#he didn’t even allow him to give Luke a toy!!

[spitefulwriters]

JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera (3.1K) JJ and Kie happen to bump into each other at an event. By chance. Totally by chance. 18+

“You’re kidding.” 

Pope’s head turned to look his way, his brows furrowed together slightly at the biting tone in his friend’s voice. He noticed something catching the blond’s attention, found his gaze following to see what had caught his attention. 

Not what.

Who. 

The boy’s face softened and something quite like sympathy shone in his eyes. Not that JJ noticed, not at all. His eyes were locked on the body across the room, watching the figure move amongst the crowd, movements so fluid it almost felt like a dance. And fuck, he didn’t want to look away. 

“JJ,” he murmured under his breath, nudging the boy with his elbow until those blue eyes snapped around to look at him. “Listen, man, I didn’t know she was going to be here—”

But JJ just shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said like it was true, like he wasn’t gripping the glass with obscenely expensive whiskey in his hand so tight it could shatter. 

Pope didn’t look convinced. “I know the breakup was hard—”

“I said it was fine, Pope,” JJ bit out between gritted teeth. 

Because it was fine. It was so fine. And even if it wasn’t fine, he wasn’t about to show that to Pope. He needed to keep this up. He needed to keep up the facade in front of Pope and John B and everyone else attending this stupid museum gala. He would smile, he would drink this stupid whiskey and he would pretend like the collar of his suit wasn’t cutting off his circulation. 

He would do it because he had to.

“I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced aimlessly as he tore his eyes away from his friend, clearing his throat a little.

Pope frowned. “But you haven’t—”

He was cut off as JJ downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass, allowing the liquid to burn down his throat before slamming the glass on the table. 

“Like I said,” the blond flashed him a smile. “I need a refill.”

He didn’t give his friend much of a chance to say anything as he wandered away from their table, pushing through the crowd with half-hearted apologies mumbled under his breath. He glanced at the bar, contemplating getting another drink but thought against it. He needed to be as close to sober he could get. 

He needed to stay sharp. 

JJ ignored the questioning looks and the lame attempts of random old, rich people reaching out to talk to him. He knew what they wanted, he knew they just wanted to talk to him just so they could say they did. 

One of The Six. 

That was all they cared about. For his whole life, people cared about his name. They cared that he was Luke Maybank’s son, that he was another Maybank generation of disappointment, that he was just a lowlife that would achieve nothing in his life like his ancestors before him. His whole fucking life revolved around his name. 

And after El Dorado, it seemed like nothing really changed. People didn’t care about him, not a single bit. They just cared about what his name was attached to, like a shiny, new toy hanging in front of them that they were desperate to dig their claws into. They cared about what his name could do for them. 

JJ didn’t know which one was worse. 

JJ didn’t know if it made him a little twisted to miss the lack of expectations people had for him, when he was young and stupid and didn’t realise what the pitying looks from his teachers meant when they saw the blues and purples colouring his skin. 

He just wanted to go back to when he was a fucking nobody to everyone. 

Everyone but her.

“I thought we agreed to wait half an hour.” 

JJ lifted his head from against the wall, blinking his eyes open as the whirling thoughts came to a sudden halt and every cell in his body was screaming for something else. He blinked once, then twice before he let out a shuddering breath. 

Kiara Carrera was gorgeous. 

It wasn’t an opinion or an observation. It was just a fact. A plain and simple fact. Humans needed air to breathe, the Earth revolved around the sun, there were twenty-six letters in the English alphabet and Kiara Carrera was so damn pretty that it made his heart hurt.

She was pretty when she was laying in bed, her curls a mess on her head and her eyes still blinking away the sleep as she reached out for him. She was pretty when she was mad, her nose scrunching and her glare biting him in a way that excited him. She was even pretty when she was sad, those glossy eyes staring at him like he had the answer to everything. 

But pretty didn’t even begin to cover how fucking breath-taking she looked in front of him right now. 

The dress was a deep red, silk and flowing and clinging onto the curves of her body in a way that would make Aphordite jealous. The peak of her skin just made him spiral further, making it a little harder to breathe when he knew exactly how soft and smooth it felt under his fingertips. The way her curls cascaded down her shoulders, hints of lighter strands from the days spent in the sun after hours of surfing the same waves they have been riding for years. 

But it was the lips that got him.

The lips that were the same fucking colour as the stupid dress she was wearing. 

The lips he wanted to fucking feel against him. 

“When have you ever known me to stick to the plan?” He retorted, suddenly wishing he had grabbed the extra drink from the bar when he felt how dry his mouth was. 

Her lips twitched upwards. “Or be patient.” 

A beat passed as they both stared at each other, feeling a million miles away from the gala in the abandoned hallway. They let themselves bask in the moment, in their own little bubble of frozen time before he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Fuck, I missed you.”

Something in his chest eased the second he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her into his chest as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. He took a deep breath, letting the smell of her vanilla perfume overwhelm him until his lungs were full of it. He felt her sink into the embrace, felt her body sag against his and it was the closest he had ever felt to coming home.

“I hate this,” she murmured as her hands fisted the material of his blazer between her fingers, like she was scared someone was going to pull him away from her. “I really hate this.”

“Me too, baby, me too,” he murmured back, his lips brushing against the junction of her neck that he knew would have her crumbling in his hands in seconds. “But we gotta do it. We can’t risk them knowing, can’t risk them taking you away from me.” 

And maybe that was the hardest part of it all.

JJ was used to acting first and thinking later. He never cared about the consequences when it came to himself, he never really had a sense of self-preservation. It wasn’t that he never valued his life, he just didn’t go out of his way to care about it as much as he should have. But when nobody else really cared for you, was there ever a reason to care about yourself?

But this was different. This wasn’t just about him. He wasn’t the one who would get punished if they found it. 

When he had broken Kiara out of Kitty Hawk, it seemed like a no-brainer. There were no thoughts about the consequences or the repercussions. He just knew he needed to get her out of there, he just needed her. 

The Carrera’s didn’t see it as much. 

Even on their return from El Dorado, even when the rest of the world saw them as heroes and explorers and the best thing to happen to the island—her parents saw it as rebellion. 

And JJ was always in the middle of it.

But with the fear of her parents sending her away—somewhere far away where he couldn’t ever reach her again—they had to play it smart. With the months ticking away until Kiara’s eighteenth birthday, they had to just bite their tongues and keep her parents in the dark until they couldn’t act on their threats anymore. 

Kiara never cared about her inheritance or a trust fund or anything else they could blackmail her with. Nothing mattered more to her than her freedom, and in a few months, that would be all hers too. 

It just really fucking sucked that it meant they had to play this part, had to play into this stupid act. It sucked that they couldn’t even risk telling their friends or anyone else they trusted. It sucked that he had to pretend every day that he had moved on—that he was moving on. 

It really fucking sucked that after years of pining and wanting and yearning, it would be the last few months that really tipped JJ Maybank over the edge. It was like his own personal form of torture to stay away, to keep away when he had gotten a taste of Kiara Carrera before she was ripped away from him again. 

“I know,” Kiara sighed, the words sounding heavier than they ever should from someone as young as her.

“It would make it a lot easier if you warned me about lil’ numbers like these,” he commented after a few seconds, something inside him desperate to see her smile again. 

Kiara snorted and he felt himself grinning at the sound. She pulled back, glancing down at her dress before looking at him with an innocent expression. “What ever could you mean?” She teased, playful and sounding a little more like the Kiara he loved before treasure hunts and meddling parents ruined them. “You can’t tell me this is getting you all hot and bothered, Maybank?”

“You could wear a trash bag and I would be on my knees, Kiara,” he retorted, the words earnest and sincere and her name just sounding like the end of a promise.

Her cheeks flushed but she didn’t look away. “Really know how to make a girl swoon, Jay.”

“Not a girl,” he shook his head, his hands gripping her waist like she would disappear. “Just you, baby.”

“Jay,” she breathed out, finding herself rendered speechless at the hands of JJ Maybank once again. 

It had been far too long since he held her in his arms, since he was able to shamelessly say every thought that came to his head instead of having to hide behind the facade of broken exes. It had been far too long since he was able to tell her, since he was able to see her cheeks flush all pretty and pink and know he was the reason behind it.

His eyes dropped to her painted lips. “We should probably head back to the gala before somebody notices we are missing.” 

She nodded dumbly. “Yeah, probably.”

“We can’t blow our cover, Kie,” he continued, his body moving on autopilot to follow her as she took one step back and then another.

“Of course,” she answered, walking back step by step until her back hit the wall. 

“We don’t have much time,” he whispered, something stronger than desire burning in the pit of his stomach as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. 

“We needed much time,” she retorted, and JJ couldn’t bring himself to care about the voice in the back of his head screaming that it was a bad idea. 

He could go back to moping in his yearning and bubbling feelings later, he could break the facade for just a little while. 

The sound of her moan was muffled the second his lips pressed against hers, his hands engulfing her face like she was his lifeline. In so many ways, she honestly was. 

It didn’t matter that somebody could wander down this random hallway and see them. It didn’t matter that everyone they had been hiding their secret from were only a few walls away. It didn’t matter that it was risky and stupid and an unnecessary danger to their plan. 

It wasn’t a logical decision at all but, then again, he didn’t have much use for logic when it came to Kiara.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed against her lips between kisses, his heart thundering in his chest when she let out a delighted noise. His head dropped to her neck, his lips touching every inch of skin he could to cover them with hopeful kisses. “You are fucking breath-taking, Kiara.”

“Jay,” she said, the tone in her voice was some twisted mix of a warning and a plea that thrilled him.

“I meant what I said,” he continued as his hands fisted the material of her silk dress between his fingers as it bunched at her hips. “You could wear anything, baby, anything and it would get me on my knees.”

Her lips parted in surprise as she watched him slowly descend down her body, nosing at her dress until his knees hit the carpeted ground. She pressed herself against the wall like it would help, like it would ground her enough when he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his hair dropping in front of his eyes as he looked up at her like a goddamn greek tragedy. 

“Please, baby,” he whispered, breathless and absolutely at her mercy as his hands wrapped around her calves. “I need it, Kie. I need it so fucking bad.” 

She didn’t even realise she had been nodding until he let out a groan, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder as his lips pressed against the bare skin of her thighs.

His hands squeezed the fat of her thighs, basking in the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he pressed one, two, three kisses along her inner thigh. He pushed the skirt of her dress up until it pooled at her waist, until he was able to slot himself between his legs like he had dreamed about pathetically for the last few weeks.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned as his fingers brushed against the waistband of her panties, if they could even be called as much. They were black and lacy and barely made of any fabric, and fuck, it made his head spin.

“Didn’t want it to ruin the dress,” she simply said, a teasing grin on her lips that he just wanted to kiss off her face. 

“You’re a fuckin’ tease,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against her hip but he couldn’t help but smile as she laughed. 

She pushed her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back so she could see the heated look in his eyes. “They are a part of a set.”

His lips parted in surprise. “Kiara.”

“I’ll wear it for you sometime,” she added, blood roaring in her ears as she spoke.

He cocked a brow. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, swallowing thickly. “Unless you get us caught.”

His eyes darkened and something mischievous washed over his expression as he grinned up at her. “Better keep quiet then, baby.”

It was fucking sinful to have JJ Maybank on his knees for her. To have him dressed up in a sleek suit that cost more than either of them cared to admit, to have him groaning and panting and pawing at her like he was a starved man who craved her. To have his head buried between her legs, one hand keeping her pushed open and the other pushing the fabric of her panties to the side.

Her head fell back as she slapped her hand over her mouth, a noise whiny and pathetic quickly muffled as she felt his tongue pressing slow, deliberate circles against her clit. Her eyes fluttered shut as he pulled her closer, as she let him because it felt like every cell in her body sacrificed itself to JJ Maybank the second he got his hands on her.

“Shit, Jay, please.” The words slurred together as she felt the coil in her stomach twist, as she felt an overwhelming urge to squeeze her thighs around his head.

“I got you, baby,” he groaned, his nails digging into her skin like she would be ripped away from him, like somebody would take away the taste of heaven away from his lips. His nose brushed against her clit as he glanced up at her, as he watched her chest heave with soft pants. “Atta girl, Kiara.” 

His hands gripped her thighs as she shook under his touch, as her body shuddered with every lick against her pussy. He groaned as she engulfed him completely with her taste and her smell and her moans and everything herherher.

His eyes fluttered shut as her thighs pushed against his ear, as her hands gripped his hair, as her heel dug into his back. His groans vibrated against her shuddering body as she came, as she let herself mutter his name on a loop like a broken record. His whole body burned for this to be forever, for the rest of the world to disappear and leave just the two of them to stay exactly where they were for the rest of their lives.

“Fuck,” Kiara breathed out, her head hitting the wall behind her with a low thump before she huffed out a laugh. “We are stupid.”

“Maybe,” he hummed as he pressed a kiss onto her shaky thighs, and then one more for good measure because he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her just yet. “But stupid things have—”

“—good outcomes all the time,” she finished with a grin on her face. 

“And this was the best goddamn outcome ever,” he murmured as his hands glided up and down her thighs, like it physically pained him to pull his touch away from her. Maybe because it did. 

“Yeah,” she murmured, a soft expression on her face as she reached down, as her fingertips brushed over his face. “We just gotta ride out this stupid plan for a few months.”

He turned his head, catching her wrist as he pressed a light kiss on the palm of her hand. “Soon, baby. Some outcomes are so good that we just have to wait a little for them.”

“Soon,” she repeated like a mantra, like both of them had been doing every single day. 

Soon. Soon. Soon.

Just not yet.

-Roxy (SW3)

[havenmoodz]

Luke smutty time <33

MDNI!

a/n: Okay, we’re skipping the fluff and just going straight in. There’s some fluff at the end, though! (Only if you squint) 

cw! Restraints, use of toys (vibrators), blindfolds, edging, overstim, teasing, dacryphillia, dom/sub dynamics (only if you squint), he also calls you darling/baby like– once. 

(Gn!reader)

You’ve been here for..how long? You can’t remember, but it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? You cocked your head to the side, nudging it against one of your arms that are currently tied by silky rope above your head. You shifted your head again, trying to move the tear-stained blindfold he put on you to a more comfortable position. You hear him click his tongue, as he turns the vibrator up to the max setting…again. You let out a whimper as you buck your hips up and arch your back. “Did I give you permission to move?” he says in a strict tone, you could only whine in response. 

He gets up and pushes your hips back down onto the bed. “Then, don’t. move.” He keeps your hips there as you make more sounds, they get more desperate and drawn out the longer he holds you down. 

“Please– let me– argh– need it– hng–“ he smiles, clearly enjoying what he’s doing to you. “Please what?~ You’ll have to be more specific, darling~” He traces his slim and warm hand along your body as he turns down the intensity of the vibrator, putting you on the edge but still giving you a sliver of what you want. 

“Please…let me cum– hmnn–♡..I want it so bad…pleaseee..” He holds your hips tighter, “good…so good for me..” he plants a kiss on your forehead as he turns it up to the max setting once again. 

He moves to your ear, whispering in it. “Here..~ I’ll let you cum…over and over and over again~..” He chuckles as he hears your moans. 

You mewl out, more tears adding on to the dark patches on the blindfold. You’re sensitive, all the teasing and edging has made you really needy. He removes his hand and let’s your hips move freely, bucking and grinding as much as you desire. You keep going at it, getting closer and closer to the edge. You expected him to edge you again, but he didn’t. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, body twisting as the vibrations prolong your high. You start calming down…but it doesn’t stop. The vibrator’s still on the same setting, the max. You start moaning out again, sounding more and more whiny and desperate. Pleading for him to turn it down…that it’s “too much”. 

You feel your second high coming, except more intense this time. 

“w–wait– ngh– ‘s too muchhhh haah–♡“

You cry out as you cum again, staining the sheets again. And still, the vibrator persists. Still on the max setting, still hitting the same spot. Is he even there anymore? It’s driving you absolutely insane…

-

Luke hums one of his tunes as he prepares dinner. It’s one of the only times he’s actually cooking. He sighs as he hears you screaming in pleasure, turning off the stove and putting a lid on the pot, saving it for later. He washes his hands and takes his sweet, sweet time walking over to your shared bedroom. Smirking as he does, he opens the door to you. Restrained, lying face up on the bed, squirming and moaning like your life depends on it. He smirks more, cooing at your poor broken moans. 

“Aw…it’s okay baby…I’m here now…” He caresses your cheek as you shudder at the contact, shivering and flinching from the overstimulation. He let’s you cum one more time before turning it down, and then fully turning it off. He removes the vibrator, and takes off the blindfold. Your eyes are puffy and red, your lips are in a similar condition from biting them all night.

“Was it good?” he’s now smiling lovingly, as he unties you and allows you to sit up. He takes some expensive cream and rubs it on your face and wrists as you answer. “Mmmm yeah…” you smile, a deep blush still on your face. Luke chuckles as he carries you bridal-style to the bathroom, starting a warm bath for you. “I made dinner…your favourite…” you smile, it’s the only recipe he knows how to cook well; considering he almost burned down the kitchen once trying to cut strawberries. He bathes you as you relax, taking in the romantic aspect of all this. 

Eventually, you’ve finished bathing and eating. You and Luke are now cuddling in bed, having already changed the sheets. You snuggle into his warm embrace as he digs his face into your neck. 

