’t in pain at all. That was still upsetting to me, knowing Spencer wouldn’t be honest about those tiny things because he still wanted to protect me.

- “Dr. Lee sent this over. The most recent victim had more than just leather particulates in her stomach.”- Spencer explained to Morgan as I sat next to him and went through the file again. - “She chewed through it, leaving entire chunks behind. She also found traces of horse hair. He's using a bridle.”

- “This guy could have used anything. Why that?”- Morgan questioned and Spencer tried to get an answer.

- “It's either specific to his fantasy or something he had easy access to.”

- “How many horse ranches are around here?”- Derek asked my husband, but before he could reply, I said:

- “One hundred and thirty-four.”- Morgan frowned and turned to me as Spencer smiled and looked at the M.E report in his hands.

- “You are spending too much time with your husband, I’m gonna ask Hotch to pair us together instead.”- the phone interrupted our conversation, and speak of the devil, it was Hotch, with shocking news. Our suspect David Myers wasn’t actually the unsub, but his first victim and the killer had framed him.

- “That’s what I call a plot twist”- I whispered as I heard Hotch’s explanation.

- “He took out a lot of rage on this man for a reason.”- our Unit Chief added.

- “Maybe this Dylan Myers stood in the way of the unsub's true object of affection.”- Spencer suggested.

- “Well, it makes sense since we thought the first and second victims were connected.”- I added, but Spencer quickly shook his head.

- “Only Dylan Myers was single.”

- “Garcia, was Dylan Myers dating anyone?”- Hotch asked at the other side of the line.

- “He was a bit of a hermit, and like I said, zero social media skills. Did go old school with a landline. Tracking his frequently called numbers. He called a young woman named Christine Locke several times. She's a former student, lives in Bakersfield.”- Garcia made a pause and somehow, we all knew exactly what she was going to say next. - “And she's missing. Sending you her picture now.”

We stared at our cell phone’s screen and watched the image of a young blond girl appear in front of us.

- “She looks like the second victim.”- I whispered and looked at my husband for a moment, he was frowning, trying to connect the dots in this crime. If you ask me, he was desperate to crack it and go back home.

- “Did she have a restraining order out on anyone?”- Hotch asked.

- “Checking now.”- Garcia replied and typed as fast as she could. - “Uh, yes. She filed for and was granted a restraining order on August 6 from Steven Parkett.”

- “And where is he?”- I asked quickly, and Pen answered in a second.

- “Probably on his way to hell in a handbasket, munchkin. He was raised and lives at a cattle ranch and slaughterhouse in Bishopville just outside of Bakersfield. Sending you the coordinates now.”

The team got the killer, and before we knew it, we were on the plane, on our way back home. JJ and Morgan welcomed Kate with a long speech about their battle scars, that made me chuckle from the other side of the plane, at least the few minutes it lasted, ‘cos soon everybody around me was snoring. Everyone but me. Somehow I couldn’t close my eyes. I was too excited about going back home and holding my daughter in my arms. So I stood up carefully, trying not to wake Spencer, who was softly snoring next to me, and walked to the kitchenette to make myself a cup of tea.

The water hadn’t boiled yet when Kate appeared next to me, and cut me a short smile, clearly still half asleep.

- “Is there enough water in that pot for another tea?”- she whispered and I chuckled.

- “The correct question would be: is there enough tea in this plane to keep you awake?”- I answered and Kate Callahan laughed under her breath, trying not to wake any of our teammates.

- “Pick your favorite.”- I whispered and handed her a box with different kinds of teas- “If you need help, I can tell you my favorite pick to keep me awake during trips is Earl Gray.”

- “Earl Gray it is.”- she grabbed one bag and put it in an empty mug. We both stayed quiet for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little weird. We hadn’t actually been alone since we met, technically 48 hours earlier.

- “So why don’t you wanna sleep?”- I finally asked her, pouring the hot boiling water in her cup.

- “I can’t stop thinking about the case.”- she simply replied and smiled at me.- “How do you deal with catching a different serial killer every week and not… taking it with you?”

- “That’s a good question. I don’t know how we do it, actually.”- I answered and grabbed my cup with both hands, feeling the warmth against my cold skin right away.

- “Seaver told me a lot about the team when she transferred.”

And there it was, the pink elephant in the room. I bit my lips and looked at Kate, waiting for a snarky comment, a complaint, maybe a threat not to be mean to her. But no. That’s not what happened. Instead, Kate smiled at me and whispered.

