lynkennedy

[lynkennedy]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[lynkennedy]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[lynkennedy]

[lynkennedy]

"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;) 

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you. 

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed. 

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy. 

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails. 

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting. 

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes. 

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve. 

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat. 

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers. 

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form. 

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you. 

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice. 

“Whatever you want, doll.” 

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin. 

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body. 

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch.  He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this. 

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock. 

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you. 

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away. 

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb. 

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest.  With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

[lynkennedy]

Slow Down, Cowboy (Part 1)

Pairing: Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. This will probably be the first part of a three or four part series. Establishing the pairing. More fluff to come!

Synopsis: Reader is a server/bar keeper at the local saloon. Billy and the guys come for a drink after a long day of horse stealing and cattle rustling. It doesn’t take much for Billy and reader to take an interest in each other.

A/N: So, no surprise I’m on the Tom Blyth train after watching TBOSAS. I needed more so naturally I watched Season 1 of Billy the Kid and let me tell you, I was not disappointed. He is SO FINE in this series!! Kicking my feet and twirling my hair fr. Also a very good series!! Please watch if you love Tom and love a good story. This was born out of disappointment from the lack of writing on Tom’s Billy on this app as well as a craving for more Tom 😅 Enjoy!!

Part 1: A Sight for Sore Eyes

The saloon was already hustlin’ and bustlin’ on a Friday evening. The cacophony of chatter, laughter, and glasses clinking, only to be amplified by the 5 or so pairs of cowboy boots you heard stomping into the saloon, accompanied by the incessant ringing of the bell above the entryway door. The scuffed boots belonged to a group of rowdy cowboys coming in for a drink, or three, after a long day of horse thievin’ and cattle rustlin’, no doubt. You eyed up each one of them, noting their greasy hair underneath tattered hats, dirt caked around and under their fingernails, and revolvers strapped to their hips for easy access. You had been around town long enough to know that these guys were up to no good during the day, but that was none of your business. A paying customer was a paying customer, no matter how they got their money.

You carried on serving customers who were already at the bar until you heard the bell above the door ring again, signaling the entrance of another patron. Normally you wouldn’t give that sound a second thought, but something compelled you to glance up in the direction of the noise.

The saloon was small, so there wasn’t much distance between you, working behind the counter, and the door. You were surprised to be met with striking blue eyes underneath curly brown hair and a dark brown top hat. He was tall. Lean. Young. Very handsome. You had not seen him before… at least not in person. Wanted posters with his face and a handsome reward for his capture were plastered all over every county east and west of Lincoln. None other than the infamous Billy the Kid had just stepped through your saloon doors, reputation preceding miles before him.

Despite what you had heard about him, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you memorized his appearance. You noticed his eyes sparkle as they met yours. Perhaps it was from the lights hanging overhead, you thought. He stopped as the door slammed to a close behind him. Without breaking eye contact, he removed his hat and held it to his chest, giving you a polite nod and a slight smile, acknowledging your innocent exchange. He then wandered off to find the loud group of men that had entered the saloon moments before him.

So, Billy the Kid was riding around town with these guys. You knew to keep your distance from guys like that in your personal life, but at work, money was money. The group of guys came up to the bar, eyeing you up and down before placing their drink orders. They weren’t original; Whistles and cat calls accompanied by orders for straight vodka or whiskey for the lot. You handed out drinks with a smile, graciously accepting their tips. Then, they were on their way, hootin’ and hollerin’ over to a table in the corner to drink until they got dizzy, celebrating their accomplishments of the day. All that was left behind was Billy.

“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him, quickly realizing he was a man of few words. He had not made a single comment like his buddies had when they approached the counter.

Billy had put his hat back on shortly after entering the saloon, but he took it off again as soon as you addressed him, making eye contact. A sign of respect.

“Hi there. Whiskey, please.” His slight southern drawl was charming, you had to admit. But it seemed newly acquired. He wasn’t from here originally. You didn’t know much about him aside from the daily town gossip, but something told you he was different. Misunderstood, maybe.

You nodded your head and smiled. “One whiskey, comin’ right up.” You set a glass down in front of him and poured the amber liquid into it. He picked the glass up and drank it down in one gulp. Must have been a hard day, you thought to yourself.

He tapped the rim of the glass with his index finger a couple of times before meeting your gaze again. “Another, please, ma’am,” he asked softly. You obliged and poured him another. This time he decided to sip instead of down it in under three seconds.

“You got it. Holler if you need anythin’ else. Okay, darlin’?” He nodded and dropped his gaze down to the glass in front of him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the alcohol, but you could have sworn you saw a blush creep up on his cheeks. You smiled to yourself once your back was turned.

The night went on as you carried on taking care of the patrons at your bar, drinking themselves to sleep or until their buddies helped them stumble home. You and Billy stole glances and sweet smiles throughout the whole night. Eventually, the saloon cleared out leaving only you and Billy, who had joined his friends at their table shortly after getting his third whiskey from you. As you were wiping down the bar counter and cleaning glasses to start closing up, you watched Billy talk to his group of cowboys. They seemed to be egging him on to do something, but he kept shaking his head and laughing, declining politely. Eventually they got the message, clapping him on the shoulder and exiting the saloon, claiming they would see him back at camp.