“Mine…all mine…” he whispers, hugging you tighter. He wraps himself around you, as if he’s shielding you from everything. You smile…you feel content. This is how it should be for a long, long time. 

This is how it should be…forever &lt;3

[invisibleraven]

Growing old can go to hell

Reggie's twenty first birthday is not something he's exactly looking forward to. Thankfully Ray and Rose are there to help him through it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @innytoes!

As a present, I wrote you angst set in your amazing Reggie is the one who survives AU verse.

I hope you enjoy!

On AO3!

Reggie’s first birthday after The Orpheum is a haze. He spent most of his days then so deep in grief that every moment seemed to blur together. He slept when he could, but he was so often plagued by nightmares that he’s not sure when he’s awake or asleep or anything. Those were dark days, and he’s really not sure when he quite surfaced to even note that he was any older.

The next year Reggie is in therapy, but he’s also trying to write music again, trying to live again. It’s hard, and he loses more days than he gains in staring at his notebook, blank of all the things he longs to say. Rose and Ray try to encourage him, but there’s only so much he can do. He’s taken to sitting in the shower, letting the water wash away the black, bleak thoughts that consume him, but he tries not to do it too often. The days still all seem to swim together, so he never really registers when he’s suddenly nineteen.

Twenty is spent in the hospital. He tripped over a cord helping set up at a Petal Pushers show, busting his ankle. The nurse who processes his paperwork is the first one to wish him a happy birthday, and he knows he nods in acknowledgement, but that’s it.

Rose and Ray are a bit dismayed that he never shared his birthday with them. He’d certainly celebrated theirs over the past few years, but never his own. He tells them that he’s never been one for birthdays, it’s fine, he’d rather not do anything. They aren’t happy about it, but they accept the lie.

Which it blatantly is.

Because as a kid, Reggie loved his birthday. MeeMaw would always make him a cake, heaped with frosting and sprinkles, singing in her warm southern drawl with Pops strumming along on his banjo. Gifting him with books, toys, and when he was old enough, a horse named Jake. His parents would not be as warm, mainly ensuring he got clothes and things he needed, but it was a day they didn’t fight, which was enough for him.

But then they moved away from Georgia, and his birthdays kind of just… stopped. Money was tighter, so Reggie understood. He bought himself a snack cake from the 7-11 and quietly sang to himself from then on.

Well until he met his boys.

Luke, Alex, and Bobby always made a big deal of birthdays. Their families all sucked, so they made sure they all had a day that they felt loved by the people that really mattered. They would get each other a cake from the grocery store, and while the presents might be a roll of tokens from the arcade or a pizza, or a new guitar strap, they were filled with love. Plus they would end the night with a jam session and their favourite movies.

Reggie never thought when he ended his seventeenth birthday, falling asleep against Luke’s shoulder while Return of the Jedi played on, would be the last he would celebrate that way.

This year was somehow all the worse though, because they had made plans for this year. Getting into a real bar without having to use the truly awful fakes that Bobby had gotten them. Drinking something that wasn’t the watered down beer Alex stole from his dad in a fit of rebellion. Going to every bar and trying to get a gig there now that they were legally allowed in.

But now they wouldn’t get to do any of that.

And Reggie broke down into sobs when it hit him that Luke, Alex, and Bobby never would. They would never be any older than seventeen. They would never have a real ID to use on the disinterested bouncers on the Strip, or be able to buy their first legal drink.

Reggie knew he needed to keep living, Dr. Butler and him had many a long talk about not giving into despair, that he needed to keep going, live the life his boys never would. Which was what he had to do, because Reggie was 21 now, and soon enough he’d be 22, 25, 30… he would keep on aging, getting older.

Alone.

No, that wasn’t fair. He might not have the guys any longer, but he still had Ray and Rose. The two loves of his life, who supported him in every way, who picked him back up when things were the bleakest. He could still celebrate with them. Grow old with them, even if Ray had forbidden cracks about the few years that separated them long ago.

He was sure Rose was just waiting to ask what he wanted to do for his birthday, and while the temptation to say nothing was there, he decided that for them, he could celebrate again. Just… not in the same way, that would be too hard.

Sure enough, it was a day or two later that Rose pounced. Well, more so made circles with her finger on his chest as they all came down from their orgasms, Ray snuggled into his other side, a mere moment away from dreamland.

“So tesoro,” Rose started. “It’s your birthday in a few days.”

“Yup.”

“What do you want to do? It’s a bit late to plan a surprise party…”

“Oh God, don’t do that,” Reggie pleaded with a grimace. “I hate surprise parties.”

“We could have a few people over?” Ray suggested sleepily. “Tori and the Petal Pushers, maybe a few people from the studio?” He nuzzled his nose behind Reggie’s ear, then along his jaw, and even as sated as Reggie was, the move still made him shiver.

“I think I’d rather just have a quiet night in with the two of you,” Reggie confessed. “Eat some cake, go to bed early.”

“Are you sure? Twenty one is a big one, we have no problem making a big fuss, or going out to a bar with you,” Rose offered.

“No,” Reggie shook his head. “Just… low key birthday at home. That’s all I want.”

“Can we at least get you a present?” Ray asked.

“Nothing big,” Reggie said. “I… birthdays are hard for me. I just want to get through the day.”

“We don’t have to celebrate if you don’t want to,” Rose whispered, pressing a kiss to his heart.

“I know you want to though,” Reggie said, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, then repeating the motion to Ray. “You’ve both done so much for me, the least I can do is let you throw me a bit of a birthday.”

“Red velvet cake then?” Rose said with a smirk.

“My favourite,” Reggie said with a smile.

“Pizza, cake, presents, sounds like a good birthday to me,” Ray remarked with a yawn. “Sleep first though.”

The other two agreed, and before long, they were all asleep, and Reggie smiled as he dreamed of cake.

~

The day of Reggie’s birthday was gray and misty, which he thought fitting, as it matched his gloomy mood. How could he even think of celebrating? Here he was, alive and healthy while his best friends were dead, and if it weren’t for fate, Reggie would have-should have-died with them. It wasn’t fair that he got to grow older, to live life to the fullest when their lives were just… over.

He peered open his bleary eyes, wiping his palm over his face. It was rare he slept alone these days, but he had begged for solitude the night before, and his partners had granted it. Probably for the best, since he had no wish to see them. To see their disappointment when he could barely manage to get up, let alone spend the day acknowledging his birth.

He groped for the phone, finally bringing it to him, and sighed. He should call someone, let them absorb his worries and guilt, absolve him of his melancholy. Only… who on Earth would he call?

Alex, Luke, and Bobby were gone, and he had little to nothing to do with their families. Bobby’s lola Celia was the only exception, but she was in a home now, and he felt weird calling her so early. He knew that Luke’s parents had tried reaching out a few times, but after no response from him, they stopped. Reggie couldn’t find it in him to talk to Emily, to look her in the eye and explain why her darling boy was gone, but he was still here.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to his own parents since that fateful July day, and that was a mere “I’m going out!” at them while they argued. He’s not sure where they think he is, and he had only gone back to get his things when he knew they were out. Sure, it was cowardly, but without the guys to back him, Reggie knew returning to that house would only spell disaster.

He could call MeeMaw. He should call MeeMaw honestly. He was all she had left really, and they talked every week for the most part. But then he remembered that she was out with some of her friends on some cruise or another. She had told him she’d try to call if she could get reception, but if not, she’d ensure they had a long jaw when she got back, and that his card was in the mail.

But Reggie called none of those options, instead dialing a very familiar number, oh so slowly rotating the dial for each one, and then hoping and praying that there would be no answer as the call connected.

“Dr. Butler’s office, Inez speaking.”

“H-hi Inez, it’s Reggie,” he said softly. “Is she free?”

“Oh hi babe, lemme see… Yes, she had a cancellation this morning. Gimme a sec and I’ll patch you through.”

“Thanks Inez, you’re a doll.”

“Anything for you sweetcheeks,” Inez giggled. Reggie knew the woman enjoyed their little flirtations, she claimed they made her feel young again. Even when Reggie protested that forty five was not old, nor did she look it. “Oh and Reg? Happy Birthday.”

Reggie was sure he choked out a thanks as the hold music played, his grip on the phone almost white knuckled. Finally the awful tuneless gibber was done, and the smokey voice of Pepper echoed down the line. “I was wondering when you were gonna call.”

“Hey Pep.”

“Hey sweetie, doing okay?”

Reggie gave a mirthless laugh. “What do you think?”

Pepper hummed. “Well I don’t know Reginald, I’m not a mind reader, remember. That’s the whole point of you coming to me right? So you can tell me how you’re feeling and I come up with ways to help you cope or deal or whatever it is you need. So I’ll ask again, how are you?”

“Pretty shitty, honestly,” Reggie admitted. Then told her how he was feeling-the black mire of guilt that he was here and his friends were not. That they never would be, and the unfairness of it all.

“It is unfair, yes,” Pepper said. “But it’s not your fault Reggie, we’ve been over this.”

“But if I hadn’t gotten distracted by that dog…”

“Then you might have very well eaten the street dogs too and be dead as well.”

“Maybe I should be,” Reggie said. “It feels… wrong that I’m not.”

“Do you think any of your friends would feel that way if it had been them that survived instead of you?” Pepper asked. They’d gone through this dialogue so many times before, and Reggie knew what his depressed brain wanted to say, and what answer Pepper wanted to hear.

“No,” he sighed. “They would keep living, keep going. Which is what I need to do.”

“Good,” Pepper hummed. “First step though; get through today. I know it’s going to be hard, but you’ve got your partners there with you, and I’m just a phone call away.”

Reggie slowly breathed out of his nose, centering himself. “I know.”

“You got this kiddo,” Pepper said reassuringly. “Now go demolish a slice of cake for me and I’ll see you next week.”

“Thanks Pep.”

“Happy Birthday Reggie.”

There’s a knock on the door as he places the phone back on the receiver, and he calls out a hello. Ray and Rose tentatively open the door, apprehensive smiles on their faces, and Reggie grins, beckoning them closer. Moaning when he sees the try piled high with breakfast.

“Figured we’d start the day off right at the very least,” Ray says, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You sleep okay?” Rose asks, swiping a piece of toast as Reggie takes a deep drink of the coffee they brought, already doctored just the way he likes it-black as night with enough sugar to kill a man.

“Not especially,” Reggie admits, taking a bite of the crispy bacon. “Nightmares and the like.”

“You know you can always come to us when you can’t sleep tesoro,” Ray reminds him.

“I know, but I was tossing and turning-I wanted at least you two to have a good night’s sleep,” Reggie replies. “Plus it just means we can all snuggle and have a nap later.”

“Devious ulterior motive,” Rose says.

After that there’s little talking as they polish off the food, and as much as he wants to, Reggie doesn’t ask what their plan is. He knows that if he does, he’ll protest them making a big deal out of him. Instead goes with the flow, lets them put the dishes away and then lets himself be pulled into a hot bubble bath. He sighs with contentment the moment he sinks into the water, head lolling against Ray’s shoulder, hands coming up to embrace Rose. Giggling when she pokes his side, wiggling her eyebrows and motioning to under the water where he is poking her.

Reggie really loves baths okay?

They stay in the bath a while, sloshing the water about, until their skin is pruned, their legs are wobbly, and they are freshly cleaned under the shower spray after making the bath water just a little dirty. The warm towel envelops Reggie and he laughs when Ray uses it to ruffle his hair, while Rose frees her curls from the bun she had sported in the bath.

From there they get dressed, all casual lazing around clothes, and Reggie takes a small comfort in his favourite flannel, welcoming him and shielding him a little, like it was armour instead of worn cotton.

They spend the rest of the morning in the garden. Rose has the green thumb of the three of them, and she putters around, tending to her flowers while Ray weeds, adding the pile to the compost. Reggie takes out his acoustic, strumming idly and fetches them a pitcher of lemonade to enjoy as the sun grows higher in the sky. He’s learned long ago that he and plants don’t get along, so aside from watering the ones that fill the studio-his own form of meditation and prayer-he tends not to touch the greenery, lest he kill it all.

Lunch is simple grilled cheese, eaten on the patio, the radio playing softly and Reggie gives a soft smile as one of the songs that comes on is one of his. A sweet tender ballad about lost love that Rose helped him pen. She had refused the credit, but Reggie still sneaks half the residuals from it into her account every month and Ray pretends he doesn’t know when she questions them both about the extra money.

The afternoon is spent napping. Reggie curls in between Ray and Rose on their bed, sighing in comfort as he sinks into the mattress. Inhaling their combined scent, the sweet apple pie scent of their fabric softener, the flowery scent of Rose, the more citrusy scent of Ray, and Reggie’s own smell-the cedar and bergamot aftershave that Alex had bought him one year and he kept buying even if it wasn’t his favourite, just to keep that part of him alive.

He sleeps fitfully at first, but Rose just grips him tighter, singing soft lullabies in Spanish, while Ray adorns his face and neck with soft kisses that eventually helps settle his restless being. He awakens as it gets close to supper time, stretching and yawning. He’s slightly surprised to find Ray and Rose there with him, but ultimately pleased. Rose is reading a book while Ray is quietly doing a crossword puzzle, both of them smiling down at him.

“Good nap?” Ray asks quietly.

“Much needed,” Reggie replies around a yawn. “Thanks for staying.”

“Never an issue hun,” Rose assures him, leaning down for a simple kiss before they all slowly leave the bed. Rose calls for pizza, and they devour it in front of the television, watching some of Reggie’s favourites; The Breakfast Club, Star Wars, and Labyrinth.

“Time for cake?” Ray asks as Bowie starts to sing.

“Cake?’ Reggie asks, then freezes. He had forgotten it was his birthday. He had simply spent a day with his loves, as they had never mentioned it. A wave of feeling washed over him. “Yeah, sure, cake.” He knew his voice was low and sad, but…

“We won’t sing, or make you wear the hat if you don't want,” Rose said.

“No no it’s just…’ Reggie starts, wiping at the tears starting to form in his eyes. And just lets loose all his hang ups about this day. A torrent of grief and regret, and guilt, so much guilt. But Rose and Ray hold him through it all, clean his face when he’s done. And promise to always be there, to remind him of what he needs to-what he has to live for.

They might not understand, but Reggie’s eternally grateful for the two of them, and with watery eyes and a snotty smile, urges Rose to get the cake. “Think I need it after all that.”

Ray jumps up and gets them all stupid party hats, Reggie not even complaining when the elastic cuts into his chin. Manages to keep smiling as Rose enters with the cake, a deep red colour coated in heaps of frosting, a few candles burning atop it. Rose and Ray sing Happy Birthday to him, in Spanish and English, even though Ray is horribly off tune, and Rose is trying her best not to laugh at his horrid singing.

Reggie looks at the dripping wax, and knows he should make a wish. But the one thing he wishes for, he can’t have. No amount of candles will bring his boys back. Instead he wishes for happiness, for the hurt to lessen, and for many more birthdays like this one, surrounded by the loves of his life.

The cake is delicious, as always, and Reggie wonders if he can get away eating another slice for breakfast the next day. Then it’s time for presents. Reggie protests that they didn’t have to get him anything, but Rose holds a finger up to his lips to silence him.

“It’s your birthday, presents are mandatory,” she says. “Plus we spent very little on them, so shush and open them.”

Rose gives him a little coupon book; a get out of dishes card, a massage, breakfast for dinner, silly little things that he can turn in anytime before next year. He loves it, and tells her so. Ray hands him a framed photo of the three of them, squished together in a hammock and looking radiantly happy, Reggie can’t even remember the photo being taken, but he does recall the contentment he felt at that moment, and kisses both of his partners in thanks.

“We have one more,” Ray says, and he looks almost… apprehensive as he hands the box over.

Reggie tears the paper off, and sucks in a breath. It’s a scrapbook, and the cover has the Sunset Curve logo across it. With trembling fingers he opens it, sucking back a sob as the first photo is a shot of the four of them at a gig, sweaty and smiling, not a care in the world. What follows is shot after shot of Luke, Alex, and Bobby. Reggie features in the group shots, but he took a lot of these photos himself, and had stored them in a shoebox in his closet.

There’s ticket stubs to their gigs, handwritten lyrics, liners from their demo, it’s all here. A testament that Sunset Curve existed, that they lived. The final photo is what breaks Reggie though, the tears flowing freely, as it shows the guys surrounding Reggie as he blows out the candles on the cake they got him for his 17’th birthday.

“This is… this is so much,” he finally manages to get out.

“We wanted you to always have a piece of them,” Ray said.

“They’ll always be here,” Rose states, tapping his heart. “But know they can be right here, whenever you need them.”

“I love you both so much,” Reggie cries, letting the tears flow freely as they hug him tight, the book falling to the coffee table as he brings them in closer.

Reggie will never be a big fan of his birthday, even if they do get easier in time. But this one? This one will always be his favourite.

[unohanabbygirl]

ok but in the name of having something NOT angsty happen to luke on this blog-- FMN!au where luke wasn't separated from everyone

what would've been the chances of lucemond happening if luke started off w/ harwin and the rest of his brothers by the time they met rhaenyra and the rest of fam? Like the cinema incident still happens but bby luke doesn't understand why his brother is so mad at this random blond kid? And said kid who just got his ass kicked starts apologizing to him while bleeding profusely?? 😭😭

I think there'd at least be some forgiveness since luke would've grown up around the greens by the time he remembers, but anything romance wise would require YEARS of teen aemond trying his best to court luke. Everyone from their middle school through high school years says it looked like something straight out of those cheesy netflix rom-coms

Lmao, we need so much more fluff here 😭

Things start off SO angsty because little Luke is smothered in Rhaenyra’s embrace and she’s teary eyed and snotty while Aemond who’s all bloody with a broken nose is trying his hardest to get up and run to him. Begging for forgiveness in a heap of tears. He doesn’t care that Jace may kill him if he touches his brother, being able to just hold Luke’s little hand while he apologizes is enough.

