#but Morgan is currently louder <3

[lolasimms]

a lots gonna change pt.5

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues, and things change.

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“Tell me who you belong to.” She demanded, hand wrapping around your thigh, squeezing tight.

“You… I belong to you.” You could hardly speak but managed to get that much out between her hard licks. Tears of pain and pleasure started to form in your eyes.

“Say it! Who!” She shouted. “Who makes you feel this good?”

You moaned louder. “...mommy… only mommy fucks me this good…”

Your wife had your legs wrapped over her shoulders, licking and sucking as you moaned uncontrollably. Her fingers plunged inside you, as your soft, tight walls throbbed around her, as her fingers moved continuously on your clit, rubbing her tongue against it in tandem with her hand. Your body began quaking as you overcame your orgasm, screaming obscenities into the otherwise quiet room.

You inhaled deeply, trying to catch your breath as you lifted your head from the bed to look at her. She was kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed, face slick from your release, her cheeks a dark shaded crimson.

"Jesus... when you asked to come upstairs for a kiss, I didn't expect that..." you muttered, breathless and smiling.

-

Ellie was sat on the left side of the sofa, like she always did, her fingertips drumming lightly against the soft fabric of her black slacks. Louise, your couples therapist, sat adjacent to the couch, in her armchair tapping her fountain pen against a notebook. The two of them didn't share a word, save for greetings and awkward smiles of acknowledgment. Ellie glanced at the clock that sat on the wall and sighed, where were you?

It was now nearing 4, and you had agreed to meet Ellie at 3:30. Yet you still hadn’t arrived, to make matters worse your phone wasn’t going through which was strange, as you were always reachable.

"Mrs. Williams, I have a client coming in, in about" she looks at her watch and gazes back at her. "15 minutes, I'm always happy to reschedule" she smiles politely, as she gets up and walks to her desk.

"Sure, I apologise on behalf of my wife, I'm not sure what's going on" she says, as she rises from the couch then collects her coat.

"No need, she's a working woman again, we can't blame her" she smiles and walks Ellie to the door. She nods her goodbye as she exits the office, slightly glad she wouldn't have to sit through another session.

-

You were currently in the parking lot of a local bar, sat on the curb as Abby and Morgan, tried to fix your car. After finishing off work quite early, Abby had persuaded you into joining she and the rest of the team for drinks, seeing as you still had 1 hour before you and Ellie’s session you’d agreed reluctantly. After a single gin and tonic (to avoid going over the limit) you packed your things and bid the crew goodbye, but once you got to your car you realised you'd be stuck in this parking lot way longer than you'd like. To ensure Ellie didn't waste her time waiting for you, you quickly plucked your phone out of your purse only to find that it had died.

"So what exactly is wrong with it?" You ask, coming up behind Abby and Morgan who are stationed in front of the car with the hood popped open.

"Nothing, we've checked everything from the engine to the battery and it all seems to be okay, I'm not sure why it won't start" says Morgan as he scratches his head in thought.

"I think it's a problem with your key, the battery in it is dead so you're going to need an entirely new key... or do you have a spare?" Abby asks as she turns around to face you.

"Yeah, but it's at home" you reply.

"Well without that spare key, this car is not moving" Abby says, making you groan. This couldn't have come at a less convenient time. Ellie was either fuming or worried, you were hoping for the latter.

-

After your failure to show at todays counselling session, Ellie picked Lila up from Joel’s and went straight home. By now Lila was fully better and her irritability and clinging had thankfully come to a stop. That didn't mean she dropped the sass. Ellie prompted to make dinner, so when you returned, whenever that was, the three of you could eat together but Lila had other plans.

"No momma, tea party!" She yelled from the kitchen floor as she tugged on her legs. If she weren't her child, Ellie would've been tempted to step on her.

"No, I have to make dinner" her voice stern and decided, leading the child to roll her eyes, a habit she had very recently become accustomed to.

"Mean momma" she angrily toddles out of the kitchen with her pink and gold embellished tea cup, causing her to sigh and return her attention to the dinner she was trying to make.

-

Just when you thought your evening couldn't have gotten any worse, rain began pouring heavily. Morgan and Abby encouraged you to leave your car here for the night and have one of them take you home. Abby being more than willing to take you home, one could even say she was quite adamant. You didn't want to be stuck in the rainfall waiting for Ellie to pick you up and the short sleeved blouse and pencil skirt you sported didn't help so you accepted her offer.

"I've turned the heater on, I can see that you're freezing" She says as her hand strokes your thigh, for a lone second. You immediately shift uncomfortably at her advance. She knew you were married, she had met your wife and kid and yet her flirting never stopped. You whispered a quiet, “thank you” and kept your attention on your lap, as you played with your wedding band.

"Here, have this it seems the heater isn't working in your favour" Abby smiles at you, while reaching for a coat that was splayed on one of her backseats. You accept the offering not wanting to freeze, as you sink further into the warmth of the heated chair.

"Thank you, I'm not usually affected this much by the cold" you reassure her as you look outside the car window, lost in the buzz of traffic and the street lights of the cities boulevards.

"Well that's one thing we have in common” She simply smiles ahead, her eyes focused on the road. The car falls silent and you spend the rest of the ride sat in gentle silence.

-

"Where's mommy?" Lila has returned to the kitchen after giving her mother the silent treatment, in search for her other mother.

"I don't know baby, she's running late isn't she?" Ellie reaches down to pick her up when she hears a knock at the door.

"Mommy?" She questions, looking at Ellie in search for answers.

"Well let's go see if it is mommy" she states as she makes her way over to the foyer to get the door.

-

The doors to your home open and you are met with Ellie, who is stood in her usual band tee and a pair of sweatpants, with Lila sat in her arms. The first thing she notices is your freezing state and the oversized coat that clings to your body.

"Y/n, what the fuck happened are you okay?" Ellie questions as she hikes Lila higher and looks at you worriedly. Lila waves at you sweetly and you return the action making her smile.

"I'm so sorry I missed todays session, our team went for a drink and then my car wouldn't start so Abby was kind enough to drop me home" you say as you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

"Don't worry about that, come in you're freezing" Ellie ushers you into the house and immediately reaches for her phone, adjusting the home’s controls to turn the heat up.

"So what happened to your car?" She asks as she leads you to the kitchen and starts the kettle.

"I'm not entirely sure, you know I don't know shit about cars, but Abby thinks my key battery died" She looks at you as she drops a teabag of chamomile and stirs a small spoon of sugar into a large embellished teacup.

"Yeah, that shit happens you'll need to carry around your spare from here on out, I was worried" she says, placing the cup of tea on the island and leaning down for a kiss.

"I know I'm sorry, here can you put my phone in charge I'm just going to let Abby in, she needed to use our bathroom" you say as you place your cup down and make your way back outside. Ellie rolls her eyes, not wanting to be in the presence of that woman who so clearly wanted you.

"Hungry!" Lila whines and Ellie decides it's time she reheat the dinner she so graciously prepared.

-

"Still need to take a leak?" You question Abby through her rolled down window, she smiles and nods so you lead her into the house.

"You have a nice home" she observes the foyer in all its glory, the glossy orange hue from the midway entries, large vintage light piece glowing through her blue orbs.

“Thank you” you say, as you lead her further into the home.

-

"Abby, evening" Ellie says as she stands behind the island, a pot of spaghetti in hand, Lila is sat on a bar stool, colouring a rather hideous drawing she had made.

"Evening Ellie, sorry for disrupting your dinner but I have to use the restroom" Ellie nods and focuses back on what you're assuming was spaghetti and meatballs, one of very few meals she knew how to make. You show Abby to the bathroom and return to the kitchen.

"Did you cook, dinner?" You ask, coming behind Ellie who was grating a generous amount of cheese onto the meal. You wrap your arms around her waist, peppering kisses onto her neck and back.

"Yes, you know you’re not the only one who knows how to cook around here” she smirks as she plates some of it, opting to give Lila a smaller portion as her appetite was not quite as big as the two of yours.

"Mmmmmm, it smells really good, best way to end the night" you smile as you nuzzle further into her.

"Well there are better ways to end the night" she smiles, looking down at you and you know where this is going.

"Don't be dirty minded" you playfully smack her arm and she laughs at you. "Hey, to be fair you thought it" you can't help but push her again and then look to your left where Abby has now entered the kitchen.

"Oh Abby, everything alright?" You question as she straightens her suit and walks over to you.

"Yeah, thank you for your restroom, I'll be leaving now" she smiles.

"You can stay for dinner" you blurt out, unsure of where the idea had come from. Ellie physically tenses up at your words and turns to you.

"She can, since when?" She says out loud and you roll your eyes at her bluntness.

"It's fine Y/n I wouldn't want to impose, plus my cat is probably due a feeding" she waves off dismissing your invitation.

"Well I suppose another time then" you smile apologetically at her, embarrassed by Ellie’s behaviour. Abby simply nods. You expect her to make her way to the door when once again she walks up to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. Your body freezes up and you turn to gauge Ellie’s reaction.

"I'll see you out" Ellie spits through her teeth and you have to suppress a groan at the obvious strap off the two of them were having.

-

"What are your intentions with my wife?" Ellie asks as she and Abby walk through the halls towards the front door.

"Nothing, I find y/n to be a good friend, you’re lucky to have her" Abby says, trying to make Ellie feel small, or at-least that's what Ellie felt she was attempting. As she towered over her, smirking.

"Good, I'm glad you know your boundaries, just remember that she’s my wife, she belongs to me" they've made it to the door and Abby steps out of the house, Ellie’s left leaning on the frame of the front door, gazing at her with fury.

"Goodnight Ellie, pass my regards to y/n and Lila"

"I will" Ellie lowly spits, she attempts to close the door when Abby suddenly calls her name once more making her halt.

"By the way, tell y/n she can keep my coat for as long as she pleases" Abby is now smirking, as she walks away in the rain, making her way over to her car. Ellie wasn't sure what she was feeling but she sure as hell was seeing red, she was going to kill that motherfucker.

-

"Mmmm" Lila exclaims each time you feed her a mouthful of the spaghetti. Ever since the awkward encounter between Abby and Ellie, the two of you hadn't spoken a word to one another. You were upset that she couldn't be civil with your colleague, but also couldn’t blame her as Abby couldn’t seem to keep her hands to herself. You however didn’t understand why Ellie was taking her anger out on you. It’s not like you were entertaining Abby’s advances.

"All done?" You question Lila and she nods, you pick her plate and yours up, place them in the dishwasher and pick up the messy child who was now covered in spaghetti sauce.

"Say Goodnight to momma" you tell her, as she was off to bed from here and you knew she took it very seriously whenever she didn't get to bid Ellie goodnight.

"G'night momma" she says as she leans down and places a kiss on Ellie’s cheek. She mutters goodnight to her daughter, placing a small kiss on her forehead and then proceeds to pack up the table.

After giving Lila a bath and settling the toddler in for the night, you head to your room, deciding it was about time you finally called it a day.

-

"I changed the sheets" Ellie mumbles as you enter the bed, fresh out the shower.

"Thanks" you mumble, as you reach into your bedside table to grab the book you were reading.

"Why did you have her coat on?" You hear her blurt abruptly as you are halfway through your page.

"What kind of question is that?" You now place the book on the side table and gaze at her.

"It's a question, now answer it"

"I know what your stupid question is insinuating Ellie, and I'm offended you would think that lowly of me" she shakes her head and sighs. Honestly you’d had a hell of a day, and weren’t in the mood for her accusations.

"This isn't about what I think of you, she fucking kisses you infront of me, she has no sense of boundaries. I don't trust her and I can tell from the way she acts around you that she wants to be more than friends and you're blind if you can't see that."

Her voice is calm and collected, she must've been utilising the tips Louise had given the two of you during your sessions, about settling conflicts.

"As my wife you should trust me enough to not worry when I'm in the company of those that you don't trust. To assume that I did anything with that woman is unfair and disrespectful" you counter.

"It's jus-"

"If we don't have trust we have nothing Ellie" tears begin to spill down your face and she can't help but feel guilty. You grab your book and phone and climb out of the bed, heading straight for the door.

"Y/n come back!" She urges, but you aren't hearing any of it and exit the room making your way to the guest room.

She felt like shit, she let her greed and selfishness push her into cheating. Not only was she doing that but she was pushing the paranoia she, herself manifested by her own cheating onto you. You didn't deserve this, any of this and she was running out of ways to make things better.

taglist:

@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup

[azures-bazar]

Let’s do headcannons with Sadie, Arthur, Charles, Mary beth, Karen and Dutch reacting to fem s/o that has such a hilarious funny laugh. When she laughs it sounds like a crow mixed with a seagull XD she can’t help having such a crazy laugh and one day she cackles so loudly that the people in Valentine could hear it. What would their reaction be?

Headcanon - Peculiar Laugh - Female!Reader

Hey there anon ! Thank you for your request ! Having a very strange laugh myself, I couldn't relate more to this lol

I apologize in advance for all character inaccuracies and grammar mistakes, as always :')

I'm also really sorry for being this late, things are not going so well at my job so I kinda struggle at the moment to keep up with my usual writing pace, but I'll be back on track soon ! <3

Request : Female!Reader

Characters : Arthur Morgan, Sadie Adler, Charles Smith, Dutch Van der Linde Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones

Relationship : Romantic, settled

Lines : From 8 to 10 per character

Arthur Morgan : 

You were cleaning your riffle with Tilly after a long day on guard duty, talking about some common stuff you both enjoy. You even get to talk about Arthur, who is sitting nearby, drawing something in his journal… but then, out of the blue, Tilly asks you a very strange question. "If a cougar and a cat could reproduce, would their kids be huge or average-sized cats ?". 

At first, you don’t really understand what Tilly just said, so you just shrug. Her question is genuinely interesting to think about, but your brain processes it as a very good joke, causing you to start chuckling. What the hell was going on in her mind ? The more you think about that question, the louder you laugh. And Tilly follows. 

Arthur quickly rises from his spot to glance around when he first hears your peculiar laugh. Of course, he had already seen you chuckling and was somewhat surprised by the noise you could make, but he never heard you roar with laughter. "What the hell was that ?" he mumbles. He quickly drops his journal in his satchel and puts his hand on his gun, walking closer to the noise. What if it was an attack ?