You kept your head down as you continued to polish glasses and silverware, ears perking up at the sound of his boots scraping the hardwood floor in your direction. Billy gently set the glass on the counter in front of you with a thud before resting his elbows on it, leaning in your direction. You looked up at him through your lashes. “Not headin’ out with your buddies?”

Billy shook his head, noticing your clean nails and the absence of a wedding ring. “No, ma’am. I don’t partake in their late night activities,” Billy told you in a soft voice. You wondered what activity he was referring to. It could be one of two things: drinking, or women. Since they already had the drinking part taken care of, there was only one other thing it could be. You weren’t sure why, but learning this about him made you feel happy. Relieved, almost.

You placed the glass you were cleaning back on the shelf underneath the bar and threw the rag you were using over your shoulder. With a hand on your hip, you asked, “well, in that case, is there anything else I can get you this evening, cowboy? We are closing right about now.” You waited for him to answer, taking the opportunity to appreciate how well his plaid dress shirt fit him, the top two buttons now open to reveal a new patch of skin you had not seen upon his arrival. You pulled your eyes away when you realized you had been staring a second too long.

“No more drinks for me, ma’am. Thank you, though. There was one other thing I was hoping to get from you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You leaned forward yourself, really meeting his eyes this time. With him leaning across the bar like that, he was the closest he had been all night. The bright blue of his eyes couldn’t even get lost in the dim light of the saloon. You hated how your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you two actually were.

You cleared your throat and took a second to steady yourself before asking with a playful smile on your lips, “and what might that be?” Billy smiled in return, dropping his eyes to his hands before returning them to you again. “I was hoping I might learn the name of the beautiful woman serving me drinks tonight. So I know who to ask for when I come back tomorrow.” There it was, that smile again, that threatened to leave you speechless. Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised by his manners, especially for a man so young and to be riding around with gunslingers all day. You had heard he was dangerous, but you seemed to have forgotten that. Although you were nervous to be alone with him, you also felt safe. Safe enough to share your name with him.

“Y/N,” you told him with a smile and a nod. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, miss Y/N. My name is William but folks call me Billy. I sure do hope I’ll be seein’ you again real soon.” His voice was smooth, like it was dripping in honey. His charm was effortless and completely disarmed you. Those goddamn cowboys.

“Well, I’m here pretty much 24/7 so, drop in whenever you like. Now I know who to look out for.” You smiled at him again, holding his gaze for a second. He nodded and made his way to the door, stopping to turn around and look at you one last time before exiting the saloon. He tipped his hat to you as he said, “you sure are a sight for sore eyes. You have a good night now,” and was whisked away by the evening breeze.

You stared at the door where he stood just moments before, simultaneously smiling to yourself like an idiot and cursing yourself for being so smitten by a cowboy upon the first interaction. He left you breathless and with only one thought:

In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.

[lynkennedy]

[lynkennedy]

sunshine

regulus black x gn!reader

411 words

description: you and regulus are complete opposites, yet you couldn’t be happier together.

(sorry i died for a month. i don’t really like this but i wanted to post something again)

Regulus Black is, by all means, a quiet person. He keeps to himself and his select group of friends and to all else he is a dark and intimidating person.

You are a social butterfly, bouncing around various groups of friends from every house, smiling everywhere you go. All in all, you’re the opposite of Regulus Black.

Which is why it came as a shock to everyone the day he bid a goodbye to you, when you went to sit with your separate friends, by pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.

Though over time everyone around you both became accustomed to small occasional gestures of affection between the two of you, that is everyone except for Regulus.

He still finds it completely inconceivable that you, basically the sun to him, want to be with him.

So he still jumps a little when you suddenly appear behind him in the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist whilst he is in the middle of a idiotic conversation with Barty.

The second he hears your voice, all bubbly and excited, all thoughts of that previous conversation were out the window.

“Regulus!” You gasp excitedly as you squeeze around his waist gently.

“Hello, love.” He responds while quickly turning himself around in your arms to face you.

“You won’t believe what happened in transfiguration today!” You say while bouncing up and down on your toes.

Regulus quirks an eyebrow as a silent gesture of telling you to continue.

“Okay, okay, so..” You begin to ramble excitedly about some silly thing James had done to impress Lily, but Regulus wasn’t exactly listening.

Well of course he was listening, he listens to everything you’ve ever said, but at this very moment he was enraptured by just watching you.

The way your eyes sparkle in the light beaming in from the windows, how your hair is slightly messed up from the school day, but especially the glowing smile on your face as you talk a mile a minute.

Eventually Regulus snaps out of his little trance, glancing behind your head seeing Barty and Evan laughing and mocking Regulus, who's always been stone cold, melting before their eyes.

But what snaps them all out of their silent mocking, is when you finish your story.

“I mean I just can’t believe Lily finally agreed to a date with him.”

All three boys snap to your face when you say that and at once they speak.

“She said yes??”