Everything is so intense and emotional. Strangers are staring and trying to call security cause why tf are these children beating each other?! So Daemon goes into protective mode trying to hide this very private family moment from outsiders.

Luke remembers Nyra just fine, but this boy who Jace seems to hate only draws a blank. He had dreams, dreams of yelling and heavy rain, but he can’t point his finger on who this blonde kid is. All the while his brother is still feral over protecting him.

In the beginning Aemond keeps trying to initiate contact with Luke who’s been quiet for the most part, just observing how the adults are acting. Trying to figure out what his dreams mean and all. But Jace wont have any of it, Luke practically lives glued to his hip.

At some point Harwin seeing Aemond as the regretful kind kid he is instantly unleashes his inner papa near and convinces Jace to give him a chance. This means that Luke will be allowed to speak with Aemond as he pleases.

When lil Aemond overhears this he immediately runs to Alicent begging her to take him to the store so he can buy Lucy apology gifts compiled of his fav snacks and toys. The kid is already more thoughtful than 70% of grown men out there.

This goes on for years and only grows more serious as they age. Luke remembers most of everything but there are still spotty parts. However he’s known Aemond for so long that he can see the change and forgives.

Que Aemond literally begging Rhaenyra to let him be Luke’s date for his eighth grade dance even though he graduated to the ninth a year prior.

All the girls are fawning because Aemond is literally prince charming and he makes their own dates look like they didn’t even put in effort. Poor dudes are 13 trying to figure out how to rent a Maybach for their next school dance because a barely 15yr old Aemond somehow got his hands on one.

These two probs get married as soon as Luke graduates highschool 😭

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

super cute things lrhwy magnus does for alec?

and alec does for chairman 🙃

and arrow does for magnus lol

1. Things LRHWY Magnus does for Alec

Magnus is the one who picks out Alec’s clothes everyday (when he is off duty ofc lol). It’s not even that Alec doesn’t have the best fashion sense, it’s just they like doing it. Alec would come out of the shower and Magnus always has his clothes on the bed.

When Alec comes back home after his deployment, he needs a few days to accept the reality that he is back home. The transition is very difficult for him and sometimes he can’t be around Magnus for a few days. As much as Magnus wants to keep Alec to him, cuddle him to death, he gives Alec the space. He leaves coffee outside Alec’s room or tea. He leaves post it’s everywhere around the house with sweet shit like “I’m here.” “Come to our room if you want” “i love you” “you looked cute while snoring”

Magnus has never given an interview where he didn’t spend a good 5 minutes talking about Alec. He’s not even truinf it’s just someone will ask him “what’s going on with him?” And his immediate answer would be smth related to Alec. Alec watches those interviews a billion times.

He always records Jace’s or Izzy bday or Maryse and Luke’s anniversary and sends it to alec so that he can watch it later and not feel too bad for missing out on important stuff.

2. Things Alec does for Chairman

PAMPERING???? He buys all the good stuff for chairman even though Magnus thinks chairman is getting spoiled. “He’s a cat Magnus. He doesn’t need to work, let him live his best life”

He secretly lets Chairman into their bedroom when Magnus throws him out for being annoying.

2. Magnus for Arrow

Magnus loves loves loves taking Arrow on walks. When they all go out for a walk/running as a family, Alec is always super into it and disappears while Magnus strolls Arrow around the park slowly.

Arrow has a billion soft toys courtesy of one Mr. Monogamous Bane.

Arrow is the only one who is allowed to lick Magnus’s face when he has makeup on. Not even Alec is allowed to do that sjshskskskw (not that that stops Alec but yk)

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

We Fell in Love in October, chapter 12 - October 12th: Happy Birthday (The Second Saturday)

For @gaelic-symphony

Summary: Emily turns 18

Chapter word count: 816

Total word count: 13,717

Can also be read here on Ao3

Emily Prentiss woke up on her 18th birthday in her girlfriend's arms. She had come over after Homecoming, and they were so exhausted that they practically had to fight to stay awake to get out of their dresses and into their pyjamas and washed off their makeup. They fell asleep in Tara’s bed and woke up feeling so completely warm and content.

“Happy birthday,” Tara whispered into Emily’s hair. 

Emily looked up at Tara and received Good Morning, Happy Birthday kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Why the fuck did you agree to have a party at Penelope’s the day after homecoming?”

“Because she wouldn’t take no for an answer and I knew my mom was going to be out of town and I didn’t want to be alone on my birthday. I didn’t anticipate this.”

Tara held her tighter. “Well, here I am. You want breakfast, or do you want to stay in bed a little bit longer?”

Emily nestled her face into the crook of Tara’s neck.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.”

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed, and Tara started making pancakes. “I can help,” Emily said.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Tara told her. “It is your birthday, which means you are not allowed to work even the tiniest bit. I am making you birthday pancakes, now sit down.”

They ate their breakfast, got ready, and then Albert drove them to Penelope’s. “Why aren’t you having this party at your house again?” Tara asked.

“Dave and Penelope offered,” Emily explained. “And you really think I’m the kind of person who turns down a birthday party at a mansion? You’ve seen the parties Dave’s thrown there, right? It is the most extravagant shit ever.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Tara conceded, laughing.

“You’re here!” Penelope squealed when they arrived. She ran to Emily giving her a tight hug. “Happy birthday! I’m so excited for you!” She grabbed their hands and dragged them inside. “Come on! I can’t wait to show you how we have the backyard set up!”

The three girls walked into the backyard to see Luke just finishing putting up the final streamer. “Hey, guys,” he said in greeting. “Happy birthday, Emily.”

“Thanks, Luke.”

“He offered to come over early to help set up,” Penelope explained.

“Oh did he?” Tara said pointedly at Luke.

He responded with a look that begged her to shut up.

Once everyone arrived, the party started in full, and the Rossi-Garica clan knew how to throw a party. There was dancing, there was delicious food and drink, it was all perfect. 

After they had exhausted themselves from dancing—which didn’t take them too long, considering they’d done it the night before—they gathered around to watch Emily open her gifts. 

“This one’s from me,” Tara said, handing her a tall, thin cardboard box. Emily opened it up to reveal an at-home cold brew steeper. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “This is so gay. I love it. Thank you.”

Spencer and Derek both gave her books. Spencer gave her some more academic books he thought she might like, and Derek gave her some Kurt Vonnegut books—the first thing they had ever bonded over. JJ and Will gave her some jewelry, and Matt and Kristy gave her a gorgeous sweater she’d pointed out to Kristy on one of their shopping trips. Luke gave her a little succulent with a lesbian flag stuck in it. She loved it.

Penelope was the last one to give Emily her gift, which was a large box full of cat costumes and toys. “They’re for Sergio,” she explained.

“Only you would buy someone a birthday gift that was actually something for their pet,” Luke said. His tone was teasing, but he was looking at her with sheer adoration on his face.

“Are you really going to pretend that you and Roxy don’t absolutely love the sweater and collar I got for her?”

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Luke conceded, throwing his hands up in the air in surrender.

Rolling his eyes, Derek turned to Emily. “I didn’t know you had a cat, Emily.”

“Yeah, we rescued him a week ago.”

“We should do a pet play date,” he suggested. “I’ll bring Clooney, Luke, you bring Roxy, Emily, you bring Sergio, we all just meet up at a park and play with pets.”

Everyone instantly agreed that sounded like so much fun, it was a plan.

Albert drove Emily and Tara back at the end of the night, and Emily spent the night again. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” Tara whispered to Emily as they were trying to fall asleep.

“The best. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry your mom missed it.”

Emily considered her position, wrapped in Tara’s arms after having the most amazing party in Penelope’s backyard. Had her mother been there, none of those things would have happened. “You know what? I don’t really care.”

[sc0tters]

Like a Loser | Jack Hughes

summary: what happens when your bet with Jack ends up with you taking your punishment at the dinner table?

kinkmas: day three (sex toys)

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!), swearing, use of sex toys, semi public.

word count: 2.51k

authors note: this series has a special place in my heart if I’m being honest so when I had the chance to bring back Jack x Quinn’s bsf I knew I had to! Ended up writing this all today and I have to say I don’t know what to think about it so I hope you all enjoy the new day of kinkmas!

pt 1 | pt 2

Tonight was a night you and Jack were both looking forward to for such different reasons.

For you it meant you were finally going to see your best friend again after moving to New Jersey just a month ago after accepting the job of your dreams.

But for Jack it meant he finally had the perfect opportunity to call in your punishment for losing a bet. What you thought was harmless saying he wouldn’t score on his game back Jack made sure to make you pay with the gift one of your friends gave you as a gag gift. It was a mini wireless vibrator powered by an app.

You and Jack swore you kept things casual even as you were acting exclusive from the comfort of your apartment. Not even Luke knew about what went on between you.

So as you two grew closer to almost meant that Jack was spending most free nights with you and as you two began to care less he’d swear that all the time he spent with you was just an effort to help you settle in. Like in some way this would have been what Quinn would have wanted as you moved to the states.

That’s how Jack ended up with a smile on his face as he used his spare key to get into your apartment “hey y/n!” Jack called out hearing the sound of your speaker blasting music in your room “in here!” You shot back turning down the music as you continued rubbing cream into your legs. Jack felt his mouth water as he as you had nothing more than a towel wrapped around your body “didn’t think you’d be coming here before tonight.” You pointed out as you thought he would have gone to practice and back home.

Over the last few weeks you had grown to love Jacks company but as you swore you wouldn’t do anything stupid to hurt Quinn, you kept that fact to yourself. Jack let you see the little bag that he held “have a surprise for you.” Jack explained reaching his hand into it “should I be worried?” You teased letting out a laugh that was short lived when your cheeks reddened at the memory of the gift “hey you gonna take your punishment for losing this bet like a good girl or not?” His fingers brushed over your chin as his question weighed on your mind.

With a sigh you nodded “what do you have in mind?” You propped your arms up as you leaned against them letting your freshly styled hair frame your face “if you wear this during dinner I’ll let you come now.” His words made your jaw go slack “and after dinner?” You cocked back as you raised your eyebrows “if you behave then maybe I’ll let you come during it too.” Jack smiled as you spread your legs giving him a view of your cunt as the towel bunched up at your hips.

He leaned down to kiss your lips allowing himself to taste the vanilla lipgloss you coated your lips in “you’re so sweet.” Jack mumbled reaching his hands out to undo your towel “let me see your pretty body.” The hockey player swore he’d never get over the sight of your breasts “please Jack.” His hands toyed with your nipples setting your skin on fire.

Your weight shifted as your body was pressed against your mattress “been thinking about this all fucking week.” You had been in California on business which meant Jack hadn’t seen you “you find someone else in Cali?” He pressed the question as his lips marked up the sides of your thighs “n-no Jack.” You shook your head shivering as his breath fanned your cunt “because you know you’re all mine.” Jack muttered licking a stripe up your slit.

It was warm in the room as jealousy fuelled his actions as Trevor’s voice note talking about how you came to see him “all yours J.” You gasped as his tongue swirled around your clit. Jack wrapped his hands around your legs pulling you closer to him as he began to work on you “fuck you’re so good.” The delicacy of your voice spurred him on as his cock grew hard against his jeans.

Your juices were sweet on his tongue as it acted as encouragement when he lay his tongue flat into your core allowing his nose to hit your clit “shit.” You groaned clutching at your sheets “shouldn’t even be treating you after what you said.” Jack grumbled sending vibrations through your body “d-didn’t mean it.” The words were forced from your lips as you looked down to see him staring back at you.

Like a game of cat and mouse neither one of you were prepared to give up on until he nuzzled his tongue further into your core making his nose hit your clit in consecutive motions “fuck me.” You huffed dropping your head to your bed as your eyes screwed shut “knew you would prove me wrong.” You stammered feeling like your head was going to explode as your legs began to shake “you just wanted a reaction from me?” Jack asked slotting his fingers into your cunt that responded by clenching around him “so responsive.” He cooed kissing your clit.

Your moans echoed off of the walls of your bedroom “like seeing you rough.” Your confession made him smirk as he inserted a third finger into your core “you want to see me push you?” Jack saw a sparkle form in your eyes as you grabbed your boobs feeling his lips wrap around your clit “please Jack.” You begged without a care in the world for how needy you sounded in that moment.

Jack didn’t let his actions slow as he let himself enjoy the sounds of your soft begs “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced clenching around his fingers as your core began to throb “let yourself go baby.” Jacks words came muffled as he didn’t move his head up only adding to your pleasure “don’t stop.” You begged feeing your thighs shake as they pressed against the sides of his head allowing the pleasure to wave over you as you came.

The boy pulled away hearing the sound of your phone go off “think you’re ready for it baby?” Jack asked watching your chest heave “need a mo-ment!” You helped the last part as Jack dragged his thumb over your clit “got to do it whilst your still so wet.” The hockey player leaned down to kiss your lips as he slowly pushed the vibrator into your cunt making sure that his movements on your clit didn’t slow “feel so full.” You blurted out shifting your hips as you began to grow used to the feeling of the vibrator inside of you “I’m gonna have fun with this.” The mischievousness in his voice honestly made you feel nervous to see what he was going to have in mind for you.

The night started off calm though as the two younger Hughes boys followed you into the restaurant where Quinn and the boys parents were already sat “Quinny!” You squealed seeing your best friend for the first time in four weeks “y/n!” Ellen laughed as she watched Quinn pick you up as he spun you around before letting you back to the ground “how was California?” Both that question and the way his hands still sat dangerously low on your waist made Jack feel jealous “she had a great time.” Jack answered for you taking everyone by surprise as you all stood there trying to see what he was playing at.

Ellen reached over to hit her middle son’s shoulder after she hugged him “no yeah he’s right.” You nodded forcing a smile on your lips as you moved to be embraced by Jim. Jack went to grab the seat next to you but Ellen stopped him “you get her all the time, other people want to talk to her too.” She teased slipping into the seat next to you.

Jack was left looking at you from across the table as you were slotted between Ellen and Quinn who was in the middle of talking to Luke about his successful season “see you’ve been enjoying the new job too y/n!” Jim smiled unaware of the glare you sent Jack feeling his foot brush against your ankle “it’s been great and Jersey is.” You sucked at your teeth feeling your core begin to vibrate as Jack looked down to his phone turning on the vibrator.

You settled for a cough trying to recover as you forced your thighs together “being here is really good even if I’m not with Quinny.” The older Hughes boy sent you a smile as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder making Jack increase the speed as he sent you a glare “you look kind of hot.” Quinn pointed out pressing his hand to your forehead as he checked your temperature.

As Jack turned the speed of the vibrator to its lowest setting allowing you to talk properly as any tension built up in between your legs was quickly washed away “it’s just warm in here.” You lied chugging your glass of water down as you wished it was something stronger “now what has been going on with you?” As Quinn was brought into a single conversation with you, Jack made sure that you couldn’t forget him as he continued to screw with the speed of the vibrator not allowing you to get comfortable for too long ever.

Luke had begun to notice the glaring match that went on between you and Jack but he only thought it was the two of you falling back into your old ways of constant bickering until Jack begun to grow careless with hiding his efforts “fuck!” You moaned slapping your hand over your mouth as Jack edged the vibrator to the quickest speed making your soaked cunt throb “i-I need some air.” You announced gripping your fingers at the edge of the table as Jack didn’t decrease the speed enjoying how your teeth caught your lip surprising another moan.

Quinn shot you a look of concern as he moved out of the both to let you out “you okay?” His question was ignored as you made a beeline for the bathroom “maybe I should go check on her.” Ellen announced surprised by your little outburst “no I’ll go.” In that moment as Jack got up Luke finally realised that something was going on between you and his older brother “yeah mom it makes sense.” Luke nodded opting to help Jack “like she loves you but couldn’t give a shit what Jack does.” The last part was met with an elbow from Jack as he got up.

Quinn couldn’t tell what was going on between his brothers but he grew irritated as Jack stayed still “are you gonna go or not?” Quinn rumbled motioning to Jack to hurry up or not go at all. You were in the family bathroom letting the pleasure rush over your body when Jack finally walked in “shit Jack!” You whined as the boy clutched to his phone quickly locking the door behind him “I’m here baby.” Jack cooed beginning to slow it down as he thought that the speed was too much for you and that was why you were reacting like that “don’t you fucking-“ you cut yourself off with a moan as you clutched at his arms trying to steady yourself as you came for the second time that day.

Jack pressed his lips to your temple as he guided your through it holding your hips as your body shook “that’s my good girl.” He cooed hearing the sounds of your whimpers “enough Jack.” You begged feeling your body collapse as you sat on the counter “I know baby.” Jack caught your lips in a kiss as he finally stopped the vibrator turning it off “I’m gonna take it out of you now though okay?” His fingers ran through your hair trying to soothe you as he made you look like you hadn’t just had an earth shattering orgasm.