He spots you laughing with Miss Tilly, who can’t hold back her tears while you’re nearly suffocating. In fact, the way you’re laughing is so amusing that even Arthur can’t help but chuckle at this lovely sight of his sister and his adorable lady having a good time ! 

Being a protective bear, Arthur instinctively takes both your riffles away before Tilly is called by Ms. Grimshaw to help her clean the camp’s round table. "Lemme take ‘em riffles, ladies." he chuckles as he calmly puts your weapons on the ground. You can’t stop laughing, still thinking about Tilly’s peculiar question. What if ? Indeed, what if ? Arthur quickly gets you some water in a cup, but you can’t drink it just yet. 

Arthur progressively looses it what watching you go further and further into an endless hilarity. He still chuckles, trying to understand what made you start laughing like this, but you can barely explain it. You can’t even breathe properly ! "Well, I don’t know what you girls were talkin’ ‘bout, but it sure was fun !" Arthur giggles. 

You try your best to keep breathing, but can’t stop laughing, even if Arthur begs you to calm down a little. He tries his best to hold himself from laughing out loud with you, believing the rest of the gang would think he’s crazy, or that the Pinkertons would find you. He’s somewhat ashamed of his laugh, which is terribly sad. "Stop laughing, Y/N… please…" he giggles as tears start streaming on his face, rubbing your shoulders. 

While you try taking a deep breath, your voice suddenly turns into the exact same noise a crow would make… and this is what causes Arthur to start laughing with you. He just gives in, your laugh is too fun for him to remain stern-faced ! Not even the toughest of Dutch’s men can resist this funny laugh that is yours ! 

The more you laugh, the more he laughs. He just adores the overall noise you’re currently making. It’s so hilarious ! Your laugh is so peculiar, so fun to hear… looking at you trying to calm yourself down only makes him love you more. His amusement perfectly matches the total adoration he vows you. 

It takes you quite a while to stop laughing, and Arthur almost feels a little sad that this moment has to come to an end. "Your laugh is funny, Y/N… You’re quite a strange lady…!" he tells you before dropping a sweet kiss on your forehead. This event causes him to write a new entry in his journal, describing your laugh as a "strange combination between a crow and a seagull which probably had a few drinks.".

Sadie Adler : 

Your day is so boring ! You just want to do something relevant, apart from washing clothes or cleaning tables while some gang members are out there having fun ! So you’re tasked to help Mr. Pearson to chop some vegetables. Leeks, for instance. At least, it’s more entertaining than having listen to Ms. Grimshaw’s complaints ! 

Sadie passes nearby and quickly takes two round slices of the leeks you just chopped, removes the middle part and gets them to her eyes. "Hallo, I’m Herr Strauss !" she jokes, obviously not expecting your reaction. She had seen you so bored that she just wanted to make you smile, and did much more than that. 

The single view of a happy Sadie, who doesn’t smile much because of what she has been living, warms your heart… but her childish imitation of Strauss is absolutely worth the watch, causing you to literally drop your knife on the table and start cackling. Loudly.

Sadie never heard you laugh like this. At first, she freezes in place and looks at you trying to calm your breathing. "Wow, didn’t know a seagull was in there !" she chuckles. Her words don’t help you, you’re pretty aware about your peculiar laugh, and you don’t mind it !

Listening to the noise you’re currently making cause you to enter into an infernal circle. You can hear your laugh, and now… you’re literally laughing at yourself, but you can’t stop. And Mrs. Adler, who tries her best to remain calm, hides some early laughs behind her sleeve. She feels so good and relaxed ! 

As you try breathing, making very strange noises, Sadie looks around while wrapping her arm around your shoulders. People pass by you with wide opened eyes, not only because of this unique laugh they hear, but also because Mrs. Adler is having a good time as well. 

"Stop laughin’ or I’m gonna loose it !" she chuckles, not able to keep calm with you the way you cackle. It’s been a while since she didn’t feel something so great, so calming as some sheer happiness. Your laugh, as strange as it sounds, makes her feel really happy. 

When Pearson comes back, he immediately dismisses the two of you, which makes you laugh even louder. Everyone looks at your direction, either surprised or amused, and Sadie keeps her arm wrapped around your shoulders. At this moment, if she closes her eyes, she feels like she’s having fun with a literal seagull. 

Sadie tries her best to calm you down to allow you to keep breathing, but nothing truly helps. Not even her covering your face with kisses. Nothing really works, but Sadie still resists the idea of bursting out laughing with you. She doesn’t want to suffocate ! 

After some time, your laughs finally come to an end, allowing you to take a deep and well deserved breath. You look at Sadie, who is giving you a very bright smile. As she tried to make you grin, your laugh made her genuinely happy. And it was definitely worth it, for the two of you. 

Charles Smith : 

You and Sean were having a drink together by the campfire, somewhere in the middle of the day. MacGuire is already drunk and keeps saying very awkward things, but something really triggers your laughter. "I thought I’d try runnin’ a dating service for chickens, but I’d be strugglin’ to make hens meet.". 

This joke is so simple and unexpected that you burst out laughing. Everyone knows that your laugh sounds a little funny, but you never really had the opportunity to start cackling the way you did. People around the hideout literally stop what they are doing to look at you and smile… but not Charles. 

When he first hears you laughing, Charles somewhat freezes in place. He nervously looks around the hideout, trying to find the source of such very… peculiar sound. He knows about your laugh, but something in what he heard did not sound right. "I don’t know what animal it is…" he whispers to himself.

Charles instinctively runs towards camp to see if there is any source of danger. Thankfully enough, everyone seems to be calm and quite happy, but this weird sound he can’t recognise can still be heard, causing him to feel a little worried. Is there anyone hurt outside the hideout ? Is that a wounded animal ? Who knows ? 

He walks around the hideout to the find the source of such sound, finding you laughing with Sean. He even notices some tears of laughter and smiles. "What did you tell her, MacGuire ?" he asks Sean, but your local Irish Terrier can’t respond, nearly suffocating. He had first laughed at his own joke, but now… he’s laughing because of you. 

Let’s be honest, your laugh is contagious. This very strange combination between a seagull and a crow is so unique that nobody can remain stern faced while listening to your laugh. And, despite trying his best to hold himself from doing the same, Charles starts chuckling. 

He calmly sits nearby to just look at you. You’re so beautiful when you laugh !… even if it basically sounds like an animal is dying nearby. Charles loves you for what you are, and your laugh, as peculiar as it sounds, only makes him love you more. 

Charles sees you suffocating a little because of this endless spiral you slipped into with Sean and starts massaging your shoulders. He still tries his best to hide his chuckles as he’s worried while watching your inability to breathe properly, but gives in and laughs with you. "It’s okay there, darling. Please take a deep breath." he tries telling you between two subtle laughs. 

It takes you about five or six minutes to calm down, and Charles is right here, holding you by the shoulders. As Sean leaves to get another beer, you finally get to sigh, being watched over by Mr. Smith who only has eyes on you today. 

"Feels good to see you laughing." he says before gently kissing your temple. He wants you to be happy more often and never to hide your peculiar laugh. He loves you so much, and wants you to be the happiest woman on earth. You deserve the world… and the world is not ready to hear your laugh again. 

Dutch Van der Linde : 

You had a long day and could finally relax by reading a book outside Dutch’s tent. As you thought you picked up one of Evelyn Miller’s works, you unexpectedly stumble upon a book that appears to be… a little erotic. The worst is that you genuinely believe Evelyn Miller wrote this, which causes you to chuckle. 

The more you read that book, the more you giggle at your expectations about Evelyn Miller. You start cackling so loud that Dutch, who is out there smoking his cigar, quickly runs towards his tent. He knows about your peculiar laugh, he was first somewhat surprised hear it. But right now, he genuinely thought you had hurt yourself. 

"Are you alright, sweet girl ?" he asks you before kneeling down. You can’t stop laughing, causing him to look a little concerned about what triggered your sudden hilarity. He looks around to check if the rest of the gang is alright, it looks like you started laughing because of the book you’re holding in your hands. 

You try telling Dutch that you thought Evelyn Miller was the one who wrote that book, but you’re suffocating so much that no clear words but the author’s name come out of your mouth. Dutch takes the book away, a little confused, and reads a few pages. 

For a few seconds, he wants to scold you for believing that his favourite author and absolute role model is the one who wrote this erotic book, but the way you’re laughing quickly stops him. You look so sweet when you’re happy ! "Well sorry, dear Y/N, but Mr. Miller didn’t write this book." he smiles. 

The more you laugh, the more he wants to laugh with you. He tries his best to remain stern faced, coughing in his sleeve do stop a burst of hilarity you triggered in him. Your peculiar laugh always made him smile, as far as he could remember ! 

"C’mon Y/N you’re gonna make me laugh and I’ll look ridiculous." he tells you, but you can’t stop. No, you can’t. Still having in mind that Evelyn Miller is the one who wrote this book, your ideas about Dutch worshipping his favourite author makes you loose it. Who would have thought Mr. Van der Linde owns an erotic book anyway ? 

At some point, your laugh is so loud that even birds start flying away. Dutch sits besides you and clenches his teeth before letting out a soft giggle… which doesn’t last long, since just a few seconds are needed for him to slip into hilarity. Your laughs don’t match, but it’s somewhat funny !

In order not to be seen laughing, Dutch drags you to his tent and sits on the bed with you. He even reads a few extracts of the book with his eyes wide open, tears streaming on his cheeks because he can’t stop laughing. Your laugh is too genuine for him to walk away as he usually does ! 

When the night comes, the two of you finally stop laughing and can leave Dutch’s tent. "I love seeing you laugh." Dutch smiles, kissing your lips. "But I have completely forgotten about this erotic book, don’t tell anyone.". You will try your best, but that’s quite tempting !

Mary-Beth Gaskill : 

You’re sitting alone by one of the trees of Horseshoe Overlook, before the cliff, facing the sunset. You had a long day after doing a successful robbery, nobody wanted to bother you. Not even Ms. Grimshaw, which is quite surprising considering it’s ‘her camp, her rules.’.

You’re gazing at the sky, noticing that two birds are currently making some sweet figures above you. While they're chirping, flying away from each other and then coming back, they unexpectedly bump their heads, causing you to gasp. You see them chirping louder afterwards during a short fall, causing you to start laughing. These two birds are literally an old couple having an argument, just like Dutch and Hosea !

When she hears your laugh, Mary-Beth is absolutely startled and quickly grabs her knife, believing someone is currently being tortured nearby. "Oh lord…" she gasps, looking at the surroundings as she notices that this strange noise is coming from a tree near the cliff of the hideout. No one seems to care much about that noise. 

She calmly gets closer to your spot and notices you laughing, causing her to sigh and kneel before you, calmly taking your hands between hers with a sweet smile. "Are you okay, Y/N ?" she asks, still looking a little concerned. Your laugh is absolutely hilarious, causing her to chuckle a little. 

You’re laughing so loudly that people could easily hear your voice in Valentine… if not even in Strawberry or Blackwater. Mary-Beth tries shushing you a little, calmly passing her hands through your hair while looking around. What if Pinkertons found you because of your laugh ? 

The more Mary-Beth listens to your voice, the more she wants to chuckle with you. "Sweet Y/N, you’re going to make me laugh !" she giggles. Your teary face and beautiful smile are not helping her resist this sudden temptation to join you in a laughing session. 

Mary-Beth finally gives in after a few good seconds, letting out a nice laugh to accompany yours. Your voices don’t really math at the moment, but that’s no big deal. Mary-Beth needed to laugh, she never really had the opportunity to have some fun since the Blackwater incident. It felt so good !

The two of you laugh until the sun goes down, called by Ms. Grimshaw to get your portion of stew. You had completely forgotten the notion of time ! You finally get to explain that these two birds, the way they bumped their heads, the way they chirped made you loose it… it gives Mary-Beth a new idea for the book she’s currently writing. Your laugh will also have a very detailed description ! 

Karen Jones :

You and Karen spent an entire day doing laundry, taking care of the camp, patrolling around the hideout with your respective riffles in your hands. Right now, the only thing you want is to have a good drink. And… let’s just say you had a few of them. After all, don’t you deserve a beer for what you’re doing ?

With this dose of alcohol held in your body, your brain can’t really function normally. So anything Karen says can easily trigger either laughs or tears. Karen starts mimicking Arthur, who is grumbling on his cot, obviously not happy about this sudden imitation. "I’m a strong and threatening cowboy who eats flowers !" she roars. And the overall situation is what triggers your sudden laugh. 

The noise you just made quickly freezes Karen who quickly stops her imitation, looking straight towards your direction. "What the hell was that !" she gasps with a large smile as she sees you trying to mute your laughs behind your hands. "Oh my god, Y/N !" she chuckles.  

You try apologising, but no word can come out of your mouth some other very weird noises. As she notices you can’t stop laughing, Karen restarts her drunken imitation of Arthur, who is still pouting on his bed. "Fear me, I love horses more than humans ! Fear me !" she shouts. 

Karen absolutely adores watching you laugh, despite being a little weirded out by this hilarious noise she just heard. It only adds some more depth to your incredible personality, and Karen loves people with very strong personalities… or drunk fools like Sean.  

She keeps imitating Arthur, causing him to leave his tent to have a drink with John and Bill. "And now I’ll head for a beer with ma’ dumb brothers !" Karen groans, leading you to laugh even louder than before. Dear lord, it feels so great to see you smile, and Miss Jones won’t make it stop just yet ! 

At some point, her legs can’t hold her anymore, causing her to sit by you. She looks at you for a moment with starry eyes, still amused by your peculiar laugh. Being drunk makes her enjoy this moment even more than what she expected, as she chuckles with you ! 

You stop laughing after some time, causing Karen, and the rest of the gang, mostly, to feel a sudden void around the hideout. Even if your laugh was peculiar and not forcibly the most elegant, Karen loved it, but she will surely shiver whenever she will hear it again !

[theartistknownaslymond]

A playlist for the equivalent of the sequence where Francis thinks Richard and Sibylla have drowned (through to the revelations at Calais if you want) please.