-

[lynkennedy]

Crying, so sweet 🤍

FADE INTO YOU

pairings. regulus black x reader

synopsis. sirius just left home— regulus was still trapped. he felt so alone, until he ended up outside your window.

it was a normal night in the black house hold, regulus sitting against his door as he heard his brother yelling in pain or screaming for his parents not to grab his little brother making regulus cry harder.

it had lasted longer tonight since sirius brought up james potter, the boy who had become his new brother. someone who took care of him and made him laugh, made him forget what happened at home on breaks.

regulus held his head in his hand grabbing his curly locks hard, he hated this. he wished that he could do something to stop them from hurting his big brother. sirius who stopped his mother from throwing a crucio curse at him when he was younger, sirius who came to his room after nights like this and stopped him from yanking too hard on his hair and helped him fall asleep. but no he was coward who locked his door and listened to his brothers screams of pain.

finally after what seemed hours the screaming stopped but the yelling didn’t, there was loud footsteps running up the stairs. regulus froze thinking his parents were coming for him but the door handle didn’t rattle, the footsteps passed and soon passed again.

his sobbing stopped as his heart started to beat faster and faster wondering what was happening, why wasn’t sirius coming back and why was there arguing. usually they did whatever they wanted and then left him. what was happening?

until he heard his mothers yelling loud and clear, “if you leave, you will never be welcome here again, sirius black!” regulus black froze completely. what? he heard the door slam.

leave. leave. leave. not welcome. not welcome.

sirius left? what? no, no way. his thoughts were everywhere, too much at once. his heart started racing once his parents door was shut. sirius left, he’s all alone in this house with them.

regulus brought his hands back to his hair and started pulling at it, he couldn’t control his own breathing. he felt like he was trapped in some kind of bubble that wouldn’t let him breath. he stood up pulling at his shirt that was buttoned up all the way, he started to tug at the top of the shirt aggressively feeling like it was suffocating— in reality he was suffocating himself.

he tugged and tugged until the buttons snapped off and fell all on his floor. he pressed against his chest trying to gain back his access of breathing on his own.

it took minutes for him to, but he did somehow. he doesn’t remember how but he did. regulus paced his room wondering what to do, sirius was gone. he couldn’t sleep without him helping him.

until his mind went to you. you could help him, you always did. when he went back to hogwarts you didn’t ask until he was ready to say, you just hugged him tightly. on the train you held his hand and did everything you knew what to do.

so he went to you, he had been to your home before. as much as he could go. so he found himself outside your house, he knows he could knock but if your parents saw him in his state they would freak— not in a bad way. they loved him, treated him wonderfully every time he came by no matter his surname or what house he was in.

so he came walked around your house to the window, he forgot that it was on the second floor so he grabbed a handful of pebble’s and started throwing them one by one.

you had been awake so it didn’t take many, you closed the book you were reading and paused your record player wondering what it was after the first couple ones. opening your curtains looking down at the bottom to see him mid throw, but when he saw your silhouette he stopped. your eyebrows furrowed why he would be throwing stuff at your window when he could knock.

opening your window so you could talk to him, “reggie?” he flinched at the nickname that came from his older brother but you couldn’t notice. “is everything alright?” you tried not to yell to wake your parents but it was hard not too.

“ye-yeah, can i come up?” he asked you as he put his hands in his pockets, you let out a confused laugh at his question.

“how? i’m coming down, okay?” before he could say something you were walking away from the window. he let out a sigh as he waited for you to come out the back door. once he saw you opening the door, he started to walk towards you. though, when he got close you noticed his bloodshot eyes and him messing with his hands through his jacket.

“love..” he threw his arms around your waist, you froze for a second before you heard his sniffles and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. feeling the contact regulus started to cry harder. you didn’t know what to do, of course he had cried in front of you— not like this. he was gripping onto the back of your shirt like you were gonna leave.

“reg? baby.. what’s going on?” you brought one of your hands to his neck, rubbing it softly with your fingers. he tried to control his sobbing but he couldn’t and it worried you so much.

“hey, regulus. you have to breath.” you pulled yourself away to grab his face gently, “love, breath. i’m right here. feel me, i’m right you. you’re okay.” you tried to get him to focus on you so he could breath, you hated this. why was he crying so hard, your mind went to the worst. what if his parents got him?

he reached out to you, you brought one of your hands from his face to one of his own hands. bringing it to your own face as he you still held on, he started to calm down. you felt a breeze past making you realize you were halfway out the door.

“come inside, let’s go to my room.” he nodded following you up the stairs as he held onto your hand.

as he stepped into your room he took it in like he hadn’t been into it before, it was so comforting just like you.

you let go of his hand quickly to shut the window that made your room colder than it was since your parents loved having the house cold. turning around to see regulus sitting at your bed staring down at the floor, you frowned seeing him slouched over picking at his nails.

“love, can you tell me what happened?” sitting down beside him, he doesn’t move. he’s so zoned out, he’s overthinking. so you gently grab his hand to stop him from picking at the nails that are already so picked. he flinches a little causing you to pull your hand away but he grabbed it back and intertwined your fingers.

he mumbled something you couldn’t hear but you knew he was getting ready to say it out loud so you rubbed your fingers against his hand as he continued to mumble and shake his head.

“siri-sirius.. he left.” he said quietly but you heard him, you were confused but you heard him. before you could ask regulus went on. “it was bad tonight, before dinner. during dinner, sirius brought up james, something, i don’t know. then i got sent up after dinner like usual,” he said it so bitterly, like he blamed himself, “it was so bad, the screaming didn’t stop, but then it did. i don’t even remember but then i heard my mother yell at him— then i realized he left..” he started to cry as he spoke about it, he trailed off at the end as he stared to cry more.

without saying anything you wrapped your arms around him once again, regulus fell into your embrace and held onto your arm where it held him in-front of his chest.