You shook your head as you continued to breathe “I’ll be gentle.” Jack mumbled kissing your lips as he pushed your panties to the side allowing him to pull the vibrator from your cunt groaning at how your orgasm had soaked your panties “that was hot.” You gasped making him laugh “might have to use it on you again.” Jack proposed as his free hands fingers ran along your jaw as he kissed your lips again this time letting his linger for longer “fuck I need you.” He mumbled into the kiss.

Yet as a knock came at the door it pulled him away from you causing him to groan “can’t you see it’s occupied!” Jack complained rolling his eyes “I just want to know that y/n is okay?” Quinn’s voice was soft making your eyes go wide “I’ll be out in a second!” You called out trying to put his worries to ease.

It made Jack glare at you again as he realised that you would not be sorting out his problem in his pants “okay I’ll wait for you!” Quinn called back causing Jack to roll his eyes as he began to nip at your neck “I’ve got to go Jack.” You mumbled tugging your fingers through his hair “what am I meant to do about this?” Jack mumbled pointing to his obvious erection that if his older brother wasn’t stood outside of that door it would have make your undo his belt.

You got up and fixed your panties as you looked at your lips grabbing a tissue to fix the smudged lipstick “you’ve got a vibrator, use it.” Not once did you ever take Jack as that kind of sex toy user so this was going to be more fun for you than it was going to be for him “you’re gonna regret this.” Jack warned as you walked to the door “I’m sure I will.” You smiled back unlocking it as you let yourself out.

Quinn didn’t take long to hug you again “you sure you’re okay?” He asked as his arm went to your shoulder “of course I am.” You nodded as you pressed a kiss to his cheek appreciating his concern “why is Jack still in there?” Quinn turned to see no sign of his younger brother “oh he needed to wash his hands.” You lied with a shrug hoping that the captain wouldn’t read into it.

It made the older boy stop as he stared at you “so you gonna tell me why you smell and look like you’ve just had sex or not then?” It wasn’t a question he seemed to be asking but more like he was telling you to spill “oops?” You sucked at your teeth realising you had been caught out.

Now how were you gonna explain this one?

[gottagobackintime]

When Obi-Wan bought that cape for Leia and he told her she didn’t need those gloves but then he immediately gave in and bought them for her…

[spenciegoob]

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours. 

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered. 

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend. 

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years. 

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving. 

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis. 

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever. 

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile. 

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary. 

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you. 

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms. 

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly. 

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move. 

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face. 

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear. 

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work. 

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

__

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Requested by: @onlyhereforthefanfics

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[fortheloveofwonderland]

Everyday Angel | Ralvez

My gif

Summary - in the midst of his drug addiction Spencer bumps into a handsome jogger who helps Spencer in more ways than he’ll ever know. Ten years later when he’s introduced to new agent Luke Alvez, there is something so hauntingly familiar about him…

A/N - I’m still chomping my way through all my build-a-blurbs for my milestone celebration which I am still taking requests for. But this idea manifested and begged to be written.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Luke Alvez

Category - heavy angst with a happy ending. Some mentions of NSFW topics so minors DNI.

Content Warnings - heavy drug use, mentions of drug fuelled anonymous sex with multiple partners, brief mention of prison, swearing, Spencer is just a slutty mess, Luke is his unwitting guardian angel.

Word Count - 4.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2007

The air was thick and heavy with the kind of unbridled lust that seeped deep into his veins. Veins that not so long ago had been readied and pumped with the heady substance that set all his nerve endings ablaze. 

Images floated around the edge of his peripherals. Three men? No four. No three. Definitely four. 

The plastic tubing of the makeshift tourniquet still hugged his small bicep. 

No need to remove it. Probably need it again anyway. 

One minute he was on his back and the next his front, his bare chest pressing against the old mattress in the corner of the warehouse. 

Strong hands pinning him down, keeping him in place. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Please.”

It was hard to say which was more euphoric, the liquid heaven entering his veins via the needle or the strong man who entered him in a completely different way. 

His eyes rolled back in his head and a string of wanton moans left his lips only to be soaked up by the mattress beneath him. 

“Harder. Harder. Use me like a fucking toy!” 

A voice entered his ears above the thrumming music from the tinny speakers. His voice? Had he said that? 

He had no idea. 

The air was practically stifling, especially combined with the body heat from the man behind him and the way the drugs swirled and warmed him from the inside. 

He felt like was part of something bigger than himself. He felt on the cusp of some kind of drug addled epiphany. 

As he was pounded into the dirty mattress he swore he was watching the scene from above, watching his strung out form being used and abused. 

And it was so damn hot. 

A hand reached out from the dark, turning his head. He blinked up at the owner of the hand but his eyes were too blurry to focus. 

“Open wide, princess.” 

Another voice. Definitely not his own this time. Probably the owner of the hand. 

He did as he was told, he was good like that, he followed instructions well. 

He parted his lips and the hand fell from his face and another part of the man’s anatomy entered his field of vision. 

He took everything they had to give him. He always did. He was good, he was so good. 

He allowed them to use him the way they saw fit. He was nothing more than a toy and he was happy in that role. 

He wasn’t sure when it ended. He remembered the bitter salty taste on his tongue and suddenly feeling empty at both ends. 

Then he was on his back again, a pair of black eyes staring down at him. 

“More?” 

Fingers tapped his throbbing veins on his left arm. He nodded, no words finding their way out of his throat. 

“Good boy.” 

He hummed happily at the praise being bestowed upon him. 

He was completely unaware of how much time passed before a figure was leaning over him, a needle on a beeline for his vein. 

Yes. Yes. Please. I need it. I need more. 

His toes curled at the prick of the needle and a gasp was thrown from his chest as the drug entered his system. 

More. More. There can never be too much. 

Everything got significantly more hazy after that dose. 

The other bodies in the room that had already been clouded became even more distant. Voices seemed too far away, drowned out by a drumming in his ears. 

My heart? Can I hear my own heart beating? 

His body didn’t feel as though it belonged to him anymore. He was vaguely aware of more men coming out from the shadows, taking it in turns to use him. 

The pleasure was heightened by the drugs, more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. He came multiple times on the already filthy mattress. 

He had a hazy memory of the warehouse emptying and the men departing, leaving him strung out and fucked out just the way he liked it. 

At some point his eyes closed and he succumbed to sleep. Although when his eyes opened again, he didn’t feel rested. 

There was daylight seeping in from a high window at the summit of the warehouse. 

He rubbed his bleary eyes, pushing himself up to a sitting position. 

If he wasn’t still so high he might have realised how much he reeked, of sex, smoke and sweat. 

His shaky yet nimble fingers worked to untie the tubing still secured around his arm. His overused vein throbbed wildly beneath the pale surface of his flesh. The puncture wounds and subsequent track marks glowed like tiny red halos. 

As he forced himself up on trembling legs his body howled in agony. Every inch of him, from his head to his toes to his fingertips ached and throbbed. 

But he liked the pain. The pain was a sign he was at least still alive. 

He gathered up his sodden clothes and dressed at a leisurely pace. He didn’t have anywhere to be and judging by the low level of light it was still early anyway. 

He gave a brief thought to exactly how many times he had been fucked last night. It was certainly more than usual given the tenderness of his body. 

He was probably bruised in the usual places, his wrists, neck and ass cheeks routinely took the brunt of it. 

But he couldn’t get his eyes to focus long enough on any one thing. He’d see later, once he’d sobered up enough. 

He dressed and stumbled towards the metal sliding door he’d entered the warehouse through many hours before. 

He’d been clear headed then, hadn’t seen the world through this blissful drug induced haze when he’d arrived.

His body almost collapsed as he fell through the door and onto the sidewalk. Almost. Certainly would have it wasn’t for whatever that was he’d fallen into. 

A wall? A car? No smaller than that. What…what is this?

A large, firm set of hands found his shoulders and steadied his rag doll form. 

Deep brown eyes glared at him but that was about all he could make out. 

“Are you ok?” A slightly husky voice tickled his ear drums as he squinted against the morning light. 

Ok? Am I ok? Sure, why wouldn’t I be ok? 

He heard his own voice clearly in his ears but the eyes narrowed on him in confusion.

“Are you ok?” The voice repeated. 

Yes. Yes I’m fine. 

The sun was positioned behind the stranger's head, creating a halo around him and casting his face into darkness. 

“Can you tell me your name?” 

Why do you want to know? Who are you? 

“Can you hear me?”

Yes! I’m talking to you aren’t I? 

But of course he wasn’t. It was all in his head. 

He stared dumbly at the man still holding him up right and looking at him in concern. 

“What have you taken?” 

So many fucking drugs. 

His lips parted and finally words came spilling out of his mouth. 

“Are you an angel?” He slurred, eyes glossy with whatever drugs he was on. 

“Uh no. Not exactly.” He made sure the other man was steady on his feet before he let go of him and stepped back. 

His face came into view although it was still fuzzy around the edges. 

He was raven haired with facial hair matching in colour. His skin was like caramel and he had an overwhelming urge to lick every inch of it. 

“You’re…beautiful.” He smiled at the stranger, reaching for him but stumbling again. 

“Can I help you get somewhere? Home maybe?”

The other man waved a dismissive hand with a scoff. 

“I don’t need help where I’m going.” He ran the same hand through his tangled brown curls before stumbling, correcting his footing and then continuing down the street. 

Luke Alvez watched wide eyed as the drugged man careened away, using the walls of buildings to hold himself up right. 

It was barely past six am, he could only assume he’d been on an all night binge. 

He jogged this route nearly every day and he knew it was one of the seedier parts of town but he never usually had any trouble. 

The open door to the warehouse the man had stumbled from was still open and curiosity got the better of him. 

Glancing over his shoulder down the sidewalk and finding it empty, he pushed forward towards the door. 

The warehouse was lit solely by the small amount of sunlight entering from a high up window. But it was enough for him to see the destruction. 

The air was stale and smelt like weed and sex. That was confirmed by the joint butts littering the floor along with several used condoms.  

The old mattress in the corner was a cornucopia of come and blood stains, making Luke’s stomach turn. 

Plastic tubing laid on the dusty ground, empty vials and needles joined them. 

He took a breath before leaning down and picking up one of the vials between his fingertips. 

Dilaudid. Shit, that’s hardcore stuff. 

Before Luke could talk himself out of it, he dropped the vial and quickly darted back onto the street. He jogged down the block, finding the man quite easily as he hadn’t gotten very far. 

Luke found him slumped in a doorway, his forehead pressed against the brick wall and his breathing heaving. 

There was a puddle of vomit at his feet and what looked to be the contents of the man’s pockets nearby. 

Luke collected up the belongings, house keys, two still sealed condoms, another vial of dilaudid and a wallet. 

The man hadn’t seemed to notice him so before he looked up, Luke pocketed the dilaudid with the intention of tossing it later. 

Curiosity getting the better of him once more he flipped open the wallet and dug around until he found the man’s driving licence. 

District of Columbia. 

Spencer Walter Reid. 

DOB: 10/12/1981.

Damn he’s barely twenty six. Just a kid. How did he find himself in this state? 

When Luke looked up from the wallet a set of glossy eyes were staring at him. 

“You’re back angel. Come to show me the light?” 

“Spencer?” Luke attempted his name, hoping it might help bring the boy back to reality. 

“You know me? You must really be an angel. Did I die in there? Is this heaven?” 

Fuck. He’s so far gone. 

“No, Spencer, you’re very much alive. My name is Luke. Can I…you need coffee.” 

Spencer’s eyes narrowed on him as he pushed himself away from the doorway. 

“Coffee.” He mused, wiping the left over bile from his lips on his shirt sleeve. 

“Yeah. Maybe some food. When was the last time you ate?” 

Spencer’s eyes shot off somewhere to the left as though he was trying to pull at a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. 

He shrugged limply. 

“I don’t even know what day it is.” He confessed. 

It was now that Luke looked at him properly he could see how young he was. If Luke didn’t know any better he would have thought him younger than his driver's licence informed him. 

He wore a grey button up under a checkered sweater vest and what were once probably well pressed slacks. He looked like a college student or maybe a TA. 

He certainly didn’t look like a drug addict. 

“Will you come with me? There’s a diner down the street that does the worst coffee but the best bacon and eggs. How does that sound?” Luke offered him a small smile, one he hoped would show Spencer he posed no threat. 

Spencer leant against the wall again, or maybe he fell against, raising an eyebrow at Luke. 

“Why?” He sounded skeptical. “Why do you want to help me? You don’t know me. I’m not your problem.” 

“I didn’t say you were a problem.” Luke shrugged meekly. “Maybe I just want company over breakfast?” 

Spencer seemed to debate this internally for some time, eyes flitting from Luke, to the sky and down to the sidewalk on a loop. 

Eventually he pushed himself away from the wall, stumbling straight into Luke’s strong arms. 

“Maybe after you could use those arms to pin me down while you have your way with me.” Spencer smirked at him, squeezing Luke’s biceps teasingly. 

And goddamn if this man wasn’t as high as a kite Luke may very well have taken him up in that offer. 

Instead he wrapped his arm around Spencer’s tiny waist to keep the man upright and helped him walk in the direction of the diner. 

***

Throughout breakfast Spencer was scatty and haphazard in his movements, knocking mugs and cutlery off of the table every time he gesticulated about something. 

His speech was rampant and slurred and not a lot of what he said made any sense. 

He mentioned a cabin frequently. An archangel. The smell of burning fish to ward off the devil. 

Luke couldn’t piece any of it together. It was likely a delusion concocted in Spencer’s frazzled brain. 

He drank four cups of sugary black coffee leading him to become even more jittery than he was before. 

He wolfed down a huge plate of bacon and eggs and then helped himself to Luke’s too. He even ordered a third plate and still didn’t seem full. 

He looked manic the whole time. He looked like a man on the edge of breakdown. 

Luke couldn’t help but wonder what had gone down in that warehouse. To him it seemed as though this poor kid had been drugged and abused. Maybe that was why he couldn’t quite meet Luke’s gaze. 

Maybe once he come down the weight of what had happened would hit him. And then what? Luke didn’t think he should be on his own for that realisation.

Should he call the cops? The condoms in the warehouse would hold DNA, maybe they could find who did this to Spencer? 

But what if…

…what if Spencer was the abuser? What if all they found in those condoms was Spencer’s DNA and tied to him a string of women he’d drugged and taken advantage of? 

He didn’t seem like the type. But Luke knew nothing about this man. 

Maybe it was just best Luke didn’t get involved. 

Luke paid with absolutely no protest from Spencer. 

After he helped the still high man back out into the sidewalk. 

“Let me call a cab and I’ll take you home.” He reached for Spencer’s shoulder but Spencer stumbled back from him, landing against the diner wall.

“No. I don’t need help. I’m fine.” 

Fine. Just fine. Don’t need help. Don’t need help unless…

“Unless,” a large smirk dawned on his face. “You want to have some fun?”

The statement was just suggestive enough and paired with the way Spencer licked his lip sent a shudder down Luke’s spine. 

“I uh…I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re high and I’m…” I’m what? Not interested? That’s not true. 

“You’re not into dudes. Got it.” Spencer scoffed. 

“You’re high.” Luke repeated rather than replying to that. 

“No shit.” Spencer chuckled, pushing himself back away from the wall. “You ever have sex while you’re high?” 

He was suddenly right in front of Luke, crazed eyes staring into his soul.

“Uh…can’t say I have.” Luke swallowed. 

“Oh boy, it’s just…it’s just the best.” Spencer’s eyes glazed over again. “You feel like your fucking floating on air and then when you come…fuck…there’s no feeling like it.” 

Luke’s confusion showed on his face and if Spencer wasn’t so high he might have registered it. 

Luke didn’t think this sounded much like a man who had been abused at all. So what the fuck went down in that warehouse? 

“Please let me help you home.” He pleaded with the man but Spencer was shaking his head. 

“No, no. If you aren’t going to fuck me, set me free.” Spencer’s lip turned up into a wry smile and before Luke could respond, Spencer turned his back on him and started ambling back down the street. 

Maybe Luke should have gone after him. There was no telling what the man might do in his state. 

But Luke really didn’t want to get involved in this mess. It wasn’t his problem right? 

The kid will be alright, he told himself, not much believing it. 

But nonetheless he turned and faced the opposite end of the street and forced his body to continue his run. 

What a fucked up morning. 

***

2017

Spencer Reid stood in the round table room, case file in his hand as quickly read and reread the file on Daniel Cullen aka the Crimson King. 

He felt rested, relaxed, much more so than the rest of the team. 

While they’d been working on hunting down the thirteen escaped convicts Spencer had been living it up in Paris with his mom. 

He felt a little bad but honestly it had been a much needed break. 

He was still somewhat reeling from the case involving the hit men and his run in with Cat Adam’s. He was still processing Morgan’s departure from the team and his head hadn’t been in the game as much as he needed it to be. 

So when Hotch insisted he take time off of recoup, Spencer hadn’t exactly argued all that much. 

The team had been aided by a fugitive task force agent whom JJ had filled Spencer in on that morning on his return, so he didn’t feel too bad. They’d had help. A fugitive task force agent and ex army ranger was probably more equipped for this than he was anyway. 

Just as he had this thought, he heard footsteps behind him and he turned, file still in hand, as his company entered the room. 

The man looked every bit the part of a ranger turned manhunter, his strong biceps peeking out from a too tight shirt and rugged facial hair. 