My god you're evil Katherine <3

Nothing but the Cathartic

A band AU playlist for a six hour hungover drive through the night to confirm whether the relatives you keep trying to estrange yourself from, who you actually love beyond words, have drowned*

1) Kate Bush - Watching You Without Me 2) Joan Baez - House Carpenter 3) Jean-Roger Caussimon - La Manche 4) The Watersons - Idumea 5) John Lennon - Mother 6) Lady Maisery - The Changeling's Lullaby 7) Sily Sisters - Burning of Auchindoon 8) Anne Briggs - Lowlands 9) Justin Hayward & John Lodge - My Brother 10) Maddy Prior & Tim Hart - I Live Not Where I Love 11) Joni Mitchell [Morgan James, because Spotify] - The Last Time I Saw Richard 12) Pentangle - Lyke-Wake Dirge 13) Nic Jones - Isle of France 14) Rani Arbo & Daisy Mayhem - Crossing the Bar 15) Charles Trenet - La Mer

'Then all the more credit to you,' said Erskine, seating himself, 'for entertaining such strong family feelings. We heard of your ride. I trust you are now quite rested after it.' The young man's mouth opened. 'The ride!' He sat down. 'My dear sir, the ride was nothing but the cathartic. It was the banquet at the Hôtel de Ville that did for me.'

*n.b. for a real hungover night drive you should a) let Archie drive and b) choose louder songs to keep you awake

I know I should be posting the celebrating-Thatcher’s-demise playlist today, but that one isn’t ready, so you get a miserable mourning one instead whoops

1) This is from The Ninth Wave, the B-side of Hounds of Love about a woman lost at sea. It's her pov on her relatives waiting for her to return - so the reverse of Francis imagining Sibylla and Richard are dead, but Sibylla wants to see what he's like imaging Richard's dead, and in terms of the misunderstandings and not-hearing-each-others it seems fitting for the fmaily at this point. 2) A folk song about a woman who had an affair with some devil (also known as The Demon Lover), is later persuaded by him to leave her husband and child and then drowns at sea when he deliberately sinks their ship. Not that I think any of this applies to Sibylla, but atmospherically I think Francis, who is not currently certain of his past, would find it fittingly painful. 3) Don't @ me I couldn't find a transcript of the lyrics and my French isn't good enough to know that it fits exactly, but it sounds good for the kind of crooner FRC was, for the soundtrack to Sibylla's past in France, and obviously La Manche is the French name for the English Channel. 4) A sacred harp song re-introduced to the UK by the Watersons, it's just a great mourning song. 5) If the lyrics to this seem unfair to Francis, Sibylla and FRC, or even overly kind on Gavin, then just think about how much misunderstanding there is between everyone, how much distrust there is and how much isn't being said that needs to be said at this point of the story. 6) Ok, this is one modern folk song I allowed myself because I thought it fitted Francis' fears of what he is to Sibylla so well. Plus imagine the way this could be interpreted from Sibylla's pov, knowing who the words are actually referring to: 'Your father says you're not his own nor any child of man's, / But I think you have your father's smile, your father's gentle hands, / And I pray that you will love me like your father used to do, / So hush awhile, my darling, so I might know it's you.' 7) It's really more of a GoK song, but that's emblemetic enough of the tangled Crawford relationships anyway: 'As I came in by Fiddich side on a May morning / Auchindoon was in a blaze an hour before the dawning / Crawing, crawing, for all your crowse crawing / You've burnt your crops and tint your wings / An hour before the dawning.' 8) Drowned lover appears to woman in a dream. Another great angsty ballad. 9) Perhaps on the surface more of a 'Richard about Francis' song, but given the reference to the hand at the bridle when Francis suddenly realises his brother's not dead, it might also be a bit about Francis' idea of Richard when he was young. Plus 'So far / aross a wild and windy sea / So far / That our voices are / Divided by an ocean / An ocean.' 10) Again, technically written as a song for a lover, but I think it still fits Francis' feelings about home and family and his difficult relationship with Scotland and Midculter. 11) Bit on the nose? Mm. 'Richard got married to a figure skater And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator And he drinks at home now most nights with the TV on And all the house lights left up bright. I'm gonna blow this damn candle out I don't want nobody comin' over to my table I got nothing to talk to anybody about All good dreamers pass this way someday Hidin' behind bottles in dark cafés Dark cafés, only a dark cocoon Before I get my gorgeous wings and fly away Only a phase, these dark café days.' 12) It's another banging mourning song from the canon of twentieth century folk revival! 13) The story is of a convict washing up from a shipwreck and being pardoned - you'd imagine Francis would see himself in it to an extent, while also thinking he deserves neither life nor pardon. 14) Another slight anachronism, because Katherine mentioned another recent version (by False Lights), and this is the arrangement that inspired that one. The song, however, is a Tennyson poem, and it had been set to choral music before, so it would sort of be known to Francis. 15) Again, big French crooner from Sibylla's glamour days, imagine her recuperating with this playing in the background as Francis steps into the room to see she's alive, while thinking Richard isn't...

[wsl-chelsea]

WICC is just trying to take some of the success that Sam is currently having and shine that light on Alex, by comparing them in this post. It’s rude and quite clearly meant to annoy fans. I guess to Americans, it doesn’t matter if Australias best player, arguably the best striker and one of the absolute best players in the world right now, is asleep for one year or having one of the best seasons of her career (which is saying a lot), at the end of it they still ask ”who is better she or Alex Morgan?”. They’ll do they same thing in 10 years for whoever is the best then and Morgan is retired.

It’s insulting, there is no contest. Honestly not with Miedema either, not if you look at stats and actual awards this year. Sam won the golden boot six goals ahead of Miedema, she just won the FWA player of the year, soon she’ll get the Barclays player of the year. A few months ago she was voted third and second for Ballon d’Or/The Best. She just scored two goals in the FA-cup final after scoring two mind blowing goals in the final league game of the season, season saving goals in many games, to go with her two goals in the last FA cup final.

Comparing her to Alex, who isn’t at the level she used to, just started actually playing for a club and scored a few goals (great for her), the season is only 3 matches in so far, is not the great compliment to Alex that they think. It’s so obviously biased and a way of downplaying Sam’s achievements. They don’t have to compare Alex to Sam for Alex to stay relevant, just let her play speak for herself. They can be delusional all they want I suppose but when half the answers thinks they’re kidding even asking the question, that’s maybe something to think about.

100% say it louder!!

[clareguilty]

Arthur Morgan/reader, desperate sex

Here is my second fic for kinktober! The next should be up on Wdnesday <3

Arthur Morgan/fem!reader | desperate sex, dominant Arthur Mentions of death and injury, mild angst. I made the cowboy cry. Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2000

“Who goes there?” a gruff voice demanded as you rode up the trail to camp.

“It’s just me, Bill,” you called back, tipping your tattered hat.

“What the hell?!” He blinked and rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. “You’re alive?”

You grinned, opening your arms wide. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He watched dumbfounded as you rode the rest of the way up to Horseshoe Overlook. You had been gone more than a few days, and your worst fear was that the gang would have packed up and left. The job had gone terribly -- so terribly you had been stranded and lost with no way back -- which was a good reason for the gang to move on to somewhere where the law didn’t know their faces.

But everything was exactly the same. People milled about, scrubbing or packing or chopping. Dutch’s gramophone played on, louder than a dynamite blast and seemingly never ending.

“What in god’s name?” Hosea took one look at you, bruised and battered and covered in every inch of wilderness you had hiked through trying to get back to camp.

“Glad to see y’all are still here.” You groaned in pain as you slid out of the saddle, smacking your ‘borrowed’ horse on the rump and pointing her back to the road. “Go on, girl. Find your way back home.”

The horse slowly headed back the way it came. Hosea was staring at you.

“I know,” you frowned. “I look terrible.”

“No,” Hosea waved his hand, shaking his head. “It’s not that -- though you do look like shit. We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

It was your turn to look taken aback. “Dead? You gave up on me that quick?”

“Sweetheart.” He gripped your arm as if he was still trying to convince himself you were real. “You fell off a bridge. Those rapids… the rocks…” he trailed off.

You grimaced. “It certainly wasn’t my best performance.”

“There wasn’t any time to go back and look for you, but we weren’t even sure we would have found a body.” He looked ashamed. “We failed you.”

“No,” you took his hands in yours, squeezing. “You did what you had to do. I couldn’t bear it if you had lost someone trying to come back for me.”

Sean was walking by, bottle in hand. He did a double take when he saw you standing there, glanced at his bottle, and then back at you. “You mean Dutch gave that long fancy speech for nothing? You had better not die again.”

You laughed and shot him a wink. “I don’t plan on it.”

Sean seemed satisfied with that response. “Your man’s been a right mess since we lost you. Hopefully he quits moping around all the time now.”

“Arthur?” you glanced around. “Is he alright? Where is he?”

Sean shrugged. “Probably the same place he’s been for a week now.”

You turned to Hosea, desperate. “Where?”

“He’s been at his wagon mostly. I didn’t want him going out in the state he’s been in.”

His words only made you more worried. You had finally made it back to camp. All you had been able to think about -- the only thing on your mind as you clawed your way out that ravine and stumbled through the woods -- was that you had to get back to him. You couldn’t leave him. “Is he hurt? Did something happen?”

Hosea didn’t get the chance to answer. Whispers of your arrival back at camp must have spread fast, because Mary-Beth was dragging Arthur by the arm to where you and Hosea were standing.

“Arthur.” You were running -- as fast as you could move with all your injuries and exhaustion. He finally saw you, freezing in place and staring in disbelief.

You slammed into his chest, flinging your arms around him.

He hesitated before returning your embrace, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. The two of you stood there for a long while as you sniffled into his chest. Arthur held you tightly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a familiar booming voice rang out. “Glad to see you alive and well, dear.” You didn’t even turn to look at Dutch. Not when Arthur was clinging to you.

The ground disappeared beneath your feet and you found yourself hoisted over Arthur’s shoulder. The crowd that had gathered around the two of you dispersed as he stalked across camp. The world flipped right side up again as Arthur sat you on his horse, swinging into the saddle behind you and taking off at a full gallop.

You made it to Valentine in record time. The ride was harsh and agitated your injuries, but you didn’t mind with Arthur at your back. He helped you down to the ground and practically carried you inside the hotel, slamming the door open. “A room for me and my wife, please,” he demanded.

The hotel clerk handed over the key. You clung to Arthur the whole way up the stairs, nuzzling against him and just glad to be near him again.

The lock clicked behind you and Arthur… changed. His embrace became more insistent. His eyes darkened. The edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees and Arthur laid you down. It was gentle, but he pressed you into the bed, climbing over you. “Where are you hurt?” he asked.

“It’s not too bad-” you tried to play it off.

He cut you off. “Where. Are. You. Hurt.”

It was terrifying, but thrilling. You shivered under his intense gaze. “My hip,” you grabbed one of his hands and gently lay his palm over your hip. “Makes walking and riding hard.”

He nodded. Clearly waiting for you to continue. “My back is pretty messed up, and my shoulder.”

He noticed the rips and tears in your shirt. All the places you had scraped or torn. His hands went to the buttons, lifting you carefully so he could get you out of the sleeves.

Your trousers were next, slowly pulled down over your hips. When you winced in pain, Arthur stopped to kiss you, cradling your face in his hands.

He stripped you down. His expression was pained as he took in the full extent of your injuries. You had fallen off of the rail bridge and gotten swept into the freezing rapids. The current slammed you into the rocks and swept you down the ravine before you washed up on the bank of the river. From there, it had been a grueling process of making your way out of the ravine and through the woods.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you reassured him. Glancing down, you got a good look at just what he saw. “It does look pretty bad, though,” you frowned.

Arthur’s expression was hard to read. You wondered if he was disgusted by you. It would take a long time to heal, and you knew he might not want to look at you while you were so beat up and battered.

He nearly collapsed on top of you. Luckily, he knew to brace his weight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breaths ragged.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he gasped. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. “I’m still here,” you promised. “Busted and bruised to hell, but I’m not gone yet, honey.”

He kissed his way along his jaw until he found your lips. It was perfect. You had missed him so much, so worried you would never make it back to him. But now you were here in his arms and kissing him. 

“I love you,” you said as soon as you caught your breath.

“I love you so much, darling.” He hovered his hands just above your skin, too scared to touch you.

You placed your hands over his and guided it to where you weren’t scraped or bruised. “Touch  me,” you begged.

He sighed as soon as he felt your skin against his palms, as if he just needed to know you were really there.

“I need you,” you tried to pull him against you, attempting to slot your hips together. “Please, Arthur.”

He hesitated. You could see the desire in his eyes, how badly he needed you, needed to feel you. But he didn’t want to hurt me. You would have to convince him.

“Arthur,” you grabbed the waistband of his pants. “I fell off a bridge and climbed out of a ravine and walked across half the damn state. I want you to fuck me, and I don’t care if it hurts.”

He seemed dazed, but lust clearly won out as you tried to slide your hand under his shirt. He was undressed in seconds, kissing his way over your neck and unable to keep his hands off you.

The pain was bearable, and you were too distracted with the warmth of Arthur’s skin under your hands. You couldn’t get enough of him, so glad to be near to him after all of those cold nights in the wild. 

He was impatient, desperate. He wanted all of you at once, and he didn’t know where to start. Now that you had given permission, he wasn’t afraid to take what he needed. And take he did. He sucked a mark into your collarbone before kissing down to your chest. You gasped as his lips found your breasts, teeth scraping along the skin.

“Please,” you rocked your hips.

He got the message, gently pressing your thighs apart so he could stroke your clit. It felt so good. The stretch when he slipped two fingers inside made you cry out. You sighed and pulled him closer, winding your fingers in his hair as he pulled moans and gasps from your lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “Good girl. I wanna hear you.” He doubled his efforts, determined to make you come around his fingers.

You pulled him up for a searing kiss, biting his lip as you came. “Fuck me,” you breathed.

He was just as needy, cock hard and aching against your hips. He grabbed your less injured leg and hooked it around his hip, dragging his cock against your slit. The teasing was going to drive you mad, but luckily he was just as impatient. He sank into you with one slow motion.

He hissed a curse against your skin, lost in the feeling of you around his cock. “God, darling. Need you so bad.”