“i’m so sorry, love.” you whispered to him as you brought one hand to stroke his head. he was so sick of crying but he knew it was needed, he couldn’t cry every time he was sent to his room the not cry until it happened again. you continued to whisper to him everything you could to try to help him, nothing could make him feel better.

after regulus cried more and continued to hold onto you, you understood why he held onto you the way he was.

“alright, let’s take a bath then sleep, m’kay?” he hummed in agreement as you helped him up to the bathroom.

once you both got in and out of the bathtub, you grabbed him some extra clothes he had at your house. you helped regulus change and helped him in bed after brushing your teeth.

he usually didn’t cuddle until he fell asleep, but he put himself on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him.

regulus fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp, the warmth of you, holding him against you.

[lynkennedy]

Warmth on a winter's night~

(R.A.B x Y/N) 2.8K Words.

-Summary: trying to get some fresh air from a ball, Regulus and Y/N have a deep conversation far into the snow covered garden of the Black Mansion.

-Contains: dark academia/royalty romance, fluff, kissing, implied queer Sirius, slight angst, She/Her pronouns, longing stares,

-Song: Beving: Ala, Joep Beving

🌙🤍🕯️❄️

3rd Person POV.

The chandeliers hung high above the dancing crowd. People moved in sync as they glided across the room while classical music rang out from the acentric vinyl player. Couples spun and looked upon one another while the lights gave the room a faint, white hue creating an elegant atmosphere. Candles floated far above the crowd slowly swaying as if they were mimicking the guests who were waltzing below them. The tall, and exquisite windows gave only a faint light from the full moon; the stars ghosted behind the gloomy snow clouds soon to pour upon the Black residency.

A large mural of a Roman painting was the background of Regulus Black as he gently pressed his back to the wall. Regulus was never exactly the social type, at least not at this large of an event. It was the winter solstice and the Black Family was known for their Winterfest Ball. Regulus was enjoying the music and simply observing the guests gliding across the smooth marble floor, a small part of him wished to have a partner to dance with but tried to deny his longings when Sirius was pestering him to dance earlier in the night.

Sirius was the center of attention at balls, at least among the youthful ladies who wished to snog him. Sirius would tempt them with his lush black hair and chivalrous personality but he never dared to actually go through with the snogging. Regulus watched as Sirius moved from a fair blonde girl to a more beautiful, and warm girl who looked at Sirius as if she saw a familiar sight before her.

“Good evening Sirius, how is the night treating you?” The girl spoke with a soft demeanor and danced with such grace Regulus couldn’t help but be enthralled by her.

“A good evening to you too, Y/N. The night is treating me oh so well I’ve almost been whisked away by many fair maidens.” Sirius could hardly contain his laughter at his posh language, Y/N always loved to act like they were royalty at balls to keep the mood light. Balls usually were fun for everyone except the Black children, if they made any mistake their parents would reprimand them for making a fool of their families name. Sirius used to be on edge every time he was at a ball but since he met Y/N he began to enjoy them.

“You always have fair maidens wanting to snog you!” A cheeky smile spread across her face as Sirius twirled her towards Regulus and quickly pulled her back in. Regulus recognized her but not exactly sure how. At first he just assumed it was one of Sirius flings but she seemed to stay longer than any of his previous girls, she seemed to actually enjoy being around Sirius not just for his pretty face.

Regulus watched as they continued to dance together so in sync it was almost hard to watch without wishing to be Sirius.

Regulus POV.

Sirius had spun the girl towards me and without even thinking about it I began to move towards the tall arch way opening into the hallway. I didn’t want to loiter here anymore wishing I was with a beautiful girl or anyone for that matter.

I dodged and weaved through the tides of couples dancing and slid past my parents undetected. I just needed some fresh air and a moment of silence. The music, the talking, and the stuffy air all became too much for me. I always get overwhelmed when I’m at balls, it’s just too much.

Getting to the arch way I took a sharp right, almost speed walking through the hallway and out the back patio doors. I continued to walk down the stairs off the dark patio, the ground felt cold under me. I stuffed my hands in my trouser pockets as the frost tried to nip at them. I always loved the winter, it was so quiet outside with most animals migrating or hiding in their homes. The sun usually wasn't bright, giving the outside world a dull look but I liked the “dull” look, I found it almost comforting. I just continued walking, lost in thought not listening to the footsteps that followed my own. I slowed down when I came to a willow tree with branches stretching wide with long strings of leaves hanging down.

“Regulus?” Someone touched my shoulder lightly, I turned towards them to realize who it was.

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?”

Y/N POV.

Sirius had been dancing with me for what seemed like ages, I could barely feel my feet in my heels I decided to wear. The ball had been quite exhausting so far, I enjoyed the people but after dancing for so long and constantly being surrounded by people in the stuffy ballroom I just wanted some fresh air honestly.

“SIRIUS! I'M GOING TO GO GET SOME AIR!” I had to yell over the music as it had somehow become louder and louder throughout the night. Sirius just gave me a nod and pointed towards the archway, then gestured to the right. I'd only been in the main part of the Black mansion for balls but I spent most of my summer sneaking into Sirius’ bedroom during the night when he needed someone to talk to. His parents were royally strict and hated their children having fun it seemed. They only cared for their children to uphold their family name and after that they neglected them without even another glance.