“Hi. Luke. Alvez.” A deep, New York accent flooded Spencer’s ears and he was initially floored by the familiarity of it. 

Why do I know that voice? 

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid.” He offered Luke a small wave, trying to flush down whatever strange memory was clawing at the edges of his consciousness. 

Luke felt a tightening in his chest. Spencer Reid. That name set off a distant alarm bell in his head. 

Spencer Reid. Where have I heard that name? 

“Ah. No handshaking right? Your…uh…reputation precedes you.” Luke smiled at him and Spencer felt a recollection somewhere deep in his mind.

Strong coffee. Bacon and eggs. Strong hands steadying his shoulders. 

He shook it off. 

“So does yours. It says here,” he glanced down at the file in his hands. “That you caught our next fugitive Daniel Cullen three years ago? During his sentencing statement he said “I don’t kill because I don’t have to.” He sounds like an injustice collector. How’d you finally catch him?” 

“Cullen was always a suspect, we just couldn’t get an ID. So my partner went deep cover and we uh…caught him in the act. After he broke out in May, I wanted to be the one to put him away again.” Luke was eyeing him curiously. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” 

Spencer swallowed. He was thinking the same. But he just couldn’t place where he’d seen this man before. 

“I don’t think so.” Spencer shook his head, curls bouncing as he did so. 

Luke frowned momentarily as he watched Spencer. 

His eyes were hauntingly familiar but Luke just couldn’t figure it out. 

Maybe he was imagining it. He was sure he would remember those eyes anywhere. But they definitely held some long forgotten, distant memory in his brain. 

Right now they had more important things to tackle, like the Crimson King and finding him and bringing him to justice. Again. 

There would be time for reminiscing later, if that’s even what this was. Maybe over time Luke would figure out where he knew those eyes from. 

If he even did know them at all. 

***

It wasn’t until Spencer’s arrest in Mexico that everything clicked into place for Luke. 

Since he joined the BAU officially he pushed down any thought that he’d once known Spencer, figuring he must have just been imagining it. 

Because the memories he associated with those eyes were of a strung out kid wandering out of a warehouse, barely conscious and hitting on him on the sidewalk when all he’d wanted to do was help. 

And that certainly couldn’t have been Spencer. 

He’d long ago forgotten the name of the drugged up kid he’d taken for breakfast. He’d tried to tuck memories of that morning deep down into his subconscious because if he dwelled on it too much he would have driven himself crazy thinking about the fate of that kid. 

But one look at Spencer in that Mexican holding cell, eyes glazed over from the drugs and slurring his words, Luke knew. 

He looked so much the same as he had that morning ten years ago when he’d come stumbling out of that warehouse. The only difference was he wasn’t a kid anymore and this time the drug consumption hadn’t been his choice. 

And when the team caught wind of his state it prompted talks of Spencer past drug addiction and the fact he didn’t even drink anymore because of it. 

“How long ago was that?” Luke had asked curiously. 

“Uh…about ten years I guess.” Prentiss had shrugged. 

All the pieces slotted into place and Luke knew that Doctor Spencer Reid was that kid he’d tried to help all those years ago whilst out for his morning jog. 

He hadn’t died in a drug fuelled frenzy. He was very much alive and he was an FBI Agent. 

Life is wild. 

Telling Spencer of this discovery was an absolute no go while he was in prison. Maybe he’d never tell him. He wasn’t sure what good it would do anyway. 

It all came to a head a few months after Spencer’s reinstatement with the team on a case in Austin. 

The knock at Luke’s hotel door was tentative as though the person on the other side wasn’t sure he wanted to be heard. 

Luke scrambled out of bed, tossing back on his jeans and t-shirt before opening the door. 

“Can we talk?” Spencer was quick to speak as though he might change his mind. 

“Of course, come in.” Luke stepped aside and allowed the younger man entrance to his room. 

Spencer was slow in his movements, tentative as he shuffled inside the room. 

“What’s up, Reid?” Luke swallowed as the two men stood at opposite sides of the room. 

“I uh…this is going to sound strange.” He pulled a face. “When I first met you I felt something familiar. And it wasn’t until I was drugged in Mexico and looking at you through intoxicated eyes again that it got a little clearer…” 

Luke sighed, so he wasn’t the only one that had remembered. 

“Right. Yeah.”

“I was a fucking mess back then. After everything that happened to me with Hankel, I couldn’t shut it out. People never think about the downsides to having an eidetic memory. I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t forget any of it. Some days I still felt like I was in his cabin. I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid to close my eyes. I remembered every single detail of what happened to me and I needed to forget. The drugs helped me forget. The sex helped take away the pain. It was the only way I knew how to cope.” Spencer seemed to deflate as he spoke, recoiling as he relived the darkest moments of his life. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Spencer. We all have our ways of coping.” Luke cautiously stepped a little closer but not close enough to startle Spencer. 

“I had sex with a lot of men back then. I just never expected to see any of them again.” His cheeks burned and flushed bright red. 

Luke’s eyes widened and he was frantically shaking his head.

“What? No! We didn’t…that’s not how we met.” He insisted, holding his hands up in protest. 

“We…we didn’t?”

“No.” Luke chuckled. “You ran into me when you were leaving this warehouse one day. You were clearly high as fuck and you smelt like…like…”

“Sex and drugs I imagine.” Spencer awkwardly scuffed his toe on the carpet. 

“Something like that. I checked out the warehouse and it was a mess. Used condoms and drug paraphernalia everywhere. I was worried you’d been…taken advantage of. Or that you’d taken advantage of someone else.” Luke found himself flopping onto the bed, running his fingers over his rough facial hair. 

“Everything was consensual, I swear.” 

“You were so high, Spencer. Could you really give consent?” 

“We all were. That was the point. We’d get high and have anonymous sex and never remember anything about each other. It was a way of coping, shutting my mind off.” Spencer took a few steps towards the bed, cogs in his head turning. “You took me for breakfast.” 

“I did.” Luke smiled sadly. “You ate my food.”

“I probably hadn’t eaten in days.” Spencer shrugged, sitting down next to Luke. “You saved my life, Luke.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed on him curiously and Spencer couldn’t comprehend how he’d ever forgotten those eyes. 

“I did?” 

“For days all I could see every time I closed my eyes was the silhouette of you with the sun rising behind you.” 

“You thought I was an angel.” Luke chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure you were. A guardian angel. Something about that encounter made me see that what I was doing was only exacerbating my problem. I genuinely thought you were an angel for a long time and that image in my head helped. 

That was the last night I went to one of those warehouses and let random men use me that way. I still used a couple of times after but only ever at home, alone. And soon after I got myself some help. 

I told Hotch what I’d been going through and he got me into Beltway Clean Cops. I started going to meetings every week and I’m not going to lie, getting clean was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But I held onto that image of a guardian angel, whether it was real or a drug induced hallucination I never knew. Until now.” 

Spencer’s eyes were glossy the way Luke remembered so well but this time it was due to the tears pooling behind them. 

“I always wondered what happened to that kid.” Luke choked a little as he spoke. “I always beat myself up for not trying harder to help him. I was sure he was dead.” 

“Not dead.” Spencer chuckled sadly. “And you did more than you will ever know.”

“You wanted me to do a whole lot more. You tried to hit on me. If you weren’t so high it might have worked.” Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at his admittance.

“Dilaudid makes me…uh…extremely horny.” Spencer blushed too. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“Did you not hear the part where I said it might have worked if you weren’t high?” Luke smirked at him, leaning in a little closer to Spencer. 

Spencer’s eyes bulged a little and his lips parted as a small gasp erupted from his lungs. 

“Oh.” Spencer squeaked. “Oh.” 

A shudder passed up Spencer's spine at the same time his crotch twitched. 

Luke’s pupils were suddenly blown out wide as he slowly leaned in closer. 

He brushed his fingers over Spencer’s jaw and then his cheek which he cupped in his strong hand. 

Spencer relaxed into his hold, melting into a puddle at one touch from Luke Alvez. 

“Promise me you’ll remember me in the morning?” Luke whispered, his breath fanning across Spencer’s face. 

Spencer nodded dumbly, hands working their way to Luke’s muscular shoulders. 

“This is one thing I won’t need an eidetic memory to remember.” Spencer insisted as Luke pressed his lips against Spencer’s in an explosion of longing. 

And as Luke laid Spencer back to the bed, brushing an errant strand of hair out of Spencer’s eyes, the ceiling light created a glowing halo around Luke’s head. 

As Spencer tugged him down to kiss him again, he finally felt he’d found his place in this dark and twisted world. 

He’d found his way into the arms of his guardian angel and there was no way any drug could make him feel this free. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist -

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @sexy-dumpster-fire @thebloomingeagle @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse

Spencer x Luke -

@multixfandomwriter @kuolonsyoja @drayshadow @sassymoon @sinfulspencer

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers as Angels of Virtue

My Brain: Stop thinking about the Angel!Brothers. The Angel!Brothers aren’t real. Like, they’re even less real than usual.

Me: But they are real!! *puts hand over heart* They’re real to me… in my heart…!

My Brain: “Your heart” ain’t in the canon but whatever, good luck with your delusions…

Me: Oh yeah?? Well I’ll show you, Brain!! I can FORCE this to work with the canon!!!

Brain: Nani!?!

Angel of Humility, Lucifer

Lucifer obviously wasn’t the first angel, Michael and Gabriel were there before him so those two had the most hand in “mentoring” him as he grew up.

Lucifer was always Michael’s favorite from the beginning. He was a very mild-mannered and studious kid from the get-go, even if he could be a bit blunt... 

He seemed to always be willing to learn something new and even after he would all but master whatever he practiced, he’d never forget to give credit to the people who taught him along the way. His willingness to step out of the spotlight, despite his many talents, eventually earned him the virtue of “Humility.”

Lucifer was around his pre-teens when Mammon was finally created, slightly too old to be able to grow up with him super closely, but still young enough to be more approachable than Michael or the others when he needed help.

Lucifer loved little Mammon with all his heart and would try to give him advice when he could, but since Michael would keep him busy helping him on most days Mammon was left with little people to socialize with… at least until Levi came along anyway.

As time passed and he grew even older, more and more siblings became added to the family. Lucifer never ignored or forgot about a single one of them. While Michael and others concerned themselves more with the day-to-day work, he’d be the one to check in on everyone and be sure they were alright.

Michael would arrange for a lot of “family activities” while they were all still together and Lucifer would actually enjoy participating. He’d usually volunteer to be the person who’d help the youngest at the table learn how to play a game since he wasn’t very competitive himself. A lot of the goodwill his family still has for him comes from these kinds of memories… No matter what happened afterwards.

Angel of Charity, Mammon

Mammon came around a fair amount of time after Lucifer so he was the youngest angel for quite a while. 

This led him to grow up a little… wilder than the others because he used to do things to get attention. Not big things, but like break a rule here or there to get people noticing you know?

Despite his “problem child” tendencies, no one ever considered Mammon a bad apple or anything. He probably had the most compassionate heart out of all the angels, the kind of kid who offers you one of their toys when they see you’re upset, you know?

As more siblings came into the picture, Mammon had a nasty habit of spoiling them silly. Especially Levi, who was much closer to his age, and ultimately got most of the toys when they would play together and gifts afterwards. Mammon’s selfless attitude towards giving gave him the virtue of “Charity.”

Over time, Mammon began to get more and more dissatisfied with how nice the lives of angels were compared to those of humans and he started making secret trips to the human world to help out the less fortunate. Since this was tiptoeing dangerously close to meddling with human lives, Lucifer was brought in to give Mammon a different outlet for his frustration...

Lucifer placed Mammon in the guardian angel program, allowing him to pick one human whom he could help as much as he liked, so long as he followed the rules. As it would turn out, Mammon took to guardianship swimmingly and stayed in the program right up until their eventual fall… and sort of afterwards too if you think about it.

Angel of Kindness, Leviathan

After Levi was made, Mammon was SO excited to have someone close to his age around that he became his main playmate.

Levi adored Mammon back then, the two were practically inseparable when they were young. The other angels would find them running around together, the more extroverted and lively Mammon leading the way for his his shy, but sweet brother in for whatever they were doing.

When Mammon would come up with any big project ideas, Levi would be the first person he’d ask to be his “partner-in-crime.” Unfortunately, it was still very much one of those “they’re a pair, but they have two braincells between them” kind of dynamics so things would always go south quick.

One day, Mammon was determined to make breakfast for all the other angels so Michael could take a break, so he pulled in Levi to help him. Because neither of them actually knew how to cook, the kitchen turned into a disaster and they both were covered in eggs and flour when Lucifer found them...

As Levi grew up, he more or less became of the unofficial helper and confidant to all the other angels, his siblings included. In time, because he was always so willing to lend a hand with everyone else’s projects, he became pretty skilled at a lot of things as a result. People eventually took note of Levi’s good-nature and named his virtue “Kindness.”

When Mammon started acting up more and more, the other angels would try to discourage Levi from associating with him as much but he’d always be the first to stick up for his older brother. No matter how much he bent the rules, he knew that he had a good heart and always meant well in the end. That, unfortunately, wouldn’t always hold true down the line...

Angel of Chastity, Asmodeus

There was another gap between Levi’s creation and Asmo’s so yet again there was a young angel without anyone their age to play with…

Unlike Mammon’s situation, however, Asmo was at least fortunate enough to have older brothers who understood what that felt like and tried their best to play with him when they could. Lucifer did this in particular because he was worried that Asmo could start acting out like Mammon had all those years ago...

Because of the extra attention, Asmo took to Lucifer very quickly. He saw him sort of how Luke sees Michael for quite a while and wanted to help him as much as he could. Sometimes people would even joke that Asmo was like his shadow, because the little angel would follow him around and mimic whatever he did.

Because they were together so much, Lucifer did a lot to shelter Asmo from the less savory things in life... It wasn’t so much out of prudence as it was brotherly concern for the boy, Mammon was still quarreling with him about the state of the human world and he didn’t want Asmo to go down a similar path... Due to this, Asmo had a very sheltered view on life and his perpetual wide-eyed innocence earned him the virtue of “Chastity.”

After he got a little older, he started wanting to find his own identity apart from Lucifer and that was around the time that the twins were made. 

Though everyone adored the twins, Asmo loved them both most of all! He took on the role of their babysitter and wouldn’t hear anything to the contrary, though he was a much more relaxed guardian than Lucifer had been to him (mostly because he was just so soft for their cute little faces).

Angel of Temperance, Beelzebub

It was a big deal when the twins were created because it’s very rare for two angels to be made so close together, on the same day no less. Beel came first when the sun rose then Belphie second after it fell. 

Asmo was ecstatic to have a younger sibling at last and all of the other brothers were equally delighted. Though Asmo did a lot of their babysitting, Beel was still more closely drawn to Lucifer whenever he would watch them. During those times, he would notice how tired Lucifer would be whenever he got to play with them… this would come to affect him later on.

The twins were always close to each other, naturally, but there were still big differences in their personalities even back then. Beel had always been known for his even-temper and awareness of both others and himself. If Mammon was the kid who’d give you his toys, Beel was the one to listen to your problems (even if he didn’t understand them, like at all).

From a young age, Beel would quietly watch those around him. The Celestial Realm was a demanding environment and a lot of angels had a good deal of work to do... Beel connected the dots that doing all this work all the time led to a lot of stress early on.

Being a caring soul, Beel used this knowledge to intervene when he saw his brothers getting overworked and helped remind them of their limits. This would apply especially to his twin (who was pretty much his patient zero) and Lucifer, who eventually grew to rely on Beel’s advice so much he  made him part of his personal guard. His guidance and insight beyond his years eventually gave him the title of “Temperance.”

Though Beel was protective of everyone, Belphie often got most of his attention because of his tendency to push himself farther than he needed to. It was his desire to see his twin take more breaks that led him to asking Mammon if Belphie could start going to the human world and well… We know where that ends up.

Angel of Diligence, Belphegor

As the younger of the twins, all the other angels considered Belphie to be the baby of the family and treated him as such. Asmo adored him because he was just so cute, so he got coddled A LOT when compared to everyone else.

Belphie differed from his brother by being the more active of the two. While Beel would be comfortable to sit back and watch then lend a hand, Belphie always felt more better just getting up and doing whatever needed done himself, usually with a smile in the process. He would actually have to lean on Beel quite a lot because of this, since his twin could remind him to rest and take breaks.

Combine his cheerful attitude with his cute face and “baby brother” status and Belphie could always get away with quite a lot, even back then. Of all the boys, even Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to be too hard on him. That didn’t really become a problem until he got a little older though...

Beel was worried that Belphie wasn’t getting enough rest, so he convinced Mammon to start taking Belphie out with him when he went to the human world as a guardian angel. He figured that if Belphie was away from work, then he had to rest, right? Mammon agreed and that’s what sparked Belphie’s fascination with the human world to start with.

After getting to go a couple times, he would start working extra hard in order to suck up to Lucifer, Michael, or whoever he could so he could go again. When the other angels started getting concerned that he was spending too much time there, they tried to put a limit on it to keep him home. However, that just lead him to sneaking out and leaving notes for Beel on where to find him if people started noticing...

Beel tried his best to curtail his twin’s trips, but even he couldn’t really tell Belphie no when he needed to hear it. By the time Lilith came around, Belphie was already making regular trips there and back and well… That’s how the story goes.