He didn’t even try to start slow, setting a quick, frantic pace as soon as he began to move. His fingers dug into the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t mind the pain. It only reminded you that Arthur was there, that you had made it home to him.

You were so close, clinging to each other so desperately. You couldn’t imagine what Arthur had been through the past several days. He had truly believed you were gone, he had been in mourning. While you were focused on not getting eaten by wildlife, he was grieving your death.

It made sense why he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, why he sighed so deeply every time his hips met yours. The way he drank the taste of your lips as if he could never get his fill. You gave him everything you could.

The two of you went three rounds that night, fighting through your exhaustion in a desire to be close to one another. You fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, curled together on the rickety hotel bed.

“I can’t stop seeing it,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off you. “The sight of you falling off that bridge, the way you just disappeared. It’s kept me awake every night.”

You can see it. The dark circles under his eyes, how haggard and underfed he looks. You can only imagine how broken up he must have been.

“Not tonight,” you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You have me here, safe and sound.”

[spacedikut]

omg okay imagine being famous (and dating spence ofc) but then an ex-boyfriend (whom you're still friends with and dated for a long time) writes a song about you and the relationship and it's on the radio 24/7 and SPENCERS JUST SUPER GRUMPY AND HES LOWKEY JEALOUS AND INSECURE AND I JUST OFUEBUWBFOEUBWF my heart.

rereading ur ask makes me realise i diverted from ur ask entirely and im. sorry </3 fluff. 829 words

one day, when spencer comes home, you’re poised on the couch and spencer is terrified. because you look at him, eyes wide, and tell him to sit down because “we need to talk” and when has anything positive followed that?

he sits, satchel still strapped across his body, one shoe missing because he dropped whatever he was doing when he heard the tone in your voice. you hold his hand, make his heart flutter then sink because this is the textbook way a breakup happens and-

“there is currently a song written about me sitting at number 1 in the charts.”

he stares. blinks. moves in closer and narrows his eyes as if he didn’t hear you properly.

“...that’s...that’s it?”

he doesn’t want it to bother him - as much as it pains him, he knows about your ex and knows you no longer have any feelings for him, but...

he forgets about two particular nuisances: derek morgan and emily prentiss.

derek likes having the radio on during drives. spencer doesn’t seek out the song, because why would he, but the voice playing sounds familiar and the lyrics remind him of a certain someone.

the second it registers he’s jerking forward, making the seatbelt lock, and switching the radio station. he does it silently and doesn’t look at derek’s confused face, just sits back in his seat and mumbles: i don’t like that song.

enter: emily prentiss

she smacks a magazine on spencer’s desk and... you’re on the cover. with your ex. there’s a headline about him wanting you back, writing a song about wanting you back, and having that song about wanting you back break records. spencer turns away.

derek notices and reads it and- everything clicks. he lets out a heheheh like some kind of cartoon villain and spencer’s done for. he’s done for because derek and emily share this look and open their mouths at the same time and start saying things like - not the first time you’ve been associated with someone in the tabloids, huh, pretty boy? - well, if my ex wrote me a song... - how does it go again? let me look it up...

and they learn the words quickly, apparently, because every chance they get they sing it and hum it and emily sends him a video of herself playing it on the piano, and spencer grits his teeth and soldiers on. he won’t complain. it’s not your fault and every time it starts playing on the radio, you react before he even thinks about it - when he pouts, you squish his cheeks between your hands and kiss him between words: you kiss mean kiss so kiss much kiss to kiss me

and... how can he be mad at you when you try so hard to make him feel better? any time your ex is mentioned or derek and emily start laughing, you’re doing this thing where you show him you love him, by kissing the back of his hand or wrapping your arms around him or- or simply telling him, and he believes you because you do. and that somehow makes it worse.

then you’re at a bar, looking oh so pretty and spencer can’t stop staring. of course he can’t, because you’re his and he’s yours and every day he feels luckier and luckier. 

until...

“spencer, cover your ears.”

emily prentiss is on the stage, microphone in one hand and wine in the other. she dedicates her performance to you, and begins belting out the lyrics that your ex wrote for you right to your face, in front of your current boyfriend.

the boyfriend that you watch turn into himself like a turtle retreating into it’s shell.

he keeps a straight face, forces a laugh when necessary, but then you’re telling everyone you’re leaving early and pull him outside.

“i love you, spencer reid,” and despite everything, those are the sweetest words and mean the world to him. “a whole lot. a stupid amount. and that song sucks.”

he usually avoids pda, but finds that your body close to his gives him the comfort he needs in that moment. “...the song is pretty good. you don’t need to lie.”

“have i ever lied to you?” you give him this look, with raised brows and a small smile. you know the answer.

“no, you haven’t.”

“do you think i should start now?”

“please don’t.”

“alright,” you wrap an arm around his waist. “the song sucks, and i love you. the song sucks, and i love you. do you hear me? the song sucks, and i-”

his laugh cuts you off. you join him, laughing into the night sky but hoping he understands your sincerity. he does. he’s good like that.

“the song sucks,” he repeats. quietly, timidly.

you hum.

“and i love you.” louder, more sure.

you grin.

this time, when you get into the uber and the goddamn song plays, you look at each other and laugh. 

[boldlyvoid]

Knock Out

Pairing: Landlord!Derek x tenant!Reader

Summary: Derek has the worst timing when it comes to the beautiful woman who's renting one of his homes.

Warnings: walking in on someone naked -- general awkwardness, kissing, sexual inuendos, (always let me know what else I need to tag)

Word count: 800

a/n: for day 3 of @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf cm fanfiction week, Day 3 a fic about a character of colour!

It wasn’t the first time he just walked in.

She was always busy when he did, not hearing his 3 knocks before he used his own keys and entered her apartment to fix something. He was a great landlord, but by god, Derek Morgan had the worst timing.

“Y/N?” She hears him call out, and no answer. He has to fix the showers pull diverter, she hasn’t been able to have anything but baths in the last week.

However, the reason she doesn’t hear him is cause she’s currently in the bath, iPad resting on the toilet seat as she watches a movie and relaxes with a wine in hand. Bubbles faded, tits out, completely visible and now completely on display.

He walks right in, making eye contact with her, both of their eyes wide and wordless. “DEREK?”

“AH!” He screams back covering his eyes, “sorry!” He smacks the doorway on his way out of the room, eyes still closed as he runs off. “I just came to fix the sink!”

“You need to be louder when you show up,” she carefully gets out of the bath and wraps herself in a towel. “This is the 3rd time you’ve seen me naked now, I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

She’s dripping onto the hardwood, towel wrapped around her as she stands in the doorway and waits for his response. Angered that her bath time was disrupted and that he’s still in such shock when he’s seen it all before, unfortunately.

“I’m sorry, believe me, this isn’t how I wanted to see you naked the first time either…”

“Excuse me?”

“I just mean I normally like to take a girl out for dinner and show her a good time before I end up seeing her naked in the bath…”

She’s always thought he was hot, she’s wanted to ask him out to drinks a few times before but never has because it’s always felt wrong. But now, as he stares her down and barely makes a coherent thought as his eyes travel down her body, she’s thinking now is her chance.

“Fix my sink and I’m free for dinner?” She just smirks, dropping the towel and walking back to her room to change.

He's stunned by her bravery, something about how magnificent makes him lose all semblance of confidence. basically turning him into Spencer. He fumbles his words, he trips over his own feet and he stares at her a lot... more like he gawks at her. Mouth slightly ajar every time he gets a glance at her.

She was a total knockout..

He attempts to fix her sink, hearing her singing in her room as she changed and got ready. Her voice filled his ears, her perfume wafted in and filled his nose and his mind was so full of thoughts of her. He takes longer than he thought to fix her sink, letting her have time but also because he's so distracted by her.

He stares in her mirror for a little too long, hyping himself up for this and hoping his classic Derek charm would start to come back.

"Ready to go?”

He turns to see her in a beautiful dress, all done up and stunning. And once again, his mouth hangs open as he looks her up and down. “wow.”

She smirks, laughing to herself as she poses a bit, “thanks. You know, you could just tell me you like me instead of staring?”

He walks into her space and she makes first contact, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looking up at him. His hands land on her hips and he can’t stop looking from her eyes to her lips.

“You’re absolutely stunning, you’re everything,” he can’t verbalize how he feels. “Can I please take you to dinner and show you how you deserve to be treated?”

She nods, “Derek Morgan, you’re just as wonderful, I hope you know that?”

He nods, “if you think so, then I must be.”

"I really do," she leans in, brushing her nose to his before he leans in the rest of the way.

Kissing her was everything he thought it would be and then some. He could swear fireworks went off inside his head, confetti flew out of his ears as his grip tightened and he brought her close to his chest. Deepening the kiss, but she pulls off with a shocked expression, "if you keep kissing me like that we won't make it to dinner."

"Okay," he laughs. "Let's go, beautiful."

He watches her leave, unable to process the fact that he did it. He got the girl of his dreams.

[anothermansjeans]

And All These Little Things

Part 1: Your Laugh

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer finds himself curious about why Y/N seems to cover up her laugh.

warnings: nothing but tooth rotting fluff!

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i don’t think i’ve ever been so excited to post a fic? anyways, i was very impatient and i posted this a day early! i hope you enjoy <3

series masterlist | main masterlist

——————————————————————————

When Hotch first told the team that they would have a new member, Spencer was curious. He was curious as to what assets they would bring in order to make the team already better than it was, but when he saw the said new addition, well, Spencer wasn’t too concerned anymore.

He’s been known to have his IQ drop down to about sixty when it came to beautiful women, but when he watched her walk into the bullpen he knew saying his current IQ being sixty was generous. It took her going to Hotch’s office, finding her new desk and getting situated before Spencer came back down to Earth, but even then he was having some trouble acting the least bit normal.

He watched everyone introduce themselves and when it came his turn, he gave a thin smile, trying his hardest to remain calm, cool, and collected.

She put her hand out in front of him, “hi, I’m Y/N.”

He looked down at it for a moment. He had two choices, either shake her hand (it couldn’t be that bad, right?) or spew his fact about the pathogens passed by hand contact. He wished he wasn’t a germaphobe. It would’ve made life a lot easier, but no. Here he was, in front of a pretty girl, talking about germs rather than taking her hand like anyone else. “The number of pathogens that can be passed by shaking hands is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

If Spencer had been joking, he would describe the look on her face as priceless, and with neither of them talking, Morgan walked up and patted Spencer on the back. “Don’t worry,” he started, “as much as pretty boy would love to kiss a pretty girl like you, he’s the type to take you out first.”

Y/N covered her mouth with the back of her hand and began to laugh. Well, it wasn’t really a laugh. Spencer would define it as a giggle despite the look in her eyes that showed more of a loud, joyous laugh.

He didn’t realize though that it was something she normally did. But during her first case, about two days after she started at the BAU was when he started to notice. He saw the way she covered her mouth again as she laughed at a joke one of the older officers at the precinct they were currently at cracked. From anyone across the room, they’d see a woman being polite to an older man, making it look like she thought the joke was funny, while in reality it wasn’t. But the thing is, it was funny. Spencer even laughed a bit at the joke. Just from looking at her he could tell she was holding back. But for what reason, he didn’t know.

The second time he actively noticed was on the flight home. She had been talking to everyone on the jet, getting to know them better when Penelope called Morgan and told him to “tell the new girl to bring her pretty butt to the bar later”. Of course, Y/N laughed. This time though, it was a little louder than the other times, but it sounded… muffled in a way.

Spencer wished his curiosity wouldn’t get the better of him, but it did. For the entire week after that case he found himself watching her whenever she laughed. Yes, it may seem a bit creepy, but Spencer Reid was a natural curious human, so whenever he heard Morgan or Emily crack a joke, he always looked towards Y/N, seeing if she loosened up at all.

He now found himself sitting at his desk late in the night, finishing up some paperwork. He would’ve thought he was the only one in the bullpen if it hadn’t been for the shuffling of papers coming from Y/N’s desk. Just from hearing what had been going on, he assumed she was getting ready to leave, but when she cleared her throat, it prompted him to look up at her opening a new file.

“How many times am I going to have to put that Morgan busted down a door,” she asked, causing a smile to tug at the corners of Spencer’s mouth.

“You should always assume he did. He seems to have a personal vendetta.”

What Spencer saw and heard next might have been his favorite thing in the world, because Y/N not only laughed at his joke, but she wasn’t covering her mouth like she normally would. He found himself liking her laugh. Scratch that. He loved it. It was a sound of pure joy, full of happiness. Spencer usually found no trouble in finding words for certain situations, but that was before he heard her. If he tried— really tried, he would describe her laugh in the way you smell a fresh flower for the first time in forever. It’s absolutely breathtaking and hits you in the face in the best way possible. And before he could think about it, he asked the one question that’s been on his mind whenever he did see her laugh. “Why do you normally cover your mouth when you laugh?”

Her laughter died down and Y/N’s face resembled one of a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. It wasn’t so much guilt, but it showed how shocked she was that she got caught. Twiddling her pen in her left hand, she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “Oh, uh, I don’t know. I’ve just been told I’m loud when I laugh and I usually don’t like the way it sounds… so, I guess it muffles it a bit.”

Spencer always thought things like the way someone speaks or laughs seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things. It’s hard to say that his way of thinking changed just because of a woman he’s known for about a week, but even if her laugh was something she didn’t like, he actually adored it, and not wanting her think that this small thing about her is bad, he let five quick words slip from his lips. “I actually love your laugh.”

Spencer would’ve cursed himself for being so bold— especially with a woman he hasn’t known for long, but he couldn’t help but smile as he saw her eyes light up.

The blush on her cheeks was prominent as she looked down at the files in front of her. “Thank you. Seriously, it means a lot.”

He continued to look at the rose blush that rested upon her face, accidentally catching her eye as she peeked up. Now, it was his turn to blush.

And normally even with that little moment Spencer and Y/N had shared, he wouldn’t think anything of it. He knows that his luck when it came with women was very minimal.

But then again, he can’t help but notice that the next day at the office when she’s laughing at one of Derek’s jokes, she’s no longer covering her mouth. Now he and anyone in the common area can hear her laugh. The angelic laugh that Spencer loves.