I followed where Sirius pointed and saw two tall, smudgeless, dark glass patio doors. When I walked up to the doors my eyes caught a glimpse of what looked like a dark figure, it must be a shadow from the ballroom. As I pulled open the door the cold hit my face quickly with a gust of freezing air. I wrapped my arms around me and walked down the patio stairs, through the garden. I could see fresh footprints in the snow as I walked, following them. The strides they took were large, hard to keep up with. In the garden there were lowly lit lamp posts illuminating the dark foliage of the Black’s garden. It had wilted roses with many dark boxwood bushes forming a twisty pathway. A ghastly tall viburnum bush had dark crimson berries growing, oddly tempting.

I continued my stroll through the garden at a quicker pace, I felt as if I was being pulled through the garden by twine tied around my waist. The snow made a soft squeak when I walked. I glanced forward trying to not become distracted by the greenery surrounding me, a large willow tree came into my view towards what seemed like the end of the pathway I had been following. A figure soon came into view as they moved in front of the tree’s droopy leaves. They had a slim build with incredibly dark hair that laid just below their chin, soft curls forming throughout their hair. The dark suit they wore had caught some snow as they walked, the small white flakes now decorated their suit and shoes while the majority of the flakes adorned their hair. They hadn’t noticed me as I walked closer, I reached my hand out to touch their shoulder. I didn’t want to scare them.

Regulus POV.

I turned quickly around towards who I now know to be Y/N, my brother’s best friend. I looked at her gown, realizing she was who Sirius was last dancing with before I left. All of my questions, well almost all had been answered. Sirius danced with her the longest because she wasn’t flirting with him, they were just messing around. I felt relieved in a way that my jealousy was over his best friend, not a new hook up. I always liked Y/N, she was fun and never seemed to care about anyone's opinions about her, I wish to be that carefree some day. Her face held a happy smile, a real smile. Her face was flushed from the cold I assume and her hair contained a snow globe worth of snow flakes. She was always very pretty but now she looked so naturally gorgeous it was hard to tear my eyes away from the masterpiece before me known as Y/N L/N.

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?” I realized how long I had been staring so I knew I had to speak before I made things awkward like I always do.

“I could ask you the same question Regulus, I just needed some air and I’m guessing you did too?” She always could see through me, even from how little we spoke she knew what I was thinking better than I did most of the time.

“Yeah, the ballroom always gets too warm for me, much prefer the cold.”

“It’s always so hot in there isn’t it?” Y/N’s face shifted into an understanding smile as she lightly laughed, she was such a fluid, expressional person I always enjoyed her presence.

“I don’t know how Sirius does it.” I let the words slip past my lips before even realizing what I said or who would hear.

“Does what? Dance for hours or get every girl to swoon for him.” She had begun to walk towards the tree and sit down on one of the large roots growing out of the tree, she seemed content with her seat.

“Precisely.” I answered her but I stayed still, I didn’t know if I should sit with her or if I’d make her uncomfortable with the proximity.

“You know I sat here so you would sit with me, I just look lonely now.” She let out a small huff as if disappointed by the lack of me next to her.

“S-Sorry, I just assumed you didn’t want me near you.” I quickly moved to sit by her, I could smell her soft vanilla perfume and feel the warmth radiate off of her.

“What? Why would I even think that Regulus, you’re not that terrible to be around, might even say I enjoy your presence.” Y/N let out the most gorgeous laugh, I just wanted to tape the sound and listen to it over and over again.

“I don’t know, I'm sorry for assuming, I won’t do it again.” My head fell slightly not wanting to see her face, I always apologize for my actions no matter how small, it’s what you must to do to survive as a Black child.

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m your mother, I’m not going to get upset at you Regulus, you’re safe with me.” I felt like I wanted to tear up, no one has told me anything so comforting before. I looked at her and just smiled.

Y/N POV.

A real smile graced Regulus’ lips, I couldn’t contain my own smile.

“I didn’t know you had dimples-” Regulus’ eyes seemed glazed over, I couldn’t tell with what. “they fit you well.” I wished to just capture a photo of Regulus right now, curls tousled from the wind, flushed cheeks and nose, soft eyes, he just looked so perfect. Regulus didn’t answer, he just looked towards the ground. He wore classy black Oxfords while I wore my black heeled mary janes. They oddly matched but in their own way sorta like me and Regulus. Regulus was so form fitting whilst I was in some ways rambunctious, I never apologize for being a free spirit but it’s hard not to be self conscious compared to all the proper young ladies who attend the balls. Sometimes I wish I was more classy or proper so I wouldn’t be looked down upon.

“Are you okay?” I turned to look at Regulus just to be met with his deep gray eyes, they reminded me of storm clouds with the different shades of grays and blacks. He wore a worried expression, I hoped he wasn’t overthinking again.

“Yeah, just lost in thought. It’s so quiet it’s hard to not just be in your own world.”

“I think that’s why I must like the quiet.” Regulus smiled and looked back down at our shoes, I wondered if he was thinking about me like I was thinking of him.

“What are you thinking about?” His question caught me off guard, I didn’t know if I should tell him what I was really hung up on or not.

“Um, it’s kinda hard to explain I guess.”

“Just say something and I’ll try and piece it together, I know how hard it is to convey what’s going through your head sometimes.”

“You know how you don’t know how Sirius does what he does?-“ Regulus gave a small nod, fully looking at me, his full attention on me. I could feel myself warm up under his gaze, even with how cold it was outside. “I feel that way about most girls my age, I don’t know how they can be so modest and forgiving. I feel like I’m too human sometimes, too unapologetically myself.” A small sigh left my lips and I watched as it changed into a mist like smoke.