[bluefirewrites]

'A Floral Fixation’- Juke Florist AU Part 2

Continuation of my last post about Flower Delivery Girl!Julie where she works at her family's flower shop, The Petal Pushers, and ends up making regular deliveries to Luke. 

Note the title is silly. Does not allude to anything else :)

Julie has no clue how one favor for a friend could lead to all of this. 

Ever since her brief stint as a singing telegram as well delivery girl, she’s now playing this... game? Yeah, game is the appropriate word for it. This ‘game’ with Luke Patterson. 

And it would go like this:

There would be a delivery for Luke Patterson, Julie would drop it off, wondering why yet another flower arrangement is being delivered to a 17 year old boy on what seems to be on a regular basis, he offers her a flower, she declines, then leaves.  

Julie's only the messenger, she doesn't see who keeps ordering them for Luke or if Luke's ordering these for someone. She doesn't check the card.

Or she would if there is one. There would usually be a card with each order. Tía nowadays just hands over the flowers with a telling arch of her brows and Julie instantly knows she's pedaling those to Sunset Curve's garage.

But she’s convinced that it really is Luke calling in and making the orders because every delivery she makes to him is always different and every time she would give it to him, he would always ask if they were her favorites. 

Julie found the whole thing amusing, toying with him. But she had made numerous attempts in the past to get him to stop. She couldn’t imagine what kind of strain this would have on his wallet (flowers ain’t cheap), and she didn’t plan to string him on like that. It wasn’t fair. 

But Luke Patterson is determined. 

Why? No clue. By her deeming it a ‘game’ implies that there is a winner. Some sort of prize when they reach the end. 

Whenever that is. 

Maybe she doesn’t want it to end so soon. Not when these deliveries may be an excuse to go see him after school. She doesn’t stick around though. She is on the clock after all. 

In the meantime, she’s good to play. And when Luke Patterson manages to guess her favorite flower (there’s no chance), she will accept it when offered to her. 

So far, it’s been sunflowers, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, and many other kinds of flowers.  

This time, as she pedals up to the garage, it's zinnias in her basket.

And this time, the rest of the band is there.

Julie knocks on the door again and Luke's the first one to reach her. He leans against the entryway, taking the bouquet from her, picking one flower, and tilting it in her direction- the usual dance.

"Zinnias. Tell me that I'm right,"

"Hmm..." she makes the move to take it and Luke brightens...

Only for her hand to land on his forearm instead, where she gives him a couple of pitying pats.

"Nice try," she smirks, swiftly turning on her heel and walking back to her bike.

She could hear Alex and Reggie jeer at Luke's dumbfounded expression, 'ooooh'-ing at her trick.

Luke, after shooting his friends a glare and tossing the bouquet at them, he catches up to her as she mounts her bike.

"I'm getting close, aren't I?"

"What makes you think that?" She ensures the rest of her deliveries are secure in the back and front, pretending not to know what he's talking about.

"You're not a dainty flower girl. I know that for sure. That's not who you are."

Julie squints at him, "We haven't started talking until now. How can you say that 'know' me?"

"I heard you sing," Luke says. That makes her bristle slightly. "Trust me. I know everything I need to know about you from that. And with that powerhouse of a voice? No way you'd be a daisy or a daffodil."

Julie tries not to smile, not wanting to give any indication that he was heading in the right direction. The compliment, however delivered in his own Luke way, nearly makes her grin. Yet, it’s the singing part that reminds her way she’s been keeping the boy at arm’s reach and not outright telling him her favorite. 

She and music have a complicated relationship at the moment. Her singing the first time she was here had been a one off. If Luke’s expecting her to belt out songs constantly and be as passionate about music as he is, then he’ll be sorely disappointed. 

And Julie’s done disappointing people. She’d rather do something new. Even though a really cute guy is humoring her with these antics. 

“You know there’s over 300,000 species of flowers?”

“352,000″

Julie raises an eyebrow. 

“I research,” he proclaims proudly, rocking on his heels. 

Wow, he’s really pushing this. 

“What are you getting out of this, Luke?”

“Maybe I’m just very interested in... flowers?” 

“Uh-huh,” Julie purses her lips, reading between the lines, “Flowers. Right.”

“And I’m gonna continue to feed that interest... as long as it takes,” 

“Or as long as your allowance can take it. Do you even have a job?” 

“I work at the diner. But,” he sidles up to her, “If you’re so concerned about my funds, then maybe give me a hint? This can all be over quicker if you’re so eager to get rid of me.” 

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her roll her eyes. This boy... 

"I guess..." Julie debates internally, "I guess you can cross small flowers off," she ends up admitting.

"Ha!" he jumps, "I was right!”

“Still not the right flower though,” she reminds him.

“Nah that's a victory for today and I'll take it,"

She shakes her head at him, "You’re ridiculous,"

“See you next week then?” 

"Oh my god, Julie goes ahead and embarks on her bike, “More business for us, then. Be seeing you, Patterson.” 

She rides down the street is about to turn the corner when she hears faint yelling from behind her. 

"Your voice does sell more flowers!"

Stopping by the neighbors yard and looks back, "What?” 

It’s Luke, standing in the driveway still. He cups his hands and shouts, “I was right!” 

“What?” she answers back. 

Now that does it. And she breaks out into a laugh, throwing her head back as she does. Luke Patterson- what a clown. 

Julie promptly bikes away, and when she returns to the store, Tía clocks her smile immediately and asks about their favorite customer.

“An idiot, as always,” Julie reports back. 

A cute idiot. 

Tía hums something Julie couldn’t comprehend. Then she returns to pruning the flowers. Julie helps her. 

“Well... whoever that young man is. He must have a really special girl in his life. To be ordering this many flowers.” 

“Yeah... I guess,” Julie agrees, absentmindedly, focusing more on the task at hand. 

“And I hope that girl knows just how special she is too,” 

“Yeah- wait. Huh?”

Julie doesn’t get anymore out of her aunt that day, just knowing glances as if she’s meant to be in on this inside joke, but she isn’t. 

Oh well. 

And when she spots Luke the next day at school, he breezes past her, smiling, hints of floral scents radiating from his person. Much like how the shop would smell. 

“Mornin’, Flower Girl,” he greets, tipping an imaginary hat her way.

“Morning, Diner Boy,” she shoots back, taking satisfaction from how thrown off Luke looks by her response.

He recovers and shoots her a wink, “Touchè”

Hey! If he knew what her job was, then she should too. And use it to her advantage. Maybe go to his work and tease him there, pester him about his favorite order, maybe and not be a passive player in this game they have.  

Now wouldn’t that be a fun idea...

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles  @thedeathdeelers @ruzek-halstead @pink-flame, @ourstarscollided, @nottheleastbrave, @echocharm17618 @smolfangirl @garc-i-a @simp-for-julie-molina @teenagepeanutbird @ifitsallyoudo @fandomscraziness22 @writerownstory​ @heademptynothoughts​ @writeineveryemptyspace​

[maddiwrites]

Family and Hope

Pairing: Routledge!Reader x JJ (Kinda) 

Summary: A month after your brother disappeared, you’re confronted by someone you never thought you would see again, forcing you to come to terms with reality.

Note: I made this a reader x JJ pairing but the focus is more on the relationship with the person who’s introduced in this fic! Also if you haven't yet, go over to my page and read my OBX rewrite and let me know what you think (:

Word Count: 4.2k (Do I know how to write a short fic? No.)

You’ll never forget the day that Shoupe told you he and the FBI “lost” your brother. “Lost” them. Like they were a toddler’s toy that had just been misplaced. No one knew if they were dead or alive, but most made the conclusion that they were never coming back. 

You were ultimately left with no family. After you dad disappeared, all you had was John B. And just like that, he was gone too. Your legal guardian, Ward Cameron, obviously threw you out. But it didn’t take much effort because you weren’t going to go back there anyway. See Ward, whether it be on the streets or on the Local News, nauseated you to no end. You knew he was the reason your dad and brother were gone. The greedy mother fucker would do anything to sit on the highest throne of success and fortune - even going as far as murder. And you knew this world well enough to know that he would never face the consequences of his actions. Because he’s wealthy with an outstanding reputation on this island. And if that wasn’t enough, people now felt sorry for him because his daughter was gone, and everyone blamed that on John B.

Although you were left with no blood relatives, you continue to be surprised by how far your real family would go for you. Mr. Heyward, although always disapproving of you and your friends’ antics, offered to take you in. He promised a roof over your head and food on the table until you turned eighteen so you wouldn’t have to experience foster care. You couldn’t be more grateful especially knowing that he already struggled to support his wife and only kid. 

You tried your hardest to continue living your life as normal as possible. Most days, you pretended like your brother wasn’t even dead. He was just gone. On vacation. Living life. He was coming back. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. You sound like John B when your dad first disappeared. The police called you crazy. Your friends felt sorry for you. But you didn’t care. You weren’t going to give up hope.

Your boyfriend, JJ, tried his best to be supportive, but he was drowning in his own sorrow and grief. He lost his best friend too and truly believed he was never coming back. It was hard for him to get out of bed in the mornings. He was fired from his hotel job, and the couple of people who still let him mow his lawn barely talked to him. The beatings from his dad were worse than ever. Luke almost killed him when he heard it was The Phantom that had sunk. The only reason JJ is still breathing is because the police showed up after one of their neighbors called in for a noise complaint. Since the Chateau was no longer a safe escape - always being investigated by the police - he was stuck in his own home. Luckily, his dad was gone most days, which allowed you to sneak in every once in a while.

You brought him food and water whenever you could, always checking for Luke’s pick up truck before sneaking in through the window. Although you hated how depressed JJ was, it gave you something to focus on. Helping JJ with his every day tasks helped distract you from thinking about your own feelings about John B’s loss. 

Even though it was hard to tell, JJ worried about you. You were running from his house, to Kie’s, to Pope’s, finding anyone and anything to avoid your own feelings about your brother. He was afraid that one of these days you were gonna break. And he was terrified because he didn’t know what would trigger that reaction. 

~ ~ ~

“Oh, good. You’re up,” You crawled through JJ’s window and watched him sip on a PBR can as he looked for a shirt that didn’t smell completely awful. You forced a smile when JJ barely glanced at you and set the coffees and two granola bars on his night stand. “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s all I could afford right now.”

Kie’s father basically fired you from the Wreck, telling you nicely that you were scaring people away. At the end of the day, everyone on the island thought you helped a murderer escape. A murderer you were related to. So you’ve been working for Heyward behind the the counter, making less than minimum wage. 

“Okay...” you drawled out. “Well, I have to get going. Heyward needs me their early, but maybe we can go somewhere tonight? Smoke on the beach or something? Just the two of us.”

JJ looked at you sadly, wanting to say something. But he thought maybe tonight would be better. You were in a good mood - a facade he knew you put on every day to avoid talking about your family. He hated seeing you cry, but he thought if he broke down your walls now, it would help you heal faster. Even if you thought you didn’t need to heal.

But instead, he just nodded and let you leave without saying “goodbye” or “I love you.” A phrase he hasn’t mentioned since John B disappeared. 

You kissed him on the cheek and walked yourself out the front door, ignoring the crack in your heart when JJ turned away from you.

~ ~ ~

A couple hours later, JJ was waking up from another nap when Pope blew up his phone with missed calls and text messages. At first, he immediately thought of the worse possible case scenario. Something happened to you or maybe even Kie. He even let his mind wander to the possibility that they found John B’s body. But instead, what he read, only left him completely confused. 

He rushed over to Heyward’s, hoping to beat you there. 

~ ~ ~

Mr. Heyward didn’t know what to expect when his former friend showed up at his door. He was mixed with all different emotions. Relieved, confused, scared. Behind her was a man about his age. Tall, fair skinned, hair slicked back, and dressed in slacks and a button down shirt. 

“Caroline....what are you doing here?”

“I hear my daughter is living with you now. I was hoping I’d be able to see her,” Your mother admitted, feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed. “May I come in?” Heyward told himself he should slam the door in her face and tell her to go back to wherever the hell she came from. She used to be his friend, then out of nowhere, she up and left her entire family behind, without another word to them or any of her friends. He was hurt and betrayed, and he knew if he was feeling this way, he could only imagine how you would feel. 

But although Heyward loved you like his own, he felt wrong hiding your mother from you. It wasn’t his decision to make whether or not you got to confront her. 

He opened the door wider for her and her husband, he assumed, to enter. Heyward ignored their judgmental gazes as they inspected his home and called out for his wife. 

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the blonde hair she remembered so clearly. You were a spitting image of your mother. Long blonde hair, a button nose, and perfectly straight teeth. The one thing you didn’t get from her though was her selfish personality. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” She seethed. Mrs. Heyward loved you like a daughter and felt protective when someone who hurt you so badly in the past came back. 

“Honey...” Mr. Heyward placed a light hand on her shoulder to comfort her and then motioned for the two seats at their kitchen table for your mother and her husband to take.

“Y/N’s not here,” Mrs. Heyward glared. 

“Anne, I know you don’t think I have any right to be here -”

“Right?” 

“But she’s my daughter!” Your mother protested with tears in her eyes. 

Your mother grew up on the Cut too, and just like you, she was able to charm her way into anything. A job, a relationship, a better test grade. There was a time when Caroline, John, Anne and Heyward would cause mischief in Kildare County. But unlike the rest of the group, she was always interested in getting out of the Outer Banks and starting a life somewhere else. She knew she was settling when she married John Routledge so the second a better opuurtunity came around, she didn’t hesitate to take it. Even if it mean’t leaving her family behind. 

“Mom...” Pope walked out from the hallway and looked between Caroline and the man next to her who had his hand on her thigh. He never met Y/N and John B’s mother. Never even seen a picture of her. But looking at her, it was clear to him that this was their mother. You looked just like her, he thought. 

“Pope, this is Caroline...” Heyward hesitated and looked at the woman for clarification. 

“Bennett.” She confirmed and placed her hand on top of her husband’s, interlacing their fingers. “I’m Y/N’s mom.”

Pope noticed how she didn’t even mention John B. He wondered how cold a woman had to be to not even mention her dead son’s name. 

“Go to your room, Pope,” His mother said softly. 

Pope nodded and glanced one last time at Caroline and the man next to her before pulling his phone out of his back pocket and texting JJ. He knew Y/N wasn’t going to take well to the news that her mother was in town. All her life, he heard Y/N saying nothing but horrible things about the woman. You hated her. 

He waited in his room until he heard the familiar revving of JJ’s bike outside his house. Pope ran to the front door before his father could push JJ away. JJ stormed into the house and stopped when he was face to face with the woman he’s grown to hate too. Just like you had with his mother. 

“JJ -” Heyward stood up and approached the boy, but JJ flinched out of his grasp.

“You shouldn't be here,” JJ pointed at her. 

“I- I’m sorry. Who -”

“This is JJ. Pope’s friend -” Anne tried explaining.

“And Y/N’s boyfriend, and I’m telling you right now, she won’t want to see you.”

Caroline nodded as if she understood where JJ was coming from. But Caroline was use to getting what she wanted. Now more than ever. And she wasn’t leaving OBX without seeing her daughter. Maybe even convincing her to come home with them.

“JJ -” Heyward tried to say again, but the room grew silent when the front door creaked open again, which only meant that you were home.

“Hey! Who’s car is out front? I’ve never seen...” You slowly came to a halt when you were met with Heyward, Anne, Pope, and JJ all staring at you with pity and concern. You laughed nervously. “What -” But then you saw her. The woman and her husband at the kitchen table as if they were here for a glass of wine and friendly conversation. 

You recognized her mom immediately from old photographs your dad refused to throw away throughout the entirety of his life. You use to think she was beautiful. Sometimes, you were even jealous of how she was able to look amazing in every picture. Extremely photogenic. 

You never thought about what you would do if you ever saw her again. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face with the person you grew up hating more than the entire population of Kooks. But you stared into the same pale blue eyes you saw every time you looked in the mirror and your skin burned with rage. 

“What the hell is this?” You looked at Heyward for some answers, ignoring her presence overall. 

Heyward coughed awkwardly. “Caroline was hoping to speak with you.”

“About what?” Heyward glanced back at Caroline. He truly didn’t know why she was here. They hadn’t gotten there yet. 

JJ stepped in front of you and pulled you in close so his mouth was next to your ear. “We can leave.” 

“No,” You shook your head and stepped away from him to get a good look at your mother. “No. I want to know what you’re doing here. What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

“Sweetie, I know you have every right to hate me. But I come here in peace -” Your mother tried explaining, but you cut her off.

“Peace?” You scoffed. “Where the hell have you even been?” “Georgia,” She said. Your mouth dropped open in shock. She was only a couple states below you. “This is Byron, my husband.” You clenched your teeth together and held your stare on the two of them. You didn’t know who you hated more. Your mother or the man who took her away from you. Your mother sighed and looked down at her intertwined fingers with her husband. “I heard about your brother on the News.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You rolled your eyes. She sounded more like a sympathetic neighbor than a mourning mother. She talked about John B as if he wasn’t her blood too.

“I came here as soon as I could -”

“That was a month ago!” You raised your voice.

“I know,” Your mother choked, starting to get flustered. “I got caught up with work and -” It’s been a while since someone put her in her place. 

“Work? You knew about John B and you cared more about your work? What the hell do you even do, Martha Stewart?”

“Y/N...” Anne said softly, pulling you out of your dark head and reminding you to take a breath. Anne didn’t like her either, but all this yelling wouldn’t get either of you anywhere. 