——————————————————————————

permanent tag list: @openheart12 @lucy-268

series tag list: @spencers-dria @dorotheuh @blameitonthenight21 @ssa-m-187

let me know if i missed your tag or you would like to be added (since this is the first part i wasn’t sure who would want to be tagged)!

[writtentypo]

Solving cases with a 5 year old Reid (or atleast trying to)

uhm so I’ve never posted fics here so idk how this goes but uh..enjoy? i think? (this is also on ao3 if anyone wants to read it there) 

-

The case they were currently working on was particularly rough. They managed to figure out the unsub was somehow de-aging their victims back to around the ages of 7 and under. But they didn't have a lot to work with, unfortunately.

So far the profile they had on the unsub was: A white female, most likely with light brown hair, age ranges from 30-40, and has recently lost a child of some sort. 

“Any leads from the latest victim?” Hotch asks while looking over some of the files on the case.

“No, it seems that the unsub not only able de-age their victims but also put them into a childlike state of mind. So we weren’t able to find anything since the victim was about 2-3 years old. But also it seems the only reason the unsub basically disowned them was that they most likely didn't reach their standers. What I mean by that is they weren't the correct age and while the other ones probably died from failed experiments.” Spencer said while scribbling something down on the board.

“Alright then wheels up in 30.” 

After they landed they were able to figure out the unsub's name with DNA they found at the crime scene from the earlier victims they found. But at that point, it was too late. They had noticed that Spencer matched the unsub's victimology almost perfectly and told him to stay behind just in case while they figured out the identity of the unsub. He was a little reluctant too since he still wanted to help but obliged anyway. When they got the information on the unsub, turns out it was one of the pathologists working on the case with them. That was why they kept coming up empty-handed when reviewing the autopsy reports. The unsub, though, was getting sloppy, most likely due to the stress of trying to find another victim and missed a fingerprint that was on one of the victim's glasses.

 Spencer, at the moment, was at the morgue looking over the autopsy that the unsub had just handed to him. He felt a prick on the side of his neck and panicked while turning around, but it was a losing battle and he slowly started to lose consciousness. 

  Spencer woke up strapped to a table blinded folded, with tape over his mouth. Muffling any panicked noises or phrases he could make. He could feel cold air brushing over his bear chest, unable to move. When all of a sudden he heard someone talking to him but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Like he was under water with a massive migraine.

 He quickly started to whimper when he felt a shot of pain go through his arm. Recognizing it as a multitude of needles along it. The fear he felt at the moment made him feel nauseated. And the panic that had started to come to light mere seconds ago was only growing.

 The unsub(?) quietly goes to stroke Spencer's hair and he flinches back and whimpers hopelessly. The unsub continues saying comforting words (or what would be comforting words to someone else perhaps) like “mama’s here” and “it’s okay”.

 Then all of a sudden he hears a loud bang that follows with yelling and even louder gunshots around the room. And his heart rate picks up. He guessed he was most likely disoriented from whatever the hell the unsub had just injected into him. 

Then, like a switch has been flipped, the gunshots and yelling stop and the blindfold and tape are being taken off of him. His breath hitched and then he heard a familiar voice talking to him, but it almost seemed as if the person were trying to talk to a child and not an adult man.

“It’s alright buddy everything's okay now, we’re gonna get you to your mom and dad soon alright?”

Buddy? Mom and dad? What the hell was Morgan talking about? His mom was in the hospital and his dad left and there was no way in hell they were all getting back together any time soon. He soon realized his eyes were closed shut and opened them to see a concerned Morgan hovering over him.

But something wasn’t right, Morgan seemed different, he seemed…bigger? Way bigger.

“Morgan..?

Confusion and slight shock were written all over Morgan’s face when he said that and soon he started to undo the restraints on Spencer's body.

“Morgan, the unsub, they were talking to me. Did you get them? Is everyone alright? Is anybody hurt?” Spencer said hoarsely.

Shortly after Hotch came in with a couple of other cops to clear the scene.

“Hotch!” Spencer's voice cracked and he started to sit up and suddenly realized his pants were far too big for them to be his and his voice too high-pitched and childlike to think that he was the owner of it.

“Spencer?” Hotch said with a shocked/concerned look on his face, surprisingly different from the usually stoic face Hotch usually had.

“Reid what-“

“I’m pretty sure what happened to the other victims is what also happened to baby boy over here.” Derek quickly said after interrupting him.

Suddenly Reid felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him realizing he didn’t only look like he had just turned five, had been talking with the most high-pitched (not really) childlike voice ever but also was half-naked with obviously ill-fitting pants.

Hotch and Spencer stare at each other. The ladder with quickly reddening cheeks. 

Slightly hesitant Hotch starts speaking. “Alright, we’ll have the paramedics look him over for any injuries and talk about this with the rest of the team. Morgan, do you mind giving him your jacket and walking him over?”

“Not at all boss— Ready to go baby boy?”

“Oh uh, sure let’s go,” Spencer says while completely ignoring the fact Morgan had just called him baby boy.

[cowboisadness]

Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}

Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.

Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. I’m mean to Mary i’m sorry. Includes angst, heartbreak and all that painful shit.

—–

Chapter 3 - Severed

I visited Mary a few days later. Not to harm or threaten her. But to talk. Clear up a few things. It was a great idea, I had everything I was going to say planned out. Going over a speech I had made over and over again, both and my head and out loud while I made my way to her current lodgings near Valentine.

How hard could it be?

Knocking on the door and hearing the footsteps getting louder I stood straighter, planted my feet firmly and took in a deep breath.

It was Mary that answered. Everything I had planned to say out of my head like autumn leaves in the wind. She was as beautiful as she was the last I saw her, many years ago. Still as soft-spoken when she said my name in obvious confusion, eyebrows furrowed.

Another deep breath.

“Mary- I- Look - You - “

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, no. Well,”

Another deep breath.

“I know you asked Arthur to help you with something.”

“Yes, I did. What is this about? Is Arthur okay?”

Just speak dammit! What am I doing? What am I doing here? Just spit it out.

“Thing is Mary, I understand you needed someone big and scary that you trust to solve your problems now that your husband has passed. But jumping back in Arthurs life has him hurting again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well- I guess the reason I’m here is to ask that- If you’re not planning on marrying him and actually going through with it this time and accept his life, that we both know he won’t give up, then I must ask for you to leave him well alone. I can’t watch him be confused and in pain again.”

There, I said it. Kinda. Although it was a lot nicer when I rehearsed it a hundred times on the way here.

“It wasn’t my intention to confuse or hurt him in any way. I care about him.”

“So do i.”

She was silent for a few moments, keeping our eyes locked on each other like some sort of standoff until she broke it. Her shoulders relaxing as she gave out a sigh.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“I- Wha-,” I was taken back by her comment, saying the very thing I refuse to. “He’s my best friend. Seeing him suffer breaks me.”

She nodded at that. If she listened would be a different matter. We both cared deeply for the same man, neither of us able to have the life we wanted with him. It was foolish to not admit that he held a special place in both our hearts. And it was foolish to not admit that he was probably completely unaware of the effect he had on both of us. Women from completely different backgrounds and vastly different ways of living with him on a rope, both of us pulling each end. I just hoped that me being here wouldn’t sever my side.

“I wish you well, Mary.”

With that, I turned and mounted my horse. Making my way into Valentine for a few drinks before heading back to camp.

It was night by the time I arrived back. Once drink turning into a few beers and multiple shots. A bloodied fist from punching one of the many drunkards that assumed I was a working girl. Despite wearing pants and without a corset that pushed my tits up below my chin. I don’t know how those girls did it, but I guess if money is needed that is something some women have to do to get by. They had my upmost respect.

I stumbled back in camp, almost everyone retired to their bedrolls or tents. Arthur was on watch for the night and I debated telling him I visited Mary and that she shouldn’t bother him again and that he’s welcome. Hell, she might end up sending him another letter informing him of my little visit herself. Better if it came from me i.

Telling him while drunk probably wasn’t the best thing. He practically oozed rage. Calling me a selfish woman that should keep her nose out of other peoples business. Was it not my business if someone that has my heart is hurting? Isn’t helping each other no matter what it is something we did in this merry but dysfunctional family?

I don’t like to see you being hurt, Arthur. I would say to him.

So you hurt me by messing about with my business and going behind my back? Thinking you know what’s good for me? He would say back.

Or did I cross I line? Did I let my feelings get in the way and stop me from thinking logically? Love is rarely logical. It was when he told me to leave and to not speak to him when I realised. I’m a fucking idiot. My side of the rope was severed.

[coffeecakefanfics]

Song Bird Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

A/n: Hi this is angst, that’s it that’s the tweet

Being a child of Tony is rough, always.  But being a child of Tony while being an avenger? Worse! It wasn’t like he intended his kid to end up being able to scream at a deafening pitch, but I mean you sleep with someone with powers you get a kid with powers.  They dubbed her Song Bird. As much as he didn’t want her to go on missions or even be an actual Avenger the rest of the team fought for it.  She was strong and level headed.  She helped lead a lot of missions but since she was so young she didn’t get to fight much. 

“Come on man I can squat more than that,” she stood next to Steve as he was benching, making fun of him, the usual.

“You’re lucky you’re a kid,” he huffed and struggled with the weight a little.

“Okay grandpa,” she rolled her eyes and helped him rack the weights back up. 

“Hey there’s our song bird, sing for us baby,” Sam called carrying in a box of glasses.

“Come on this again?” she made a face and set the tarp out. 

“Gotta keep that voice in check, punk,” Bucky nudged her and set a window pane up.

“No you guys use me for entertainment,” she huffed and set her stance.

“And this is the trainging roo- what the fuck are you doing with my daughter?” Tony asked.  Peter was by his side, getting an official tour of the compound. 

“keeping her throat in check,” Sam shrugged, “wait no- I mean like her power not that your child is, i’m gonna shut up”

“way to make it weird,” the girl laughed. She took her stance and everyone covered their ears.

“Hey kid hands over ears,” tony nudged Peter. 

With a deep breath she let her scream ring, shattering the window in under 3 second, the glasses in the box joined in the breaking soon after.  She stopped with a huff. Everyone uncovered their ears and clapped. 

“Still got it,” Tony beamed proudly.  His daughter took a bow, the same over confidence that her dad has.

“Dad can I steal my boyfriend for a bit? I want lunch,” she grinned and took Peter by his arm. 

“Fine but I need you two both back here in an hour you have new suits to try on,” he slipped a 20 in her hand and shood them away. 

“She’s a good kid Tony,” Steve perked up.

“Yeah, she is,” Tony beamed with pride at his daughter. 

“Okay so I was thinking of doing a Veridian green dress for prom,” she spoke and took a bite of pizza. 

“Do you have your dress yet?” Peter beamed at her words. 

“Duh,” She laughed, “But you can’t see it till prom night, got it,” she winked.

“Come on, I love seeing you in pretty dresses, and it’s prom.  The anticipation is killing me,” he complained and sipped his soda.

“Hey don’t complain to me, You’re the one that said you wanted a surprise, Bucky and Nat helped me get it and your tie so we’re all set,” she grinned and took another bite.

“And shoes?” he followed her in taking a bite. 

“Wanda and I are shopping for the shoes and jewelry this weekend, and we’re going to get our nails done too,” she kind of laughed. She let her eyes scan Peter, the kid she’d been in love with for two years, the kid she loves, and it dating, the kid she wants to marry.

“I can’t wait to see how you look, May wants pictures,” he covered his mouth.

“Duh, of course we’re taking pictures with her. Which are we still doing dinner friday?”

“Yeah, she’s making your favorite”

“How sweet,” she smiled.

“I swear she loves you more than me,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Of course she does, look at me,” she joked and they laughed. 

The two kids sat in front of their new suits.  Peters was stunning to say the least but hers? hers was perfect.  

“Okay so Peter try yours on and Bruce will give you the instructions on yours,” Tony sent peter away.  “Now you my song bird, your suit is special.  It’s lightweight and flexible and it’s secret? it amplifies your sound and gives everyone else suit a warning when you use your power, theirs all have noise cancelation built in so they wont have to cover their ears anymore,” she grins at his daughter. Her eyes were welled up with tears as she stroked the black and silver fabric on her body. 

“Thanks dad,” she throws herself around him.  “You’re the best,” she squeezes him.  He holds his breath a second and engulfs his daughter in a hug. 

Missions usually went smoothly with what everyone called “The Triple Threat” recently missions had been, Tony, Peter, and Y/n.  The three worked together so smoothly, like the team was made to work together.  Currently Triple Threat was working a mission, Y/n was supposed to run recon and scope out the building but he she stood on the edge of a roof. 

“No where to run little girl,” one of the men sneered. Y/n peeked down and looked back at the men and saluted before dropping backwards. Arms wrapped tightly around her.

“You’re crazy” Peter shakes his head.

“I knew you’d catch me”

“Hey, care to stop flirting and help,” Tony buts in.

“Sorry dad,” she laughs and lets the wings out of her suit.

“Y/N” It was Pepper. 

“Coming,” she took a deep breath and started down the stairs.  She smiled brightly when the faces of the avengers came to view at the bottom of the stairs.  Her dad held Pepper tightly as she held a baby Morgan in her arms.  Standing in front of the group was Peter, Holding a corsage in a little case with a dumb smile on his face.  The green dress fit her like a glove and held her in the right places.  She was stunning, and song bird was all his. 

“You look. . . wow” he smiled, breathless.

“Thank you peter, you look handsome,” she smiled back.  She took the boutonniere and pinned it to his suit jack and he slipped the corsage onto her wrist. Tony looked at Pepper then back to his daughter and smiled, proud.

“Alright you two, Be home at 11, and don’t get pregnant,” Tony clapped his hands.

“Dad!” Y/n shot him a shocked look.

“I’m teasing, but seriously have fun and be home at 11″

“yes, and Peter, I left some money in your wallet,” May smiled and straightened his tie.

“Bye Mr. Stark”

“Bye Dad, Bye Mom, Love you all”

Tony watched the door close with tears in his eyes. Pepper set her hand on his shoulder.  He smiled and held Morgan.

“Ready to do it all over again?” she joked

“No, never” he kissed his baby girls forehead.

“Peter?!” she called scanning through the ruble of the building. 

“Y/N!” Tony’s voice caught her attention.