“I like how you are, I don’t think you should apologize for being you, you’re lovely.” Regulus’ words made me want to melt right then and there. He had a confused look on his face, like a puppy learning what being sad was but not understanding.

“I’m not too much? I know Sirius can keep up with me but I feel like everyone else just wants me to be quiet.”

“You’re the only person I don’t want to be quiet, Y/N.” I looked at Regulus who was already looking at me, I felt my heart beat a little quicker and my face get warmer. I looked back down at our shoes, smiling. I felt Regulus shift next to me but just looked forward now, admiring the plants surrounding us.

A plush jacket fell onto my shoulders as Regulus readjusted it, “Y-You were shaking, didn’t want you to get cold.” His lips were slightly curled into a smile, his gray eyes seemed even more gorgeous than minutes ago. His soft curls fell perfectly onto his forehead, his nose and cheeks pinker now.

“You’re so gorgeous Regulus.” He looked deep into my eyes as I looked into his, I never wanted this moment to end. His small smile turned into a sweet, loving smirk. Regulus seemed much closer to me now than when he first sat down. His jacket lay comfortably around me, his cologne faintly on his jacket collar just enough to get a small hint of it occasionally. I felt very safe around him, a different type of feeling from being around Sirius. It had stopped snowing by now so the moon light shone onto Regulus’ face making his features look ethereal.

“Can I kiss you?” The words uttered so quietly out my mouth I didn’t even think he heard me till I was met with his lips gently pressing onto mine. His lips were soft and plush. He tasted like champagne and a small hint of sweets Sirius had stolen early in the night. I put one of my hands in his hair and the other rested on his chest just above his heart. The kiss was gentle yet longing as if it had been long time coming. Regulus hands were cupping my cheeks as he leaned into the kiss.

We slowly pulled away to catch our breaths, our eyes never leaving each other.

“You’re gorgeous too, Y/N.” Regulus complimented a smile plastered on his face like he had won the lottery.

Regulus POV

She kissed me, the most beautiful and courageous girl I’ve ever met kissed me, Regulus Black. I could barely speak. I just wanted to kiss her over and over again till I couldn’t anymore. She looked amazing wrapped up in my jacket and her lips plump from me kissing her. I could die right here and die the happiest man to live.

“I love being out here with you but It’s really getting cold.” She stood up gracefully and reached a hand out for me to take. I grabbed her hand and began to walk with her through the garden, hand in hand. Her hands were just as soft as her lips and felt warm somehow.

“Your hands are so warm, how?” She gave me a puzzled look and then a smile worth melting for.

“I’ve always just been a warm person.” A small laugh left her lips and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ve always been cold, we match in a way.”

“We do match.” We both were smiling like love sick teenagers which we in fact were. I couldn’t help it, she was holding my hand and it felt so right.

She was the warmth I had always longed for.

[lynkennedy]

Working on a dark academia, ballroom, romantic Regulus x Reader! It’s coming out better than I expected, can’t wait to finish it and post it! 🕯️🌙

[lynkennedy]

Regulus Black has truly consumed me and of course I had to make a playlist for him. 🤍

[lynkennedy]

Hi tumblr… I haven’t written on here in forever, it doesn’t seem that long but it’s been over 6 months last time I was writing about Rowan :( I want to continue writing and I want to do marauders era stories (x Reader or ships) if anyone has requests or ideas I’d love to hear them! 🤍

I write almost anything besides proships, graphic violence/angst, uncomfortable topics, etc.

[lynkennedy]

Request for Rowan x reader: Some misadventure leads Rowan to having a concussion and he gets a temporary personality transplant (you could make this anything you like: flirty, confident, horndog, etc).

💛💛💛

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I can just imagine he’s like super charming and constantly flirting with you lol

❤️

[lynkennedy]

This is so cute 💕

hi cate!! can u do a blurb where spencer gets like wine-drunk and is all touchy and shit with reader?

bonus points if he’s whiny and falls asleep on her bewbs 😁

okay i did this but they're not together because i think it's so cute

Rossi's is your favorite place to be with the team. Mostly because there's no murder or hurt, but also because your colleagues are a very fun group of people to hang out with. That included Spencer, who you might have developed a little bit of a crush on.

He's not doing anything to make himself less attractive tonight. Firstly it was the crisp suit. Who could ever resist him in that? Then there's the fact he's had a little more to drink than he usually would have, thanks to the sweet taste of the wine. And as evident from him clinging to you, when Spencer's drunk, he's adorable.

He's sitting next to you while you're outside around the fireplace with everyone else. "I have to tell you something." He announces, a little unaware of how loud he is but still trying to keep it a secret.

"Mm." You hum, turning to face him. "What's up?"

He leans forward, surprising you by cupping your ear to whisper to you. "You're really pretty." Apparently, his issues with personal space aren't a problem when he's had something to drink because his breath is hot against your neck.

"You've had a lot to drink, Spencer." You tell him.

"So?" He asks, pulling back to lean his head against your shoulder. "Doesn't mean you're any less beautiful."

You shake your head with a giggle, trying to stay casual although his words are making you blush bright red. "You're cute."

His head perks back up again. "You think so?"