“Fine,” You took the seat across the table from Caroline and leaned back on it with your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Your here now. So tell me what for. We’re not having a funeral for John B. Not until I see a body.”

Caroline looked at her husband for some sort of encouragement. Although he was unsure now more than ever, Byron subtly nodded his head for his wife to tell her daughter the reason they came up here. “Byron and I...we want you to come home.”

“Home?” You cocked a brow.

“With us,” Byron added. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle - really belly laugh at what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe the ridiculous suggestion she made. You were astounded that she even thought you would agree. 

“We’ve seen the News and read the papers. I mean the stuff you kids have been through -”

“That’s enough,” You stood up.

“We have a beautiful home. You’d have your own room, a pool in the backyard. We even have two other daughters! Ten and seven. They’re excited to meet you.”

You tried your best to ignore her as you grabbed JJ’s arm to pull him out with you. But everything she said was like a ringing in your ears you couldn’t escape. Little did Caroline know, each luxury she threw at you felt like a stab in the back. 

“I’m outta here -”

“Y/N Y/M/N Routledge! I am your mother!” Caroline stood up, her chair screeching against the hardwood. She slapped her palm against the wooden table and narrowed her eyes at her daughter. In her own head, she couldn’t believe how ungrateful you were. She was offering you a new and better life - one that wouldn’t make you dress like your entire wardrobe was from the thrift store, or sleep on your friend’s couch, or be looked at every day as a criminal. She was offering you a new beginning with the only blood relative you had left and you were gonna turn your back on her?

You swiveled on your heels so fast that your head started spinning. Your vision clouded with the color red and your fists clenched against your side. You glared at the woman who gave birth to you - hating how she acted as if she knew what was best for you when she didn’t even know you at all. 

“I don’t have a mother!” You screamed. “She turned her back on us when we were three! I don’t even know you. The only reason I recognized you is because my dad kept pictures of you in frames in his office.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you shook your head. “And I felt sorry for him that he still held onto memories of the woman who seemed so useless.”

Your voice cracked and you hated that you sounded so weak. You wondered what John B would say if he was standing next to you right now. He’d probably be more calm. He’d probably listen to what your mother had to offer and then kindly tell her that the two of you were better off without her. John B use to always keep you grounded. He calmed you down when you were on a rampage or feeling panicked. He taught you reason and discipline. Without him, you had none of that.

“You left,” You continued. “You turned your back on us when we were three. And Dad? He had no idea what he was doing. The man could barely hold a job let alone two kids. But unlike you, he did it. Hell, he even bought me my first box of tampons! He held me through my first heartbreak and taught me how to surf. And just like that,” You snapped your fingers, “he was gone. And you, my so-called mother, still didn’t show up. So John B and I...we became our own parent. We paid the bills, worked our asses off to pay the rent, and passed our classes. I learned to fend for myself because you weren’t there! You didn’t do shit for our family.” You pointed to yourself. “I did. I took care of us.”

“That’s not fair...” Your mother’s voice shook. She couldn’t even look at you as she became so overwhelmed with shame and guilt. 

“Not fair?” You bent down so you were eye level with her and looked at her like she had just grown two heads. “You just listed off all the amazing luxuries you have while I was left with absolutely nothing and you want to talk about what is fair?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bryon stepped in and stood up from his seat, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder to try to comfort her.

“No, I’m just getting started,” You glared at him. “And I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and her. And I know she grew up on the Cut and is more than capable of fighting her own battles.” You averted your attention back to your mother. “You don’t get to waltz into my life over ten years later and pretend like nothing’s happened. My dad’s dead and my brother probably is too! I have no one left, but the family right here.” You point to the people behind you. Mr and Mrs Heyward, Pope, and JJ. “And I’ll choose these people over you every single time. So no. You’re not my mother.” You looked her up and down. “You’re nothing to me.”

You spun around on your heels and grabbed your back pack on the way out. 

“Y/N...” Mrs. Heyward tried calling out to you, but no one really tried to stop you. They knew you needed to get out from under the same roof as your mother, the woman behind all your anger. 

“I got her...” JJ told the Heyward family quietly. He glanced at Pope, who nodded once at him, before walking out of the house to find you. Only you were already gone and your bike was missing. 

Your feet moved faster than your head. You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you had to get as far away from that woman as possible. Your tears made your vision all blurry and your brain pounded against your skull. Your throat felt like sandpaper with every heavy breath you took. 

You practically fell off your bike in front of the one place you had been avoiding for weeks. It looked just like how you had left it, only now it was wrapped in yellow caution tape. Shockingly, no one was here. No police, FBI, or any other government official. It was just you and your thoughts. 

You pulled the squeaky porch door open and were immediately flooded with memories. Empty beer cans and the butt of old cigarettes and blunts littered the floor like you were all lounging here yesterday. Guess CSI doesn’t hire a clean up crew when they are done. 

You took another step into your house. Your brother’s room was to your right, his door open, enticing you to go in. But you couldn’t. Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought of John B. He should have been here. He should have never left! How could he? He was your brother. Your older brother, even if it was only by a few minutes. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to scare off all the boys who showed interest in you, yell at you when you’re bathing suit showed too much skin, take care of you when you were sick, help you with your homework, be the cool uncle to your kids one day. And he was gone. Everyone was gone!

You didn’t remember how it happened, but you were in your dad’s office. This place use to be a mystery to you - a room where your Dad hid most of the time and locked when he wasn’t home. You always wondered what was so special about this room. Now you knew it was nothing. It was a curse. This room was the reason your dad and brother were gone. 

A screech ripped from your throat as your swept your arms across your father’s desk. Everything on top, papers, paper weights, pens, folders, all clattered to the floor. With all your strength, you flipped the desk over on its side. The wooden floor rumbled under your feet when it fell with a bang. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. You stepped back until your back hit the wall. Your fingers raked through the hair near your scalp and you pulled on the roots. You body slid down the wall until you were on the ground. You cried into your knees, weeping for your brother and dad. You have never felt pain like this before. You were physically healthy but it felt like someone took a vacuum into your body and was sucking the life out of you. 

You didn’t even hear anyone else come into the house over your loud sobs. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around you that you looked up. JJ pulled you into his chest, curling you so that your body fit perfectly against his. He whispered against your head and kissed it after every sentence. He told you it was going to be okay. 

“He can’t be gone,” You cried into JJ’s shoulder. “It’s not fair!”

“I know,” JJ mumbled against your hair and pulled you in tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” He felt like the worst boyfriend ever. He knew this day would come and he took advantage of you avoiding your own grief by drowning in his own. He should have been taking care of you, making you open up about your brother so that it didn’t all hit you at once like it did now. 

“I have no one.”

“No,” JJ shook his head. “That’s not true. You have me. Pope and Kie, we’re all going to be here for you. And screw your mom. You don’t need her anyway.”

For a split second, you forgot about your mom and how she wanted to take you back to Georgia. But you knew she wasn’t your real family. Not anymore. You were right when you said you had all the family you needed. The Heywards, Pope, Kie, JJ. You weren’t alone. You still had them.

“I’m sorry,” JJ said again. “I should have - I should have done something. I should have been there for you -”

“It’s okay,” You placed your hand delicately under his jaw to make him look at you. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you.” Your heart swelled, forgetting the way those three words made you feel. Safe, loved, comforted. “And if John B’s out there, he’s going to come back.” JJ remembered the promise John B made him swear by before he left with the Phantom. How he made JJ promise to protect you no matter what. Even if you were to go through a nasty break up. He was supposed to be there for you. “There’s still hope.”

“Hope,” You repeated, tasting the word on your tongue. You still had hope.

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 5: Age 16 

Luke and Thalia break up on homecoming night. 

It’s only an hour into the night when Percy watches Luke drag Thalia out of the hall and into the parking lot. Even though it’s been months since Percy has hung out with either of them, he keeps an eye on the two, watching as their silhouettes point accusatory fingers at each other. 

Annabeth and Grover, who he came to the dance with, are swaying playfully on the dance floor, but he waves them over and nods to the open door that Thalia left, exposing her and Luke as they shout at each other. 

“Should we check on them?” Grover asks, biting his thumb anxiously. Percy shrugs and watches Annabeth. Well, at this point, he’s always watching Annabeth, especially tonight because she’s in a dress he’s never seen before, and it’s the colour of the sea, his favourite. 

“Annabeth?”

“It’s not our business,” she says softly, but her eyes never leave the couple. Percy nods, and keeps his eyes trained on them, worry growing in his throat as Thalia steps closer to Luke, getting in his personal space. 

Even from here, Percy can feel Luke’s anger, it’s potent and vile and he almost doesn’t recognise it on his old friend’s face. He’s about to tell Annabeth that they should intervene when someone lightly taps him on the shoulder. He whirls around, surprised, and forces a smile onto his face when he sees that it’s Rachel Elizabeth Dare. 

“Hey Percy.” 

Her voice catches Grover and Annabeth’s attention and they both turn to look at her as well. She doesn’t buckle under their gaze, keeping her bright eyes on Percy like she’s on a mission. 

“Hey Rachel, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to dance?” She says it confidently, but as soon as she’s done, she bites her lip and starts swaying back and forth on her feet like she can’t stand still. 

Dread fills Percy’s body and he struggles to come up with a nice way to say no because he really does not want to dance, not right now. 

Rachel must see it on his face because she gives him a sad smile and nods slowly. More dread fills his body and he glances anxiously to his friends at his side who are also waiting for an answer. Annabeth is frowning deeply and Grover has this sort of amused look on his face. 

“Right, that’s okay, uh, have a nice-” She starts and begins to walk away. Percy sighs and quickly reaches out, grabbing her wrist, when she pulls back he lets go quickly and holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait- Rachel. Sorry,” he stutters unsure of why he stopped her. He can feel his friends gaze on him as he speaks to Rachel but he doesn’t turn, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Rachel asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

“Yes, I’ll dance.” Her face instantly brightens and he holds out a hand, which she takes. 

Before he properly leaves, he quickly turns to Grover and Annabeth, whose mouth is wide open. 

“Come get me if something happens with Thals and Luke.” Grover nods but Annabeth just stares after him like he’s speaking another language. He ignores the tight knot in his stomach and lets Rachel lead him to the dance floor, placing his hands lightly on her waist. 

“What made you change your mind?” 

“Hmm?”

“You weren’t going to dance with me, what made you change your mind?” Percy blushes at the bluntness of her words and tries to come up with another excuse. As they’re swaying to the music, he steps back and spins her a bit as the song reaches the chorus.

When he can’t think of an excuse he tells the truth. 

“I wanted to see if I would feel a difference.” Rachel frowns and tilts her head at him confused. “I- uh, like someone else, and I’ve been trying to stop. I thought maybe if I danced with someone else I would feel different about them.” 

“Why do you want to stop liking them?” Rachel doesn’t even seem fazed that he’s just confessed he likes someone else. 

“Because she, I don’t know, I think she likes someone else, but she doesn’t realise it. So it’s just easier if I don’t like her.” Rachel loops her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, so close he can smell her floral perfume. It matches the brightly coloured flowers on her dress. 

“Well if I’m not mistaken, Annabeth hasn’t taken her eyes off of us the entire dance so I think you’re all good Percy.” 

“What?” Instantly he pulls his gaze away from Rachel and turns around wildly to look at where he last saw Annabeth. She’s not looking when he sees her, but he does catch sight of her flicking quick glances at him in between her conversation with Grover as the song ends and as Rachel walks him back to them. 

“How’d you know?” He asks Rachel, trying to figure out what gave him away. 

“Just a feeling. You should tell her.” When Percy doesn’t answer Rachel smiles and wiggles her fingers as a goodbye. “Thanks for the dance Percy, I’ll see you around.” 

He lifts a hand up as well, still too surprised at how easily she was able to read him. 

“Have fun?” Annabeth asks with pursed lips. 

Percy shrugs, “Yeah I guess. She’s pretty cool.” 

“Hmph.” 

Annabeth turns back to facing the door so that she can watch Thalia and Luke (who are still fighting) while Percy turns to Grover behind her back and tries to ask Grover what her problem is via extreme facial expressions. Grover scrunches his shoulders up and shrugs, saying he doesn’t know and Percy sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Out of nowhere, Annabeth’s hand slaps his wrist. 

“Hey!”

“Stop messing up your hair.” She says, without turning to him. 

“Who are you, my Mom?” He asks and keeps messing it up because it feels weird all gelled down and sticky. 

“No but you never have your hair like that and I want nice photos of us later.” 

“I look like an idiot.”

“That’s because you are, Seaweed Brain.” 

“Whatever.”

“Oh shut-”

A loud crack catches both of their attention and they both turn to the direction of the sound and see Thalia standing at the doorway, her fury tangible in her stance as she walks towards them. Behind her Percy barely glimpses a look at Luke who is cradling his face, blood seeping from his nose, where Percy assumes Thalia has just punched him. 

He doesn’t even fully register that she’s come up to them until she’s talking. 

“I know you probably hate me right now, but I can’t be here anymore. I’ll explain everything, but can one of you take me home please.” 

Annabeth is already opening her purse and handing the keys to Percy. He’s the better driver out of the two, and she’s already wrapping her arms around Thalia, who is fighting back tears. 

In less than 5 minutes the four of them are packed in Annabeth’s Dad’s old car and Percy is carefully pulling out of the parking lot and taking them to Annabeth’s house. 

Thalia doesn’t speak until they’re all situated in Annabeth’s room. Percy has taken off his second-hand suit jacket, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and Grover is pulling clothes from Annabeth’s drawer, throwing pieces at Percy so they can both change into comfier clothes. 

As he’s about to change Annabeth pokes him sharply. 

“Photos Percy!” She reminds, and he rolls his eyes, rebuttoning his shirt. 

Thalia waits for them to settle, Percy and Annabeth on her bed, and Grover on the window sill before she speaks. 

“Okay, so I want to start by saying sorry. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to any of you and I totally get if you hate me for that, but I do have a reason, but also it’s okay if you don’t forgive me because I wouldn’t forgive me either.” 

“Thals,” Annabeth whispers. She looks like she’s about to cry and Percy can see her hands fidgeting like they want to move and grab something. He reaches over to her bedside table and gives her a fidget toy, and then carefully takes her other hand, rubbing soothing circles around the top of her palm. 

She doesn’t say anything, but she squeezes his palm in thanks. 

“Let me talk first Annabeth before you say anything. I want to make sure I say this all right.” 

So she talks. Thalia starts from the beginning, how she’s always loved Luke, and how when he moved, she called him each day, and they never lost contact, and how him turning up wasn’t a surprise to her because they’d been talking about it for months already. She talks about how it was her first relationship with someone ever, and she’d never liked someone this much in her life, so she didn’t realise that spending every breathing moment with him wasn’t normal. At one point Thalia takes off her suit jacket and loosens her own tie. Annabeth offers a change of clothes but Thalia shakes her head, determined to continue with the story. She continues to say that Luke started acting differently when they officially started dating, started telling Thalia not to hang out with them because he only wanted to spend time with her, and that they were saying things about her behind her back. 

“I knew it wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to fight with him, everything felt so perfect when we were together. I just wanted us to not fight. So I let him pull me away from you guys.” 

This time when Annabeth squeezes Percy’s hand, it’s in warning, because he realises that he’s using her hand as a stress ball. He apologises silently by letting go, and loosely threading their fingers together so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt her. 

“It didn’t get bad until last summer when I told him that I missed you guys and that I wanted to be friends with you again. It got even worse when I told him that I might like girls as well as guys.” 

Percy sees her hold her breath as she says the last part and feels his face split open into a grin. 

“Me too,” he says simply and the smile that Thalia gives him back is enough for Percy to forgive her of everything. I’m proud of you, he mouths so that he doesn’t interrupt her story. 

“I don’t know why it was such a big issue, but he kept bringing it up. He never went a day without saying something about it, and it was never nice. I hated it. He made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to like both, and I realised that I just wasn’t happy with him. I was so sad all the time, and all I wanted was to talk to you guys but he was always there. At the gym tonight, I knew that the only way he’d actually let me break up with him was if it was public. So that’s what I did.” 

Annabeth pushes off the bed and throws herself onto Thalia. Percy and Grover are quick to follow until they’re a tangle of limbs, suits and dress (in Annabeth’s case) on the ground. Grover and Thalia are crying and holding each other tightly, and Annabeth has wrapped her arms around Thalia’s torso. It kind of reminds Percy of a koala and he pulls out his phone to take a photo of the three of them, immortalising this moment. 

“So what did he think when you showed up wearing that?” Percy asks, nodding at the fitted suit Thalia wears, “Looks awesome by the way,” he adds.

Thalia scoffs. 

“I thought his head was going to explode.” They all laugh and Percy rejoins them on the floor, ending up laying in Annabeth’s lap as they all hold onto each other, making up for time wasted. 

“I can’t believe Luke is such a jackass,” Percy says with a shake of his head. 

“Do you think he had a particular reason why he was like that towards you Thals? Is there something happening at his home?” Annabeth asks and Percy turns to her with an incredulous look. 

“Wise Girl, come on, no matter how crappy a person's home life is, that doesn’t mean you can project that onto someone you care about. Like look at me, you don’t see me being an ass to you just because Gabe was the worst step-father in the world.” 

“What happened with Gabe?” Thalia asks, sitting up abruptly when she hears his name but Percy waves her off. 