- “She said everybody on the team taught her a lot and made her a better agent. Especially you and Prentiss.”

- “Me?”- I didn’t even try to mask how shocked I was by that confession. It made no sense. Yes, at the end Seaver and I were on better terms, but she wasn’t my friend. She wasn’t even invited to our wedding. And, like JJ had pointed out a few days earlier in the worst way possible, I hadn’t been nice at Seaver.

- “Yeah, she said you two had a rocky start, but that you were an incredible agent, and that she put to use everything you taught her.”- I raised an eyebrow and waited for the “but” to come any second.

But it never came.

- “I don’t know if Ashley actually meant it.”- I finally confessed and sipped my tea - “I was very mean to her when she joined the team. We had… considerable issues.”

- “Whatever it was, you two managed to work together no matter what, and you really taught her a lot. She was very proud to have worked alongside you and agent Prentiss.”- I tried to read Kate, try to find any trace of deceit, irony, or any lead that showed me she was lying. But there was nothing. Was I losing my profiler’s touch? Or was she actually being honest?

- “Wow.”- that was all I managed to say. - “I’m glad we were a good school for her.”

- “You definitely were. She said it was the first time she actually managed to skip her father’s stigma and be herself.”- I sipped my cup and nodded. On that very same plane, I had yelled at Ashley about how her father had killed my aunt. It felt like ages ago. In another life.

- “So, how long have you and Spencer been together?”- Kate asked after a few seconds. I smiled and whispered.

- “It’s gonna be three years already since we got married, and four since we started dating.”

- “You didn’t wait long to tie the knot!”- she replied, shocked, and raised an eyebrow.

- “It might sound weird, but most people thought it took us too long.”- it was funny looking back now, but god! It had been a long journey.

- “Really? Why?”

- “‘Cos we were in love for four years and a half and none of us said a word about our feelings.”- I confessed and giggled. Kate wide opened her eyes, shocked.

- “You what?!”

- “Yeah! We wasted four years in love with each other ‘cos we were both terrified to deal with our feelings.”

- “Oh my god! That’s… like a rom-com!”- Callahan chuckled and I smiled, thinking it was funny now, but back when Ashley was in the team, it was the closest I had ever been to hell on earth.

- “Yeah, that’s why after we started dating, we decided to get married very soon, and no one was actually shocked by that.”

- “And do you have kids?”- Kate asked, and I had to do my best effort not to jump with excitement when I started talking about our daughter.

- “One daughter, Raven Marie. She is three months and a half.”- I made my best effort not to be the kind of mom I always made fun of, showing pictures of their babies to anyone they could. Until I heard Kate ask the questions:

- “Do you have pictures?”- and I know I grinned like a maniac, grabbing my phone.

- “I have so many!”

For the rest of the trip, Callahan and I stayed in the kitchenette of the plane, drinking tea and chatting. She told me she didn’t have kids of her own yet, but that she and her husband were guardians of her little niece “Meg” after her sister died. I didn’t ask much about it 'cause it was clearly a sensitive subject, but she did tell me a lot about Meg. She was thirteen already, which gave me a glimpse of what raising a teenager meant. And it sounded creepy.

That morning we reached home and found my mom walking in the living room with baby Raven. I nearly ran to her and held her in my arms. Me and Spencer kissed her chubby cheeks and somehow, I felt at peace. That’s a feeling I only get when we are all together, at home. A feeling that’s very elusive when you are an SSA. 

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: September 25th)

[sreidlvewrites]

💌Close to you🗝️

This was inspired by Two songs .

🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️

🖇️There’s To much Smoke🗝️

A/N 🖇️This is going to be , my favorite yet I’m enjoying writing this 🗝️ See I have a few ideas , but this one came first 🖇️ it came to me at work- an had to start my outline right away , 🗝️ I hope you enjoy this , I never know what to put here but thank you for taking the time to read my writing I have fun with it , isn’t that what it’s about having fun with your writing, your style of writing is always gonna be different from someone else writing that what’s makes us unique, 🗝️. 💌 : I adore all my angel writers all my favorite Spence writer’s , chef’s kiss .

Thank you for being here . I see you .

I wanted to write more for this cause this such a beautiful piece I think .