“Dad!” she ran and helped him up. He engulfed her in a hug. 

“Oh my sweet girl,” he kissed her forehead,” Where’s Peter?”

“We got seperated when the building collapsed, I haven’t found him yet,” tears streamed down her face. 

“Easy, We’ll find him, take the east wing i’ll take west”

They split off and Y/n continued to call for him. 

“Y/n?” he was trapped under one of the cars from the parking garage. 

“Peter, hold on we’ll get you out,” you scanned the room before getting on the radio. 

“Recon, come in,”

static. no answer. 

“Okay Peter, baby listen to me closely.  I’m going to use my power, and you push okay?” he nodded and started to push the car.  She let out a scream and the car started to budge.

“It’s working please,” he begged and she screamed louder. The car shifted and Peter pulled himself free. Cracking surrounded them. Y/n peeked at the remaining walls.  Cracks in the concrete were rapidly spreading, threatening to collapse. 

“Peter go!” She grabbed him and did her best to help carry him out. He shot his webs and managed to get them out, with a couple scrapes and bumps, but safe. 

“There you two are” Tony hugged the kids.

Y/n sat next to Tony on the Jet, scrolling on her phone. 

“Y/n?” her dad looked down at her.

“Yeah dad?” she peeked up at him.

“Promise you won’t leave me, won’t do something stupid to take your life” She locked her phone and leaned into him.

“I promise dad” she closed her eyes and felt like drifting off.  He wrapped his arm around his baby, his daughter, his first. 

Thanos had taken everything from them.  The fight was brutal, everyone was covered in wounds, sweat, and dirt. Y/n was caught in the middle, of it all.  Peter had ahold of the gauntlet when he landed but blast after blast forced him to cover his head. 

“Pete” she called and raced to his aid, but a blast sent her flying. She crawled her way to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked

“Are you?” she scanned his face.

“yeah yeah, I’m fine,” he held her face.

“Peter, I love you,” she leaned in and kissed him. She turned to a bright light.  Her face lit up. “Took her long enough”

Carol landed in front of the young couple.  Peter sat clutching the gauntlet.

“Hi I’m peter parker”

“Hey peter parker, got something for me?”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get through all of that” he looked at the battle ahead. 

“Don’t worry she’s got help” 

The heading back in.  

The gauntlet sat on the ground as Thanos knocked back fighter after fighter.  Tony stepped up to grab the gauntlet. 

“Dad!” Y/n tried to get to her dad.  Thanos shoved Tony back and Y/n caught him. 

“I, am inevitable,” Thanos said and snapped.  Everyone stood by as nothing happened. 

“And I, am Song Bird,” Y/n struggled and snapped herself.  Fighters began disappearing. One by one. Tony watched as Thanos finally turned to dust before turning back to his daughter. 

“You stupid fucking kid!,” he scooped her up in his arms “It was supposed to be me, I lived my life!” he yelled at her. 

She shook her head weakly. “Morgan, and everyone here. . .  need you” she was struggling to breath. 

“Y/n?”  Peter dropped beside her 

“You promised!” A hot tear fell on her face. She smiled up at her dad. 

“But I saved you, you deserve, so much more from this life dad” she choked

“Y/n” peter held her face.

“Hi baby,” she smiled at him.

“You’re gonna be okay? hear me, you’re gonna be fine”

“Baby listen,” she reached up to him. “You are the Amazing Spiderman you hear, you are going to do great things in this life and i’m. . .  so proud of you,” she choked again “I love you, forver,” she felt her eyes drifting closed. 

“Tell morgan, that I love her, and that the third drawer is something for her,” she smiled one last time. Her body went slack. 

“Y/n?, come on baby talk to me,” peter begged and screamed, Tony wasn’t holding back any tears anymore.

Tony dusted the picture of Y/n in her suit posed with him.  He smiled solemnly. 

“Do you miss her?”

“everyday, but I have to remember to live for her,” Tony turned and hugged Peter who started crying.  Even after a month it still felt so fresh, to everyone.  Windows got covered, glasses were replaced with plastic, but the biggest reminder of Song Bird is her suit, sat in the living room in a case, on proud display.  

‘Song Bird, The loudest heart’ 

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark, pt. 3

Part 1, Part 2

a/n: I believe this is called a slow burn. Sorry to keep you waiting, it wasn’t intentional. I just keep getting pulled in to all the details and the thing grows. It’ll wrap up in the part after this one. Enjoy :) ~2.5k

i thought i’d ride all the same roads and skies for mercy’s sake, would you look at your life

No matter how drawn out, how difficult a case was, there was a routine to their return flights. Everyone boarded and retreated to their favorite place. Especially if the case ended poorly, people needed time to themselves to decompress. The jet wasn’t all that large but it had enough seats for them to spread out if they needed to. Creatures of habit, they often ended up picking the same spots each time, drawing peace from the standard arrangement. This trip however Morgan managed to sprain his ankle while chasing the unsub and Reid graciously gave him the couch where he would normally curl up so Morgan could elevate and ice his ankle. As an alternative he picked a seat next to the window and jumped when Hotch appeared next to him. They exchanged a quick look, Hotch silently checking that it was okay for him to take the neighboring seat. It was a new behavior, he never would have given sitting next to Spencer a second thought before. But now, there were too many exposed edges, too much risk of rogue electric currents to simply slip down beside each other like they might have in the past.

Spencer looked at him, eyes glazed with exhaustion. Confused, he didn’t recognize that Hotch’s hesitation was due to a question of his comfort. When it clicked he nodded quickly, waving his hand in manner that was meant to be an invitation but was a little too abrupt not to appear frantic. He hated how clearly his nerves showed sometimes and made an effort not to fidget as Hotch settled beside him. He tried to study Hotch’s face from the corner of his eye, jealous of the way he was always able to remain so impassive. He knew this wasn’t just a lack of feeling but rather a controlled effort, something that he put on each day same as his suits and gun holsters. Right now he was wishing he could read the other man’s thoughts. Hotch noticed him watching and quirked up the corner of his mouth in a small smile. Perplexed, Spencer sat back into the seat, wanting to pull his long legs up to his chest but there simply wasn’t the room for it. Instead he hugged his arms around his torso, letting the soft pressure try to calm his racing heart. He’d been on edge since that afternoon. Since he’d slipped.

*

The first time he had used the name Aaron it had felt strange, like a stone rolling around in his mouth. It had started not long after their late night calls had become a regular thing. He could tell it was something consequential but he couldn’t completely comprehend the dimensions of it. He was shy to call the other man by his first name. But Aaron had encouraged it, finding he enjoyed hearing this different shading of his name.

Too often in his life he’d heard that name inflected with anger, with disgust. He’d learned to hate it, to pull his shields in tighter whenever someone used it. Haley had made a difference, infusing his name with the love he had deserved and been denied. Over many years of careful diligence she had managed to loosen the strangled way his mind had tied his name to his failures, his ever present self-loathing. Now with her gone he’d had no problem rejoining the two. He’d never blame her but their parting words, the anger she’d been too fed up to hide had poured into her voice, into that which she’d worked so hard to rehabilitate. The last time he’d heard her say his name he knew he’d lost her and that it had been his own fault.

Since then he’d been only Hotch. He liked it that way. Hotch was strong and capable and didn’t let people down. Occasionally Dave would call him Aaron and he would press his mouth together and accept whatever advice he was about to receive. He didn’t particularly enjoy it but it was a good indicator of Dave’s state of mind so he let that be the relevant information and ignored the feelings it caused to swirl around, a vortex threatening to pull him under.

But when Spencer said it, at first with hesitation but increasingly more confidence, he felt an entirely new emotion. The syllables ran along the same nerve endings that lit up his spine and constricted his lungs whenever he looked at Spencer. It was a feeling that only grew as they became closer, as more of the barriers between them dissolved. When Spencer called him Aaron it sounded like hope.

Which was all well and good at midnight, on the phone or in the too bright lights of an empty diner. In that liminal world it was only natural for them to use softer words for one another. But they had continued to confine those developments to the spaces outside the office, outside the team. Neither would consider it a secret but it remained unspoken, perhaps because they were both too afraid of breaking the spell. They were careful to keep things as they had always been when they were in front of the others. Spencer remained Reid and Aaron was never anyone but Hotch.

Until earlier that afternoon, worn down by the action of the field, the adrenaline of the take down fading away, Reid had made a mistake. It had been small, likely no one had noticed, no one had even been paying attention when, needing the other man’s opinion on which file some forms belonged to, he had called to him.

“Hey, Aaron.”

He hadn’t realized what he’d done until he saw the line of Hotch’s shoulders become rigid beneath his suit jacket. Hotch stiffly turned away from Rossi and Morgan—they’d been reviewing the plan for getting everyone packed up and on the jet headed home as soon as possible. Without a word Hotch raised an eyebrow at Reid, who, mortified, had entirely forgotten what his question had been.

“Reid?” he prompted.

Spencer blinked quickly, looking at the papers in his hands. “Nevermind,” he muttered. When he glanced up again Hotch was still looking at him, his expression unreadable. It made Spencer nervous. Hotch turned and rejoined the conversation with the other two, settling an argument about who would drive who where before it became too heated. Spencer stayed quiet the rest of the time they were at the precinct. Stuck in his mind, he repeated the moment over and over, telling himself this was probably it. This was the moment where he broke things, the moment he showed he wasn’t able to handle himself the way he should. He became convinced that Hotch was mad at him, that he had somehow betrayed his confidence. He became convinced he would never be forgiven.

By the time he sat himself next to the window on the jet, staring out into the inky darkness, he was resigned to having lost. He expected, if he was brave enough to try, that the door they had opened between them would now be locked, that any calls would go unanswered. All because he had been a little careless, had inadvertently shared something they had wordlessly agreed was private. So he was startled when Hotch moved to sit next to him. With that small smile the man had all but short circuited the wires in Spencer’s brain. He didn’t know what to make of it, though history told him not to hope for too much. Everyone reached their limit with him, it was only a matter of time.

They were quiet through take off, as people settled into whatever distraction they could. Then, so quietly it barely crossed the threshold of his awareness, Hotch heard Spencer say something. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, only a little louder, afraid that even this would be unwelcome.

He leaned back and studied Spencer’s defeated expression, the way he was avoiding eye contact. He should have noticed before, should have known how an instant could get replayed by that perfect memory, morphing into something far more than it needed to be. Hoping he wasn’t too late to counteract the powerful force of self-doubt, he said, “It’s okay, Spencer.”

Spencer might have needed more reassurance; after all, he’d spent the last few hours telling himself that he’d irreparably fucked things up. But the way his name sounded coming out of Aaron’s mouth was all the assurance he needed. He sighed, relief tingling warmly through his fingertips. The tension that had kept his breaths shallow, his mind locked in a tight spiral, finally drained away and the disparaging thoughts became the words he’d been given, repeating gently like the waves on a lake shore. It’s ok, Spencer, it’s ok.

The air between them now calm, Hotch returned to his work. Spencer tried to make himself comfortable, shifting until he’d wedged himself satisfyingly into the corner of the seat and the wall. He craved the security of having the solid world pressing against him. The couch was ideal for this, the seats less so, but he made it work. Idly he watched Hotch working on paperwork. He was mesmerized by his hands; how he scratched words onto the page, sometimes signing quickly, hand moving sharply like the readout of a heart monitor. Before long Spencer’s eyelids grew heavy and he didn’t resist as he was pulled in by sleep.

Hotch wasn’t sure what time it was, not bothered enough to pull out his phone to check. He knew it was late and he was fairly confident they were somewhere over Texas. He rubbed his eyes then flipped through the remaining forms. They were all standard documentation, things he could probably do in his sleep. Which was good since he wasn’t all that focused. Like Spencer, his mind kept returning to that moment earlier. He didn’t want Spencer to feel bad, that certainly wouldn’t be fair. But it had drawn his attention to an issue he had been avoiding.

What was between them had been going on for months now. It hadn’t crossed into anything physical, anything overt. But he was an intelligent person, he knew where this was going. He’d allowed himself the briefest of thoughts, imagining what it might be like to touch another person again. He wanted to find out. But that meant they needed to decide how they wanted to handle this. He knew he didn’t want to live a secret life. Spencer didn’t belong lumped in with everything else he kept hidden. That would likely only lead somewhere disastrous. No, if they were going to do it, he wanted to go at it full measure. That thought warmed his heart a little, color rising to his cheeks. However, a pleasant feeling didn’t change the complexities. What would it mean for the team, for their families? It was so much easier not to involve anyone else.

As Hotch wrestled with his thoughts, Spencer’s hands started to twitch. He let out a small whimper as his face twisted, something in his dreams frightening him. Without thinking, Hotch reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing softly as he made quiet calming noises. Spencer froze before relaxing, his face becoming slack as the dream passed and left him with only the white noise of deep sleep. Hotch rubbed his thumb across the back of Spencer’s hand, the skin pale and smooth. It looked so small in his own hand, delicate, fragile even. He looked up only to meet Rossi’s gaze, questioning him from an opposing corner. He felt the heat return to his face but he didn’t let go, only shrugged and returned to his paperwork. If he could do it in his sleep he could do it with one hand just as well he supposed. He’d made his choice and he intended to hold on to it.

*

Dave caught up to him as they walked through the parking garage.

“Hey,” he hissed, placing a hand on Hotch’s shoulder to slow him down.

Hotch stopped abruptly. Anyone who didn’t know him as well as Dave did wouldn’t have realized how the quick reflexes, the instant change in trajectory was only a cover. How it was all his awareness traveling quickly through his muscles to stop the revealing flinch, the instinct to draw into himself and become a smaller target. Immobility was the only way to prevent that reaction from getting out. He’d perfected it over the years, one of dozens of ways he hid in plain sight. Now it seemed more imposing than anything else, to suddenly have the full, none too pleased attention of a six foot plus giant.

Normally Dave wouldn’t have done that, startled him with a touch from outside his field of vision. But Dave had questions and he wasn’t entirely pleased with having to ask these questions. Hotch turned his head to watch Dave come around and block his path to the elevators.

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” Hotch asked icily. He was tired and he just wanted to be home, away from people, away from questions. There was so much interaction when they went into the field. Never a moment to himself to think, to reset. He always had to be on when they were working a case, and though he was able to do it, once it was over all he could think of was shutting out the world completely.