"The cutest." You assure him. You're ignoring the looks you're getting from the team, their wide eyes focused on you. "But you look kind of tired. I can get Morgan to carry you to bed."

Spencer shakes his head, picking his feet up on the outdoor lounge and laying his head against your lap. It's not at all what you're expecting, but the weight of his head feels nice, and so does running your fingers through his hair while he falls asleep.

[lynkennedy]

Do you think you'll write more of Enchanted?

I definitely want to and plan to! I really enjoy the plot ideas I have for it and maybeeeee might write short stories of Y/N & Rowan 🫶

[lynkennedy]

Enchanted P:2

A Rowan Laslow x GN!Reader fanficiton…

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of themes of anxiety, let me know if I missed any!

2k words 💪

P:1 here

The clanging of metal striking metal echoed from the vast room. The Shuffling of feet met your ears before you had even entered the practice rooms. You wondered if Rowan had remembered you were coming or if he decided he didn’t need your help anymore. Unsurprisingly, worrying thoughts clouded your mind all day. The fog of your anxious thoughts made your lessons a blur, you could only remember Rowan.

You stopped abruptly before the doors, a heavy weight of anxiety lay on your shoulders. You’ve always been a worry wart as your mom used to say but now you were more of a worry plague. Taking a deep breath you pushed open the doors with a deafening creak, immediately being met with brown eyes looking straight at you. Rowan definitely remembered, you thought. Only now you realised just how well the fencing uniforms fit. A slight blush began to form on your features while you watched Rowan in awe at how handsome he looked while fencing.

You watched in horror as Rowan was tripped by Bianca, who used his diverted attention to her advantage. Rowan would curse himself for staring at you instead of winning against Bianca, which would be much more impressive he thought.

“Couch! She tripped me.” Pleaded Rowan to his couch while pulling himself off the ground. His couch held a stern look towards Rowan.

“It was a clean strike Rowan.” The couch stated not bothering to help Rowan up or even look at him.

Rowan stood not with grace but annoyance. His face was skewed in a contorted image you couldn’t exactly pick up, a mix of regret and disappointment you thought.

You began to walk towards Rowan on the sidelines avoiding the duels being fought. You didn’t know what exactly you were going to say to him. Gosh you were already almost towards him and you were blanking in the mind. Rowan’s head looked upwards catching your eyes. A small smile grew on Rowan’s sweaty features.

“Hi.” You greeted Rowan with a small wave and a reassuring smile. Rowan slightly shifted left so you could stand next to him. You noticed Rowan’s shoulders ease a tad, seemingly ridding him of some tension he still held onto.

“Hi. Sorry you had to watch me get my ass kicked, I swear I’m not always that terrible.” Apologised Rowan while scratching the back of his neck, a habit you were starting to recognize.

“Oh! don’t worry about it, honestly. You’re way better than me; plus Bianca's ruthless.” Rowan’s eyes were scanning Bianca and Xavier fencing now. Your eyes moved towards where he gazed.

The fight was gentle but with a dangerous side, similar to a poisoned spoon, seemingly inconspicuous but soon to kill. Bianca had the upper hand on Xavier but you could see the fire burning in Xavier’s eyes.

“I don’t think I’m really gonna practise much more if you want to go work?” Asked Rowan slightly, turning towards you. His eyes scanned your body calmly taking in your figure. Your eyes watched his gaze over you, feeling slightly vulnerable under his watchful gaze.

Clearing your thoughts quickly and readjusting your posture you spoke, “ Yeah of course, I’m alright with anything.” Looking towards your shoes giving Rowan a quick smile. Rowan began grabbing his messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“I uh need to head to my dorm and get changed, fencing uniforms aren’t exactly the most comfortable attire.” Rowan joked while giving the door you just previously entered a glance. You nodded your head and went to speak when Rowan had started saying something also.

“M-my bad! You g-go.” Spoke Rowan with an awkward laugh and a wave towards you. Just as you expected Rowan began to rub the back of his neck with a rueful smile.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to study in your dorm, my dorms all the way in Ophelia Hall so if you wanted to walk a while…” You dragged your sentence trying to imply that you really did not want to walk all the way back to your dorm. Something inside you was like bouncing around joyfully at the idea of seeing Rowan’s dorm.

“Y-Yeah sure, Xavier’s going to be out late anyways.” Rowan explained with a slight tinge of annoyance. Rowan’s broad shoulders slightly shifted as he looked towards Xavier who was now sitting on a bench across the room gazing outside the window, you noticed Xavier often was lost in thought, you admired how he could lose himself in simple things such as the birds outside the window.

“We should get going, I feel like I’m suffocating in this thing.” Prompted Rowan while pulling at his collar. You both began walking towards Rowan’s dorm when you remembered Rowan was Asmatic. You slightly began to worry for the poor boy's lungs, what would you do if he had an asthma attack? You’d probably panic and and forget what to do and he’d die and it’d be all your fau-

“A-Are you alright?” Asked Rowan noticing the spacey look that your face adorned, he hoped he didn’t say anything wrong to cause you to regret agreeing to study with him.

“Hm? Oh yeah sorry, just some things on my mind you know.” You added a thin lipped smile, hopefully he’d believe you.

“I know you don’t know me too well but I’m here if you need to talk. Xavier says I’m pretty good at listening, says it really humanises me, whatever that means.” Rowan looked bashfully at the ground, he wanted to be there for you but god was it hard to speak about touchy subjects.