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

🖇️There’s to much smoke💌

Paring: Soft Side of Spencer Reid x FemBAUx!Reader

Warning: hurt comfort fluff , blurb

Word count : 1.8k

Summary: Spencer gets caught in an awkward situation with his Stalker.

💌There’s to much smoke💌

🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️

Spencer hasn’t seen you in your FBI Jacket for little over two weeks, today you show up in your FBI Jacket, he can’t keep his eyes off you , See Spencer always thought you looked nice with whatever you wear but your fbi jacket in vest was his favorite Hotch in JJ reached out to you about Spencer’s Crazy Stalker,,

💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🖇️🗝️💌🖇️💌🗝️🖇️

You come in ready to bring her back in to the precinct

.. she’s is the— “unsub”

Good Morning Spencer says Not now , —Spence you say , He’s confused about your reaction to his Good Morning to you ,

You've been up reading Kats file all night , — So you know what you are prepared for , this is what you were made for you say to be ready in any situation that comes to you right now— it seems to be Spencer’s crazy stalker trying to invade — The team hasn’t really informed Spencer yet , that she escaped —The “precinct” , She requested to see Spencer an you weren’t about to let that happen, not after last time , No you in him were not dating not yet any ways , but you cared for him in the kiss he gave you on your sixth month anniversary fbi surprise party , has to mean something you thought to yourself so No she can not Request him , “Reid can you come in here Hotch says , the rest of the team follows behind , —

So here's the thing you say , JJ holds your shoulder while you tell Spencer his Crazy Stalker has escape the precinct ,

We’re not sure how it happened Derek applied , — You can see Spence getting all tensed up ,— Am I the only one who didn’t know about this he asks , looking at you for an Answer ,

JJ it’s not her fault , then why does it feel like she is the one who found out first, She was but it’s because Spencer walks out the room , As Hotch in JJ follows him it’s cause I told y/n her I called her last night to inform y/n what was going on in , You couldn’t tell me JJ ???.. Spence no , don’t JJ let him go, Hotch says .

Derek what do we know about Kat? Well, we know She’s got this crazy obsession with Spence. You say , Ya an what else , Spencer comes back in she won’t stop till she gets what she wants , she wants to make my life miserable, You look over at Spencer by now he’s really close to you , you can tell he’s nervous not cause he’s standing by you but because of Kat , I don’t want you near her , he whispers , Spence this is my Job , no not this you can’t ,

You look at him, you grab his hand while Hotch is talking , Spencer doesn’t pull away , — Derek calls Garica hey baby girl, what you need love , — can you try find the latest location of Kat , Spencer’s Stalker, She’s back her voice starts to shack little , ya I’ll see what I can find , — I’ll get back to you shortly , Derek hangs up .

Phone rings , Hotch get Garica back on the phone now ,

Y/n answers the Phone Hi this is agent, y/n I know who you are Kat says Sweetheart , I keep track of who comes in goes in spencys life you look back at him , Put him on the phone, Beautiful she says , No you say come on Now Play Nice Kat says , you roll your eyes

Spencer is by you , Hey he says it’s me Dr Reid , Hey Spency long time right , look you need to meet me Alone tonight ,

Or your little beautiful Angel you got next to you gets hurt ,

Hell No , Now Now Spency that ant the way we talk to each other, — You know where to meet me , 8:30pm no sooner no later , She hangs up - S-O-N of a bitch , Reid says throwing books across the room everyone is so Quiet in nervous,

How she know y/n was standing by me Spencer says , you get the location Garica, ya it Came inside the building you look around How Derek says ,

Y/s “You’re Not going anywhere Spencer

We’re bringing her in tonight, — look Spencer says I’m going end of story , you don’t know how she made my life a living hell before you got here ,

Spence you put your hand on his shoulder I read the file Mave ,

He pulls away , walks away — He’ll come around kido Em says

I doubt that , not till we fully put here away you say , in I’m not sure how long that’s gonna take , I—I really don’t want to lose him you say , are we dating together, No but that’s what Kat thinks you to are together Em Says ,

I’m sorry JJ says it’s ok , JJ you say , with a worried sad look on your face , they walk out you grab your bag , Hotch pulls you aside , — Hey none of this is your fault ok he says none of it , then who else is the blame let me be the blame Hotch ,

She’s a psychotic person who needs to be put away as tears roll down your face and she wants Spence where do you see this going you ask , Hotch — Hotch hugs you , I’m sorry he says in at 8:30 she will have him , cause I know him , — I don’t know what to do , this my job I’m supposed to protect the people I love an care about , I can’t let him go alone , an we won’t Hotch says ,

We gotta plan ok , You look up at Hotch ok .

💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️🖇️💌🗝️

You can’t find Spencer anywhere,

Derek, have you seen Spence you ask , No not lately . Maybe he went to get some fresh air, Garica said .

Hmm ok you say looking at your watch it’s only 6:45pm .

6:45pm

💭💌 From: Beautiful angel

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

Hey Spence , You Okay?

Where are you ?

💌🗝️💌🖇️💌🗝️💌🖇️🗝️💌🖇️🗝️💌

Delivered not read ..

🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️🖇️🗝️

Did you hear anything back JJ asks ,

You look at your phone , Not yet , how did you know I texted him his phone was laying on his Desk,

——(“ HOTCH YOU YELL ) .

It’s only 6:50pm what is he doing , Derek —- he might not be doing Anything , oh come one Derek you know Damn well he went on his own you say , did anyone check the lobby Hotch asked Or breakroom,

Or the Gun range Spencer says coming in , Spence you scared me you say — Sorry everyone, next time let us know your leaving Hotch says ok Spencer says , Can we Talk you ask Spencer, sure he puts his bag down , walks with you to a room that’s empty , he shuts the door behind ,—— Spence you say softly I-i can’t lose you tonight , lose me ? I’m not yours to lose am I he ask softly , I-i know you say with your head down in you feel hugh lump In your chest, I care about you a lot Spencer he pulls you up on the counter I know he whispers, I wanna be yours Spence , you say softly , but I know nothing can happen right now, I just needed to be close to you I needed to feel, This he pulls you in and wraps his arms around you , as you start to cry on his shoulders, I know he says , —- I care about you to he says I’m sorry I got upset earlier I just can’t lose you neither we haven’t had much time for us to be an us yet , he says ..

what time is it you ask Spence — 7:45pm … Do you know the spot she wants you to meet her at ? Ya I think so , I’m not ready to go back there he says , is it where mave was —— you ask ,

Ya he says with his voice a little shaky sorry Spence I didn’t it’s ok he says … please one thing , ya he says , softly promise me this when we catch her , — you take me on a date you say ?

Really Spence says —- Yes you say , Ok you got it he says it’s a date . I needed to be close to you Spence ,I know your little skeptic about touchy feely, and you don’t normally give hugs but I needed this I felt safe , —- Me too he says me too .. — I couldn’t get our first kiss outta my head Spencer says , the way your lips were on mine , you bit your lower lip you know that gets to Spencer , he pulls you in,— is this ok if I kiss you , he asks politely, yes you say —-Spence …. You biting your lip gets to me he says to you . — A Knock at the Door—It’s Derek , come on lovebirds, we got a crazy stalker to catch , you both giggle, Spence you say please be safe I will he says , as JJ in Morgan help Spence get suited up , You Hotch in Em head to the cars , You ok they ask politely, ya I’m ok you answer back , but your feeling little anxious,

It’s now 8:20pm — Ok so listen up Reid is on the other end , Hotch says , she doesn’t know we’re close by , let’s hope not you say , you guys are at the place we’re Kat wants Reid to meet her

JJ in Derek are waiting for Spencer’s cue , in that’s when we will bring her in , Derek guys I think she’s here , you guys get out of the car ,

It’s now 8:28pm —- , She’s walking ,she’s tall beautiful your thinking to yourself , your short in mid average , your thoughts are all over the place , 8:30pm Spence is waiting for her , Hey Spency she says , —- She goes up to rub her hand across his chest how are you , Love — I’m not your love oh I know Spency just humor me for minute . So where’s your little angel? She asks you ,stop , — she’s not here you wanted me to come alone, oh Spency I know you didn’t listen to me , Where is she , it’s just the two of us , liked you ask , poor Spency always alone , you are now behind her , Spence stays Quiet, Remember the last time Spence she says , — You grab her in pin her down remember this bitch you say , — you're under arrest anything you say can and will be held against you a court of law , you may have a lawyer present if you do not have a lawyer one will be provided for you do you understand stand , oh yes Angel I understand I’ve done this before… you Hand her over to Derek you run to Spencer he holds his arms out for you … I-I love you , it’s ok you don’t need to say it back Spence ..