“You know what I’m talking about, Aaron.”

Hotch flinched at his name, not expecting it to be used as a weapon, not prepared to have that moment thrown in his face so soon. Dave looked at him expectantly.  

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Dave was incredulous, trying to keep his volume down it came out sounding strangled.

Hotch glared at him for several seconds before relenting. He looked down at his feet, feeling fatigue pulling him into the ground.

“I do. Please, Dave.” He looked up and he was begging Rossi to understand, to see that this was something good, something special.

Rossi was skeptical but couldn’t deny he was moved by the look in Hotch’s eyes. He hadn’t looked so alive in a long time, like there was something he wanted, something he was willing to fight for. Eventually Rossi relented. Who was he to judge anyone for their choices in a partner?

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said gruffly but it was all an act. Honestly he’d accept anything that made Aaron happy, anything that kept him with them a little longer. This wasn’t hurting anyone. If those two idiots wanted go down this road, it was none of his business. He’d done his due diligence and Hotch could make his own decisions. He hoped for everyone’s sake it was worth it.

~Part 4~

[sunnydaisy1]

Flights Delayed

SAM WILSON X READER

A/N: why is this not my life??? I love Sam and this beautiful human being who sent in this request. I loved it and couldn’t wait to post this piece. Hope you like it :)

REQUEST: I saw your call for Sam Wilson requests on your arts and crafts fic, which was excellent by the way, and I thought I might send one in! How about reader as an avenger who either can’t make it home for Christmas, or doesn’t have a home to go to. And Sam stays with them at the compound and they stay up watching Christmas movies, until reader falls asleep on his shoulder. I’m a sucker for some Christmas fluff! ❣️🎄🎁 - Anon

You thanked Happy as you climbed out the car, pulling out your suitcase and shutting the door. You giddely walked towards the airport entrance, finding the right area for Terminal 2. This Christmas you were staying with your family for the first time in 2 years. You couldn't wait to arrive home and feel the familiar comfort of your childhood home and forget about the stress and panic of the world for a few days. Soon, you found the waiting area for flight 227 and sat down amongst many awaiting adults, eager to go home to see their families. You checked the flight board, smiling at the green notices saying all flights were on time and that yours left in 35 minutes. Pulling out your phone from your puffer jacket, you noticed that you had a notification from the groupchat you shared with Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky called SPYKIDS. Sam: hope your flight is good y/n, have a nice christmas x Steve: gonna miss you at the compound :) Nat: enjoy the break lovely xx Bucky: Sam is waiting for you to reply Y/N i can see him checking his phone every 30 seconds. Sam: am not Steve: liar Sam: shut up Bucky: dont be rude sammy Sam: I hate it when you call me that and you know it 😑 Nat: not when y/n says it you don't Steve: ....exposed ☕ Sam: wish id never said anything now 🤦‍ Nat: hehe You chuckled and sent back a text Y/N: thanks guys haha, have a lovely christmas sammy x You clicked on spotify and opened some music up, putting in your headphones to pass the time. Around 10 minutes later you noticed a lot of people were starting to talk louder and there was a bit of commotion. You turned round to see where everyone was looking and your heart dropped. Snow. It was fricking snowing outside. Normally you would have been ecstatic at the sight of snow at Christmas, but right now it only meant one thing. Delayed flights. You glanced up at the flight board and saw only one flight had been delayed. Crossing your fingers and praying to any power there may be, you sat down in your chair and searched the weather on your phone. Just 10 minutes later, the airport was chaos central. Almost all flights had been delayed and the frustration of tired people was rising. You had been flicking between the glass windows which looked out over the runways and showed you the increasing precipitation to the flight board. Your flight hadn't been classified as delayed yet and you could sense everyone around you was waiting with baited breath at whether it would change to delayed. You shifted in your seat and watched with utter sadness and irritation as the letters next to your flight number switched to state DELAYED. You groaned alongside the other awaiting passengers, just hoping for a miracle so the snow would clear up soon. This frustration unfortunately didn't fade away and as the minutes passed by, you felt a christmas surrounded by family slowly drifiting away. The snow was falling heavier now and you dreaded looking at the flight board, knowing the glaring orange letters would not ease the tension in the atmosphere. You glanced down at your phone, seeing it had been over an hour since your flight was meant to have left. A sudden speaker crackled and everyone looked up in hope, "We thank everyone for waiting patiently for information on their flights. Unfortunately, the snow has not cleared and the runways are becoming increasingly dangerous. It is expected that their condition will not improve so we must regrettably inform you that all flights scheduled for today have been cancelled. Our staff will be happy to help you find temporary accommodation and we will continue to update you on flight statuses. Thankyou." At once, the airport exploded into an uproar and angry passengers stormed towards the information desks. Your heart sunk as the flight board wiped out to display all cancellations. How were you meant to arrive home in time for Christmas now? You didn't want to spend christmas eve at an airport. Tears threatened to fall from your blurry eyes as your perfect christmas slipped away. You sniffled a little and unlocked your phone, deciding that texting your mum was best. You explained the situation and you got an instant reply, stating she was incredibly sorry and that they would all miss you tomorrow. You arranged with her to fly home on the 27th so you could still spend some of the holiday with your family. Sitting back in your seat, you looked around at the mania of tired passengers and wondered what you were going to do now. You had no clue if anyone was even staying at the compound over Christmas. Racking your brain for someone to call, you decided Tony would be the best as he would know everyone's wearabouts. He picked up after the second ring: 'Hey kid, everything okay?' he asked, concern in his voice. 'Urh no not really, all flights today have been cancelled and I don't know where to go.' You replied, trying not to burst into tears. 'Oh Y/N im so sorry. I can get someone to pick you up and drive you to ours if you want, I'm sure Morgan and Pepper would love to spend Christmas with you.' You sighed at Tony's kindness but the least you wanted to do was intrude on their private time and plus, the drive would take at least 8 hours in this weather now. 'That's really sweet but the roads are jammed Tony. Is anyone staying at the compound?' 'Yeah, Sam is currently there now and Steve and Bucky are going over tomorrow.' Tony replied and you sighed in relief. 'Okay thanks, I think I'll stay there with them.' 'Okay kiddo, call me if there's anything you need.' 'Will do, merry christmas Tony." "Merry Christmas y/n." You hung up on Tony and searched for Sam's contact, clicking on it and hearing it ring a few times before his gravelly voice came through. "Y/N i thought your flight had left?" He asked and you rubbed your forehead, a headache weeding itself into your brain, "Uh no, all flights have been cancelled because of the snow." At once, you heard Sam get up and his voice fill with concern, "Love I'm so sorry, I'm coming to pick you up now." You nod and sniffle, "Okay, thanks Sammy." "No worries, I'll be there as soon as I can."He replied. You picked your stuff up, heading for the terminal exit to wait in the pick up area. You sunk down into one of the padded seats, closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall. God you hoped Sam would arrive soon. Sam walked into the pick up waiting room, scanning the huge crowd for your familiar body. He weaved in and out of people until he spotted your defeated frame, slumped in a chair. His heart sunk at your sniffling and tear-stained cheeks. "Oh love I'm here." He said as he squatted down in front of you. You opened your eyes to see his face, brows furrowed. "Sorry for being a pain." Your hoarse voice croaked out. "Nonsense. Let's get you home." Sam replied, wrapping an arm around you and carrying your bag and suitcase despite your attempts to stop him. You shivered as you exited the building into the nipping air and Sam pulled you closer, heart breaking at your shivering form. He took you over to the car and opened the passenger side, letting you slide in before shutting it and placing your luggage in the back. He climbed into the drivers side and turned the engine on, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his lap and hug you whilst you cried. But, that would cross over the boundary that clearly defined your relationship as 'Just Friends' so he had to make do with holding your hand across the console. After a while, you stopped crying and your body had relaxed into the warmth of the car, easing your throbbing head. You softly spoke to Sam, "Thankyou for coming to get me, I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your Christmas Eve." Sam chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your hand, "Its alright love, driving home a snotty girl definitely wins over watching another of Steve's movies." You laughed slightly, greatful for Sam's attempts to cheer you up. Sam beamed as he glanced at you, "how does me and you and some Christmas movies with a shit ton of food sound to cheer you up?" You smiled and looked at Sam, "that sounds lovely." When you had arrived back at the compound, Sam had told you to go and get showered and change into comfy pyjamas whilst he got some food ready and you couldn't muster the strength to disagree when that sounded perfect. You walked into your room, freshly clad in a pair of warm joggers and an oversized tshirt, feeling a lot more relaxed about the situation, knowing a Christmas spent with 3 of your favourite people would be amazing and that you would see your family very soon. Sam knocked on your door when you were finding a pair of fluffy socks, one of his hoodies in hand. "Thought you might want one of these, I know you steal my hoodies when you think I'm not looking." You felt heat rise to your face, embarassed but taking the hoodie none the less, knowing the cozy fabric and relaxing smell would calm you. "Thanks." You replied, making Sam grin. "Foods ready, where did you want to have it?" He asked, watching you tug the hoodie on. "Oh uh if you don't mind my bed is looking really inviting right now." You replied, tugging on the ends of the hoodie's arms. "Sure thing." Sam winked at you before walking in the direction of the kitchen. Your heart fluttered at the gesture and you shook the thoughts out of your head as you scooted under your bed covers and sat up against one side of the headboard. Not 5 minutes later, Sam returned, quesadillas and popcorn in hand, grinning at your swamped form in the bed. "Oh you're a godsend." You said as he handed you a plate of your favourite food. Sam chuckled and placed the popcorn on the bedside table. "Do you still want me to join you or do you want to be left alone?" He asked considerately and your stomach jumped at how sweet he could be. "No there's room for you, scoot over here Sammy." He grinned and clambered in bed next to you, his own plate of quesadillas resting on the duvet covering his lap. "So what will it be Elf or the Holiday?" You asked Sam, mouth already full of cheesy goodness. "I don't mind." He said, watching you with so much adoration on his face that if Bucky or Nat had seen him they would have shipped him off to a deserted island so they didn't throw up at the sickening love radiating off him. "the Holiday it will be then. I'm in the mood for some Jude Law." You giggled, taking another bite of quesadilla and grinning at Sam. You continued to watch the movie together, finishing your food and somehow migrating towards each other while sharing popcorn, both of you excusing it as needing to be closer to share the bowl. You were gradually growing more tired, struggling to keep your eyes open as the rollercoaster of emotions you had experienced today had wiped the energy out of you. Sam tensed when he felt your head rest on his shoulder but relaxed when he saw your dozey gaze watching the TV. His body filled with warmth at this moment you were sharing and he dared to put an arm around you, pulling you closer to him so your head was now resting on his chest. He feared he had overstepped the boundary but you made no complaint and placed your hand beside your head on his chest. A small smile flickered across your face as you snuggled into Sam, his warmth washing over you and making you even more tired. Sam watched the credits for the movie roll out and was about to speak to you when he noticed your eyes were closed and your breathing had regulated out. His heart flipped at your sleeping form and he brushed the hair out of your face, turning the TV off and moving to get up. Your hand tightened on his sweatshirt though and a soft grumble came from you, "Dont leave." You mumbled, holding onto Sam. He nodded and scooched down in the bed so you were both comfortably laying down, "Night love." He said, stroking your back soothingly, "Night Sammy." You whispered, falling back asleep. You woke up, surprisingly warm and went to stretch when you felt a hard object in your bed. Your eyelids flickered open to reveal a softly sleeping Sam sprawled out onto your bed, your legs entangled. He looked so peaceful asleep, the creases that often littered his face due to worry smoothed out and leaving him looking even more heavenly. You smiled and went to get up, suddenly feeling an arm tighten around your waist and pull you towards Sam. "Where do you think you're going love?" He murmered, voice deep and laced with sleep. Your heart pounded and you looked at Sam who still hadn't bothered to open his eyes. "It's Christmas morning Sammy." You said, laying with his arm draped over your stomach. "Exactly- Buck and Steve won't arrive for another 3 hours yet so we can cuddle for longer." Sam replied, eyes opening to look at you, a smile cheekily spreading onto his face. "What-no-" You started, not understanding Sam's reasoning at all. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on you, moving so he was closer to you as he was lying on his front. "Just shut up and cuddle me." He said, smirking as he already nuzzled into your side more. You gave up, knowing you really didn't want to pass up the free offer to cuddle your favourite avenger for a bit longer. Maybe Christmas without your family wouldn't be so bad after all.

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,119

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.

Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.

It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly. You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.

Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.

You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.

Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.

You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.

You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"

Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.

"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.

Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...

"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"

And that is definitely...

"I-I don't think that's necessary."

You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.

How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.

"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.

She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.

"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."

"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.

You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.

"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.

Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.

"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.

Oh my god. I must be dreaming.

You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.

"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Pinch me."

"What? Why?"

"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"

You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.

"Pinch me. Hard."

Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.

"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This is real. Spencer Reid is real.

You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.

"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.

"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.

"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.

For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.

"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.

"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.

"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"

You frowned to yourself.

"It's possible."

It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.

"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.

"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.

"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.

You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.

You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?

You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.

"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.

Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.

"Is that a sign of head trauma?"

"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."

You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.

Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.

"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.

"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.

"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.

"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."

Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."

The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."

You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.

Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.

"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.

"Sure."

"Is there a lake near by?"

"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."

"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."

You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?

You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?

Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size

"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.

You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.

"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.

Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.

Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.

If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.

Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?

A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.

Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.

"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.

The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.

You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.

"Y/N."

You weakly turned your head.

Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.

He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.

Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.

Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.

"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"

You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.

He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.

Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.

"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.

"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.

"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."

You nodded, weakly.

Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.

"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."

If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.

He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.

A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.

One thought repeated over and over again in your head.

This is real.

You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life. 

Next Chapter

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 8 “hey, hey, this is no time for sleeping”

when you’re old and grumpy 

summary 

“Hey,” whispered Tony, but it went ignored. “Hey.”

The second hey was louder. That didn’t matter. Peter buried his head in the pillow even further, determined not to hear him.

“This is no time for sleeping.”

His comforter got ripped away, and Peter groaned. He had no idea why Tony insisted on being this annoying, at this time in the night, but Peter was one hundred percent sure he’d done nothing to deserve this type of torture.