“You’re so sweet Rowan, thank you.” You gave Rowan a genuine smile and it almost knocked the wind out of Rowan’s poor lungs.

You and Rowan walked to his dorm sharing some small talk and many secret glances at each other. You loved the way Rowan had slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to speed walk to keep up with him but in reality Rowan had wanted this walk to last as long as it can. Rowan felt like he just belonged walking by your side, cherishing all your small smiles and slight laughs when Rowan says something that wasn’t intended to be funny but Rowan just made everything amusing. Rowan had this effect to just radiate this comfortable, happy feeling. You loved this feeling and if you were honest you could spend hours upon hours with Rowan enjoying every moment.

The floorboards creaked under the weight of you two, you hadn’t noticed that you had arrived at Rowan's dorm, you were so caught up in talking about this plant Miss. Thornhill had given you to foster that you didn’t realise you had arrived at his dorm.

Rowan began unlocking the door and you followed him into the oh so magic dorm as you called it in some of your rambling. You stood almost in the middle of the room while Rowan was setting his bag down by his desk and rustling through it.

Your eyes wandered like mad, taking in the room. Rowan’s bed was neat and had a dark blue comforter on it with matching pillows. He had a small table next to his bed with a couple of books later messily atop it. Rowan’s desk was the next masterpiece you laid your eyes on, it was neat to the naked eye but you could see a couple of loose papers with scribbles upon it. A Victorian looking dictionary sat adjacent to a mason jar of what looked like charcoal pencils. Rowan definitely seemed an enjoyer of dark academia, he even had a vinyl player on a shelf near his desk. The thing looked as if it was 100 years old.

You walked towards the vinyl player while Rowan watched as you examined his side of the dorm. He’d be lying if his heart hadn’t sped up at the thought of you seeing his living space, it almost seemed intimate.

“My grandpa gave me that, I only really use it when I’m studying. Xavier doesn’t really like my taste in music.” Rowan walked up closer to you and he swore you could hear his heart beating.

“What type of music do you like?” You questioned while making eye contact with Rowan, his cheeks had a rosy hue to them that made you bite your tongue to hold back from smiling.

“Okay, don’t judge me though” Rowan grimaced at the idea of telling you his music taste. The idea something so insignificant could alter your entire perception of Rowan made the hair on Rowan’s arms stand up.

“I wouldn’t judge you Rowan, It’s just music.” You eyed Rowan with a sympathetic smile and gentle eyes.

“I like musicals, AND other stuff, not just musicals, but mainly musicals…” Rowan wanted to run out of the room and never speak to you again in fear of this conversation haunting him forever.

“Rowan, that’s not bad at all. I was expecting something like post death metal due to the build up.” It was a relief Rowan wasn’t into some oddly specific genre of music and constantly was asking people to name three songs. Rowan was a genuine nice guy, you adored him for it.

“Phew, I just like the way they tell a story. You can take the kid out of theatre but you can’t take the theatre out of the kid.” Rowan was trying desperately to save his ass but he just admitted to being a theatre kid, the hole was becoming quite deep and Rowan did not know how to dig himself out of it.

“My mom used to watch Hairspray all the time. It’s the only musical I’ve really seen or listened to.” You explained while Rowan observed your features with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“T-That ones pretty good, my favourite is The Phantom of the Opera, I could listen to the soundtrack for hours.” Rowan’s smile broke through now thinking of the fond memories of his favourite musical. He could practically recite it word for word, not like he’d admit that to you.

The conversation continued on as you both began to get out your school supplies and you settled onto Rowan’s bed. Rowan had excused himself before you had started studying to take a brisk shower and get changed out of his fencing uniform.

You were lost in thought while reading a new chapter in your Botany textbook. You hadn’t noticed a dripping Rowan walk into the room with fogged up glasses. His hair was a mess as he had dried it slightly with a towel.

Rowan walked into the room hoping you’d still be there. Maybe you’d run away under the impression that he was some weird musical fanatic who’s never had a girl in his dorm; half of that was true, sorta.

The bed dipped down under Rowan’s weight and your eyes looked upwards onto a heavenly sight. Rowan Laslow in a loose t-shirt paired with grey joggers. His hair was damp but not dripping, it was at an awkward length compared to when he had it styled during school. Rowan’s glasses were loosely on the bridge of his nose making a want in you to grow just to fix them.

“Do I uh, have something on my face?” Rowan asked with an embarrassed smile while his eyes fixated on the sheets beneath you two besides his frequent glances towards you.

“NO-nonono, I’ve just never seen you without your hair being styled, it looks nice. I like it.” Rowan went crimson red, god was he easily flustered.

“T-Thank You, I-I like your hair too.” Rowan looked like a love sick flustered puppy right now. A slightly cheesy yet embarrassed grin laid on his handsome features with soft eyes looking at you.

Rowan laid onto his back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling and then turned towards you. He just looked at you, not saying anything. You looked back at him and stared into his eyes. Getting lost in his hazel eyes, you could make out a greenish ring around his pupils while the main part of his eye was a beautiful light brown with slight gold tints.

“Can I ask you something?”

Cliff hanger 🤭 (not sorry lols)

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[lynkennedy]

I couldn’t sleep last night and ig during my restless night I wrote a whole Drabble about Xavier. I do NOT remember writing it at all but it’s lowkey good 😭