“Tony, why.”

“It’s snowing.”

OR

Tony wakes his family up in the middle of the night to make snow people, and Peter accidentally takes the polar bear plunge.

“Hey,” whispered Tony, but it went ignored. “Hey.”

The second hey was louder. That didn’t matter. Peter buried his head in the pillow even further, determined not to hear him.

“This is no time for sleeping.”

His comforter got ripped away, and Peter groaned. He had no idea why Tony insisted on being this annoying, at this time in the night, but Peter was one hundred percent sure he’d done nothing to deserve this type of torture.

“Tony, why.”

“It’s snowing.”

Peter craned his head around, and glared at the apparent adult. “Are you five?”

“Are you suddenly an old man?”

Peter frowned. He was being played. Very obviously.

“I’ll call Cap,” said Tony. “See if they can get you a spot at the old folks home.”

“Fine,” said Peter, with a growl. “I’m up.”

He was grumpy about it, but he left his warm, comfortable bed behind in favor of following Tony down the stairs and into the living room. He hadn’t been the only family member victim to Tony’s sudden interest in the snow. Pepper and Morgan were awake, still dressed in their pajamas, with added additions of scarfs, hats, coats, and snow boots.

“What’s happening?” asked Peter, for a split moment, freaking out, thinking something must be wrong even if Pepper was down here, bundled up and ready to go.

“It’s snowing!” Morgan yelled, excitedly. “We’re gonna build snowpeople.”

“It’s 3 in the morning!” said Peter, looking back and forth between Tony and Pepper.

Pepper just sighed. “There was no stopping this, Pete. Trust me. Just go with it.”

He dropped his shoulders in defeat, and retrieved the special coat Tony had designed for him. It was thin and black and laced with technology to make up for the spider DNA in him that caused him to be extra sensitive to the cold.

An ugly reindeer hat got forced on his head, and Tony almost strangled him with a scarf, but eventually he survived to step out of the lake house and into the bright night.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the lake house property covered in pure, fresh snow. The trees, the lake, Gerald’s little shed, and the car he and Tony had been working on fixing up, were blanketed by snow so white it lit up the darkness.

“See,” said Tony. “You have to see it at night, before the sun comes up, to get the full experience.”

Peter couldn’t admit it out loud, but he saw Tony’s point.

They got to work building a family of snowpeople, and Peter didn’t miss his opportunity to ditch the reindeer hat to cover the head of the smallest snow kid of the bunch.

Snow plopped in his hair, and Peter shivered, his whole body jerking in response. He shook his head until the snow was mostly gone, though his hair stayed damp.

“That’s why you should wear a hat,” Tony told him. “Someone might dump snow on your head.”

So really, it had been Tony’s fault that their family bonding activity turned into a competitive, brutal snowball fight. Everyone for themselves, except Morgan, who flatly refused to throw any snowballs at Pepper and became a minion at her mother’s side.

Peter was running away when it happened.

Tony had his arm raised and aimed, ready to slaughter him with another snowball, when Peter ran out onto snow covered ice and fell through. The icy lake water numbed his legs, and he panicked and froze, splashed around in the small hole of broken ice made of his fall.

His head went under, and he knew it was the end. He was lost under the lake. He’d drown. He’d freeze to death, right in front of his family. But then he didn’t. And he wasn’t.

His head floated back up above water, and Tony shouted at him from shore.

“Peter! Stand up!”

Peter stood up. The water went to his waist.

“Oh,” said Peter. He couldn’t exactly feel his legs, but he was glad that they still worked.

He waded out of the frozen lake, shivering, with his teeth chattering, and was greeted by Tony ushering him into the warm house, where he was ordered into dry clothes and forced to sit by the crackling fireplace.

As if that weren’t enough, Tony came at him with Pepper’s hair dryer.

“Tony,” said Peter. “No! I’m fine.”

Peter sneezed.

“That’s totally unrelated,” said Peter. “Please stop pointing the hair dryer at me.”

Tony put the hair dryer on the living room coffee table, and Peter relaxed, letting the fire warm him up. He chuckled, thinking over the events of the evening, or early morning, or whatever time it was currently.

“What’s funny?”

“Just this,” said Peter. “You, me, I guess. The snow. That was fun.”

“Falling through the ice and turning into a popsicle was fun for you?”

“Guess it was better than sleeping,” said Peter. He imagined his bed might feel warmer, more comforter, with the knowledge of what freezing cold water felt like.

“Oh,” said Tony. “So I was right.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Peter, then sneezed.

That one echoed through the house, causing Pepper to poke her head into the living room, and declare she would make them all chicken soup for breakfast.

“You’re getting a cold,” Tony told him. “Should’ve let the hair drying happen.”

Peter rolled his eyes. Sometimes Tony was so dramatic, as if having dry hair might have saved him from the cold he was pretty sure was already coming on before he’d gotten swallowed by the ice.

“Well, come on,” said Tony. “Up on the couch. Get cozy. We’ll turn on some Netflix.”

He did what he was told, because he knew he couldn’t deny both the hair dryer and Tony’s need to nestle him up in a thousand different blankets, as if he were a baby bird that needed protecting.

“Hey, um, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Since when do you like snow?”

“I’ve always loved snow.”

“No,” said Peter. “Remember last year when it snowed? And you were in a really grumpy mood about it? And you weren’t watching out for ice, so you slipped and -”

“-Kid, I remember,” said Tony. “And since you’re so curious, I still hate the snow.”

“You hate it so much you forced all of us out of bed to go and play in it?” He questioned. It wasn’t making much sense. Even for Tony.

“I suppose,” said Tony, with a sigh. “I suppose I’m just trying to make it memorable for her. And you. Creating good memories and all that shit. Something you guys won’t forget when you’re old and grumpy about the snow. I just - I don’t have that many happy memories with my dad, and I’m trying to break -”

“-the cycle of shame,” said Peter. He’d heard it a few times since the ferry incident. “Yeah, I know.” There was a silence, and the fire crackled. “You’re doing a good job, if that helps.”

Tony smiled at him, as a way of telling him it did, and ruffled his hair. He left Peter in the living room with the remote in his hand, with the fire crackling, and with his eyes drooping, threatening to take him back to the dream he’d been having before it was welcomingly interrupted.

[newnewyorker93]

Starry Night

(also on ao3)

Pepperony Week 2019 • Day 4: family/Morgan Stark

Summary: Tony, Pepper, and baby Morgan spend a sleepless night stargazing on the lawn outside their lake house; Tony & Pepper work through some of their complicated emotions about the stars.

---

"Hey, Pep!" Tony greeted his wife, cheerfully beaming up at her as if it were completely normal for Pepper to find him like this - lying on his back in the grass outside their house at nearly 3:30 am with one hand holding their 6-month-old daughter steady on his chest and the other tucked behind his head like a makeshift pillow.

Pepper had to bite back a relieved grin as she took in the odd scene at her feet. Not that she'd been worried. Just...mildly concerned. She knew Tony wouldn't have gone far from the house, not this late and certainly not when he had baby Morgan with him but when she hadn't seen him at any of the usual spots - the porch swing and the bench in the garden both empty, the lights in the garage all off… She couldn't help it if her heart had started to race in the moments before she'd spotted the two of them here, just close enough to the house to still be within the range of the porch light's soft glow. "What on earth are you doing out here?"

"Sunbathing." Tony deadpanned. "Thought I'd get an early start to it." He shifted his hand out from under his head and reached out to grab at Pepper's ankle, drumming his fingers playfully up her leg.

"I woke up and you were gone."

"Sorry, honey." Tony said more seriously, a note of guilt in his voice. "I couldn't sleep, just...needed to get some air. Little Miss M was awake too so I took her with me."

Pepper nodded. It hadn't escaped her notice that Tony had been even more restless than usual in the little over a year since getting back from space - he'd get uncomfortable and fidgety staying in any one room for too long, and he often wandered outside like he needed the reassurance that outside existed and he could go there whenever he wanted. Pepper hated it when this happened at night, hated that jolt of panic she still felt every time in the few seconds between waking up to find that Tony wasn't sleeping peacefully beside her and FRIDAY dutifully reporting that he'd gone for a walk or was sitting up with Morgan, but she did understand it.

"Tried the porch swing for a while," Tony continued, "but it wasn't doing the trick, so-"

"So you thought you'd find somewhere more comfortable, like the ground?"

"I'll have you know this particular spot is actually extremely comfortable, Pep. This is very high quality grass we've got here, nice and soft."

"You'll regret it in the morning." Pepper warned, already picturing the stiffness she'd end up having to work out of his back if he stayed lying out here too long (and seriously doubting the ability of soft grass to make any difference whatsoever).

"Yeah, probably." Tony shrugged. "Enjoy the moment though, right?"

Pepper couldn't help smiling at that, Tony's whimsy breaking through her attempt to be responsible like it so often did. "Right."

"So anyway, we were just having a nice little late night chat out here, weren't we, munchkin?" Tony tickled Morgan until she started giggling happily and kicking her tiny feet against his stomach and then tilted his head back to look up at Pepper again. "Insomniacs' rendezvous. There's room for one more if you want to join the party..."

Pepper laughed and, accepting the proffered invitation, sat down on the grass next to her husband and daughter and made herself comfortable. "Unless Morgan's developed some astonishing new skills in the past few hours I'm assuming 'chat' means you were rambling…"

"Hey!" Tony protested, furrowing his brow in feigned indignation. "Morgan loves it when I ramble." Then, teasingly, "She's like you that way."

Pepper gave Tony's shoulder a playful shove. "She's like you that way."

Tony scoffed and rolled Morgan over onto her stomach so he could address his baby girl face-to-face. "Don't you listen to Mommy, Mo. Her life would be sooo boring and quiet without me, she'd hate it."

"I would, you know." Pepper said softly, barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah." Tony looked back up at Pepper, an apology written in his eyes as he took in the tension in her posture, the way she was hugging her legs tighter against her body now. "I know."

Morgan had been solemnly tracking back and forth between her parents with her eyes like she was trying to follow along; now that they appeared to be entering a non-verbal portion of the conversation she lost interest and directed her attention instead towards grabbing a fistful of her father's shirt in her hand. The sudden motion and subsequent delighted shriek when she accomplished her goal had the added benefit of jerking Tony and Pepper out of their moment of somber contemplation, and they both couldn't help but grin at their daughter's antics.

Pepper reached over and ran a finger lightly back and forth a few times over the top of the little hand now gripping tightly onto Tony's shirt and Morgan gurgled happily in response. "So what were you two talking about anyway? Did I miss anything interesting?"

"No we were just- we were stargazing, actually."

"Really?" Pepper asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't think…" She trailed off. After everything, after watching him struggle through years of nightmares and panic attacks and Thanos... she'd assumed Tony had seen enough of space for a lifetime, that stargazing would be far from the top of his list of relaxing activities for sleepless nights.

Tony sighed heavily. "I used to love doing this, you know. And you can see so much here, away from the city lights...it's beautiful. I mean, objectively, it's gorgeous." (It was gorgeous on the Benatar, too) "I just- I don't want to be scared to look up anymore. And I don't want her to be scared either."

Tony rubbed Morgan's back absentmindedly as he spoke; she gave a sleepy yawn and settled down a little bit more onto his chest, then stuck her thumb in her mouth and started sucking contentedly.

Pepper watched fondly as the two of them relaxed together in their quiet little feedback loop of comfort. "This helps," she guessed.

Tony nodded. "It's...grounding." He laughed. It sounded silly, when he said it out loud like that - the ground is grounding; well, of course it is - but it was the truth. Out here in the grass, in the middle of an Earth-Morgan sandwich he felt safe, the pressure of her warm little body against his anchoring him to right here, right now. Outer space seemed far away again in a way it hadn't since the wormhole and for once he didn't feel like he was falling or trapped or suffocating. The stars were just stars. He looked up quietly for a few moments, lost in thought.

"You could see a lot of stars from the compound, too." Pepper said suddenly, breaking the silence in more ways than one as she frowned up at the tiny pinpricks of light scattered across the inky black night sky.

They were so cold, so distant. It was all she could think about when she looked up now, how she'd almost lost him up there, almost lost everything. How every night for twenty-two nights that felt more like twenty-two years she'd pulled on one of Tony's favorite sweatshirts, one that still smelled strongly of sweat and motor oil and metal and his cologne - a totally inadequate substitute for his arms around her but the best she could do - and gone up to the roof of the compound, sat there looking at the stars with her hand pressed to her stomach, breathing in deeply and wishing Tony was there with her- no, with them. She hadn't felt any different yet, then; all she had was two blue lines and a follow-up blood test to let her know that Morgan was there at all but she'd whispered softly to her anyway, told her that Tony was somewhere out there and that he was coming home to them, that he always came home. Over and over again like if she just said it aloud enough times she could make it true-

"Hey." Tony's voice was gentle as he pulled Pepper out of the lonely memory, knowing what she needed without her having to say it. "Come here." He tugged her down to lie down next to him; wrapped his arm securely around her back and slid his hand under the hem of her shirt (one of his, even now) to rest on her hip, calloused thumb tracing soothing circles against her bare skin.

"I talked to her, too," Pepper murmured as she snuggled up to him, leaning gratefully into his warm embrace. She felt a little foolish admitting it, even to Tony. She was supposed to be the strong one, the rational one, or at least that's what she told herself. "I- I looked for you in the stars."

"Shh, it's ok, I'm here now. I'm not-" Tony paused, assessing his current position - flat on his back with the dead weight of a (finally) sleeping 6-month-old sprawled across his torso, he probably couldn't get up even if he wanted to - and cracked a wry smile. "Literally and figuratively, Pep, I swear I'm not going anywhere." He pulled Pepper even closer and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're stuck with me."

She laughed and buried her face in Tony's side, muffling her voice so he felt more than heard it when she responded, "Good."

Pepper reached up, feeling around until she found Tony's hand and gripped it tightly, their fingers threading together on top of their sleeping daughter. Neither of them spoke anymore after that, and soon it was just Tony left lying awake and looking up, Morgan and Pepper sound asleep in his arms. The three of them held each other safe and tight for the rest of the night, until the sky started to lighten and the faraway stars twinkled out one by one.