“Nothing important. He just wasn’t a good person, but we don’t live with him anymore. Mom’s dating Paul and she’s happy and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Thaila looks like she wants to say more but Annabeth cuts in. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for him, I just wanted to ask because that really doesn’t sound like the Luke I know,” she pauses when she sees Thalia’s face fall, “That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you...I really do. I just- I want to hear his side of it too you know? But I’ll stand by you no matter what.” 

Thalia nods slowly and takes Annabeth’s outstretched hand. 

“The Luke you know is very different to the Luke that I dated Annabeth. He’s changed a lot. He pretends he hasn’t, but he has and none of it is good. Even if you get his side of the story, I don’t think he’d tell the truth. I swear, on my brother and on my Mom, everything I’ve said is true. But if you want to ask him to double-check, I won’t stop you.” 

Annabeth does end up asking Luke for his side of the story, and her decision still baffles Percy to this day, but Thalia reassures him that it’s for her own sanity. 

“Luke and Annabeth were a lot closer than you remember I think. It really hurt Annabeth when he stopped talking to her. I think it hurt him too, I never knew why, but I think he had a thing for her at one point, but he chose me.” 

That old familiar sting of jealousy holes up in Percy’s stomach as he waits for Annabeth to come back and meet them at her car. 

“Do you think he still does? Like her, that is?” The words are like cotton in his mouth, suffocating and hard to speak around. 

“Maybe. Wouldn’t be surprised if she does too. She never told me, but I always had a feeling.” 

Oh.  

Percy nods, unable to bring himself to say anything and waits in silence. Annabeth comes walking down the steps, wiping her eyes and Percy’s instincts kick in, and he’s running to her, pulling her close to his chest and holding her there. 

“What did he do? Are you okay?” He asks when she finally pushes him away slightly. Her eyes are still watering but she smiles and pokes him in the cheek. 

“I’m okay. Let’s go home.”

She lets him lead her into the car, he drops Thalia off first before pulling up at Annabeth’s. 

“Come in?” 

He nods and follows her soundlessly to her room. He unwraps his scarf and hangs his jacket on a hook, like he has many times before and sets himself on her bed, playing with her old stuffed toys as she slowly undoes her coat, clearly distracted.

“Thals was right. Luke is- I don’t know who that Luke was.” Annabeth admits. 

A selfish part of Percy sighs in relief, and he holds out his arms as a peace offering to Annabeth. She smiles and sits down with him, not quite in his arms, but close enough that Percy isn’t complaining. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”

“Because you’re sad and I don’t like seeing you sad, especially when I can’t do anything about it.” 

“Seaweed Brain you can’t make everyone happy.” She says with a teasing smile.

“I don’t want to make everyone happy, just you.” The words come out before he fully processes thinking it and he swallows thickly when Annabeth stares at him, slightly dumbfounded. 

Finally, she moves, and leans down, ever so softly pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“You do make me happy. You always have, don’t doubt that.” Percy can’t help but close his eyes and relish in the warmth she gives him. When he opens his eyes again she’s staring right back at him, like she can see into his soul. He secretly wishes her eyes weren’t so beautiful, because then he wouldn’t have such a problem with looking away, but they’re not, they’re the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen and he never wants to stop. 

“You make me happy too.” More than you’ll ever know.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

[allthingskenobi]

Obi-Wan in Exile – Owen Lars

(Originally published on AllThingsKenobi.com January 10, 2021)

Welcome to the second in a series of looks into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time in exile on Tatooine between Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. We’ve tried to mine as much Legends and canon material as possible to help guide you through some of the period’s most common and repetitive themes so that when the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series airs, you’ll be ready.

Not everything he ever did in the entire 19 years will be explored here, but as we said, we’ve tried our best to pick out the most prominent and impactful moments to give everyone a better understanding of exactly what one hermit had to endure out there all alone in the sandy deserts of Tatooine.

There’s no way around it: Owen Lars hated Obi-Wan Kenobi. But why? A young Luke Skywalker could have benefited greatly from the two men working together, but it was not to be so. Here we will look at just a few of the many times the Jedi was rejected by the hardened moisture farmer in an attempt to understand just how fraught with tension their relationship really was.

“That wizard’s just a crazy old man.”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

Owen Lars was the very first person to ever paint a picture for us of the now-illustrious Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is what he had to say about him. Though we, alongside Luke, quickly recognize Owen’s words for the untruths they are, we were left to wonder exactly where the animosity, and possible bad blood, between the two men began. Especially since well up until Attack of the Clones was released, Owen was Obi-Wan’s biological brother (as confirmed in original drafts of Return of the Jedi), which made the exchange all the more tragic.

“But what if this Obi-Wan comes looking for him?”

“He won’t, I don’t think he exists any more. He died about the same time as your father.”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

Owen continues to try and deter Luke by point-blank telling him that Obi-Wan is dead. It’s another clear falsehood that, at the time, carried little to no weight until twenty-eight years later when we witnessed the “deaths” of both Anakin and Obi-Wan on the slopes of Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith. But that’s a story for another time…

“He makes his terms abundantly clear: “We’ll take him in, but you’ll play no part in his upbringing. If you have to stay on Tatooine, you keep your distance, do you hear? You neither see the boy nor speak to him. He must know nothing about his father.”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

“Obi-Wan was glad and relieved that Beru and Owen agreed to raise Luke, but his mission did not end there, as it was also his duty to watch over the boy. He had thought that his ongoing presence would be some comfort to Owen and Beru. He soon learned that he was mistaken.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

From the moment Obi-Wan arrived on Tatooine with a newborn Luke Skywalker, Owen made it abundantly clear that the Jedi would have nothing to do with the child. It was an unfair set of terms that Obi-Wan, while doing his best to adhere to, would breach with regular frequency, often pushing his already contentious relationship with the farmer to its breaking point.

Over the years, not only would Obi-Wan often be forced into interceding on the family’s behalf as protection (much to Owen’s chagrin), but he would also willingly cross the line to try and form a relationship with Luke from afar. Whether it was a simple gift of parts for Luke’s skyhopper (1) or a handmade wooden toy (2), the attempts would be vehemently denied and Obi-Wan would find himself right back where he started.

Star Wars 15 C

Was Owen right to be concerned that trouble would follow Obi-Wan back to Luke and their homestead? Of course. Obi-Wan understands and even acknowledges that his watchful gaze could attract attention (3), so he backs off, moving farther out into the Jundland Wastes until the time comes when he is needed. (3)(4) But Owen took his concerns above and beyond, twisting reason into a deep-seated personal hatred of the other man.

“The hut was approximately 136 kilometers from the Lars homestead—farther than Obi-Wan would have preferred, but probably still too close to satisfy Owen Lars.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

“I managed to steer clear of Owen Lars this time. The man doesn’t like me at all.”

KENOBI L

“I’d always believed – always hoped – that Owen’s anger would cool toward me, that one day I would be allowed to train young Luke in the ways of the Force.”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

“Old Wounds” – Star Wars Visionaries L

Why? Why did Owen Lars hate Obi-Wan Kenobi so much? First and foremost, he placed the blame of Anakin’s downfall solely on Obi-Wan, going so far as to accuse Obi-Wan of “murder.” (1) It’s interesting to say the least that Owen would have such strong opinions about a man he’d only met once (5), but it seems to become more clear when you take into consideration that Owen adored his step-mother, Shmi. But while Shmi no doubt loved her adoptive family, she often spent her time looking to the horizon waiting for the day when Anakin would return. (6) So for Obi-Wan to have lost Shmi’s beloved son might have been too much for Owen to bear.

We’ll discuss this more in depth later, but Owen even removed Shmi’s headstone, along with the stones of other family members, so that Obi-Wan could no longer visit the site. (7) Consequently, it also ensured that Luke would never know about his grandmother. At least not while he lived at the homestead.

“If killing me would have brought [Anakin’s] mother back to life, I know he would have killed me then and there. I could see it in his eyes.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

At some point, Owen also seemed to have distrusted the Jedi as a whole. It was a prejudice formed the day he watched an angry and unrepentant Anakin Skywalker return from slaughtering a village of Sand People. (2) That being his only interaction with a Jedi before Obi-Wan came along, Owen didn’t want Luke to have anything to do with what he saw in Anakin that day.

“Everyone was stunned when Owen abruptly told Ben to leave and not to come back. The experience had left Luke baffled. Even now, some ten years after the incident, he still did not know why Owen had been so angry with Ben. From what little he knew, he assumed that Ben’s purpose on Tatooine had been to discreetly watch over him while Owen and Beru raised him as if he were an ordinary child, not the son of a Jedi-turned-Sith Lord. But if both Ben and Owen had been responsible for protecting Luke, why hadn’t they gotten along? Luke could only imagine why Owen had so aggressively objected to Ben’s presence. Luke remembered listening to conversations between his uncle and aunt, practically spying on them, hoping to hear any small detail about his father or Ben Kenobi. Owen and Beru never revealed much but merely reinforced that they preferred not to discuss either man.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

Luke cheers, running full pelt toward me, arms as wide as his smile. There is a crunch behind me and I turn, Owen’s fist burying itself in my nose. I slam down hard on the ground, the lightsaber skittering from my hand. All my training, all my experience, and a humble moisture farmer has achieved what neither battle droid nor Sith has achieved, knocking me flat on my back.

“Uncle Owen!” Luke cries in confusion as his uncle manhandles the boy toward his aunt before turning to glower at me.

“Go,” he all but spits, an accusatory finger punctuating the furious decree. “Get away from here. Haven’t you people done enough to this family?”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

Lastly, and most unfortunately, Owen never minded expressing his distaste for Obi-Wan in front of Luke, going so far as to strike Obi-Wan and send him away while the boy watched. Would Owen’s treatment of the strange desert hermit help one day drive a wedge between the boy and his uncle? Maybe. Maybe not. All we do know is that Luke, like his father before him, was already inextricably linked to Obi-Wan Kenobi. And there was nothing Owen Lars could do about it.

Citations:

Star Wars 15 by Jason Aaron C

“Time of Death” – From a Certain Point of View by Cavan Scott C

Kenobi by John Jackson Miller L

Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi by Ryder Windham L

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones C

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones Novelization by R. A. Salvatore L

A New Hope: The Life of Luke Skywalker by Ryder Windham L

[heybeybey]

Ready, Set, Don't Go

Words: 1,833

Genre: Angst/Family

Rating: G Summary: Levi may have resigned from the military, but he'd underestimated how much his daughter is as much of a fighter as him and Petra. (Set almost 2 decades after canon events)

Happy Father's Day, folks!

I'm sorry for contributing slight angst today but don't worry, nobody dies. 👍 Also here, have some wheelchair Levi and a teenage Ackerbaby.

And thank you to @levis-petras for being my beta for this fic 💖

- - - -

Levi wasn't much for celebrations ever since he was young. In fact, he only recognizes five dates that are worth commemorating:

His wife's birthday.

His daughter's birthday.

His twins' birthday.

His and Petra's wedding anniversary.

And Mother's Day, but that one wasn't just for Petra. Truthfully, it was also the only way he gets to celebrate his late mother. He barely remembers her birthday, and he wasn't even sure he knew in the first place.

So, you see, he only celebrates when it's all about the people he holds dear. He doesn't really see the point in All Hearts Day or even his birthday. A more cost-efficient option too.

However, it still hurts that he's spending Father's Day this way.

The day started off normally. He woke up to Petra peppering kisses down his neck, greeting him a Happy Father's Day. The twins—Luke and Philip—then came bouncing in, both boys eager to show him the cards they drew for him.

He came down to Izzy brewing tea—a blend his daughter bought for him as a gift—and greeting him with a hug. He'd have to admit that it's been nice to be coddled by his family.

Then came dinner time.

He noticed that Izzy had been uneasy the past few days, and all those nerves seemed to have culminated during dinner. The brat had been on edge the whole day that he had to snap at her to just spill it.

It first started with an off-hand comment about how there will be a ceremony the next day for new military recruits. He sees his wife give Izzy an encouraging look from the corner of his eyes as she stumbles through her words.

Izzy, who's not much of a great liar to begin with, quickly muttered 'I signed up for the military.' and refused to meet his eyes.

"What?"

"I know that you might not agree now and that you and mom had been through a lot," Izzy starts to explain in a rush. "But I know this is what I'm meant for dad! I think there's not going to be a lot of battles to fight and it's more just—"

"No," he cuts off.

Her squeaking words quickly turned into a hiss, and it only got worse when he demanded that he drop her spot.

Soon, Petra was ushering their twins up to the second floor, knowing how arguments between father and daughter can get nasty.

"This is not fair!"

"The answer is no, Izzy," he said, matching his teenage daughter's tone. He rolls his wheelchair to follow her all the way to their house's front door, hearing her rage around the house. "Oi brat, what did I say about banging on the fucking furniture?"

He distinctly hears Petra scold, "Language, Levi!" from upstairs, but both father and daughter ignores her.

"I'm 16 now, dad," she snaps back, ignoring his last comment. "You can't tell me what to do."

Izzy finally turns around to face him, never one to back down. She's looking at him now with fury in her eyes and a retort ready on her lips.

Definitely her father's daughter.

"Do you even know what you're doing, Izzy?" He said, voice finally softening as he takes in the loaded backpack on her back. He feels the weight of her decision then.

"I wouldn't have signed if I didn't."

He'd always had a hunch that Izzy was fond of the military. Too fond for his taste, if he's going to be honest about it.

Guilt pinches him a bit whenever he thinks back to his promise that he would stand by his children no matter the choices they make. Even at the age of 56, he remains steadfast to his belief to live a life with no regrets.

But he'd be damned before he even allows any of his children to enlist.

So the first time she daydreamed of becoming a soldier at the tender age of eight, he had quickly shut down the idea.

"Here, girls like dolls right?" he had said as he pushed the plushie to her arms. He doesn't really give a damn whether she likes toys that are meant more for girls or boys. He'd buy her anything she asks for, budget permitting. But for some reason, that moment had settled uneasily in his gut. "I bought this for you today."

"But I want that one!" she'd screech, pointing at the display of two toy dual broadswords.

Petra had reprimanded him, telling him that he shouldn't discourage their child just because of their experiences. He could only give his wife a worried look in return.

Izzy was 11 the next time she approached the topic, asking him about his time as Captain Levi Ackerman. While he and Petra had moved out of Paradis since the Battle of Heaven and Earth, never even thinking of looking back, Petra was able to keep a few portraits of their team and the other Scout veterans.

Izzy, the curious young teen that she was, found them.

"See, it says here that you were a captain!" Izzy exclaims, eyes sparkling with excitement and reverence. She'd been bouncing to and from the box with the portraits and other memorabilia during his and Petra's time in the Scouts. She then settled down, looking from the portrait of a younger version of Levi with Erwin to her father's scarred face now. Levi feels his hands clenching on the armrests of his wheelchair, his vision starting to blur the more he looks at his former commander's face.

"It's so cool that you were in the military. And that you even had a high position! Do you think I'll also become a captain in the future? Maybe you can train me so I can reach that level! Please dad, can you tell me more? Is that why you have that badass scar? Mom won't tell me anything—"

Brat didn't know that he was there until the end. He doesn't know what they teach in history classes to children nowadays, but he and Petra had agreed that there's no sense in mentioning their time as soldiers and the literal hell they've been through to any of their children.

Not really a good bedtime story for kids.

The thought of his own child witnessing the same shit he and Petra went through was enough to give him a new set of nightmares every night.

"She's young, Levi," Petra consoles him after he sat up sweating from a nightmare. Tears were also streaming down her cheeks as she clings on to his bare shoulder. "She might still change her mind."

The last time Izzy mentioned it, she was 14. Everything was starting to pick up again during that time. Paradis' military, unsurprisingly, was the strongest.

Armin came over to tell them that a new order will be established—a neutral party from different nations that they all hope would promote and retain the fragile facade of peace they all had before one side goes batshit crazy. Arlert had been the same level-headed young man that he was since Levi had to revive his charred ass back in Shiganshina as he explained everything to the former captain.

With this change came a new branch of military for implementation.

Izzy had been starry eyed since then.

"This might be the world's chance to truly fix things," she babbled on that whole day—a mixture of rants about the current state and how everything is being handled, and reverence at the possible future this change might bring.

"Imagine... Imagine being a part of that..." Izzy had trailed off then, eyes faraway but lit up with optimism.

All Levi can hear and see is another Isabel from years past.

Back then, he'd chalked it all up to the fanciful thinking of a child who doesn't know any better. Now, Levi desperately wants to believe that maybe this is just a rebellious teenage phase. He'd been around a lot of teenagers during his time and he'd witnessed how crazy they can get.

Like Eren and—

He tears himself away from the memory before his mind fucks him up further. He and Petra already deals with it on an almost nightly basis, and it's a thought he'd rather not dwell on during his waking hours.

The living room was quiet for a moment as both father and daughter stare each other down. Levi looks at his first-born now—committed and kind like Petra, blunt and fearless like him. The best of his and his wife's qualities mixed together.

But who knows when shit will go down again? Things were shaky enough in this damned world as it is. While he and Petra were able to find their own safe spot to raise their children in, one can never be too complacent.

He'd already lost too much, and most days he wakes up thinking that even his family is temporary. There one day, gone the next.

"I can do my part this way, dad," Izzy finally replies, drawing her father back to the present. She sighs, dropping down her bag and kneels on one side of his wheelchair so they'd be at the same level. "Like what you did. Like what you and mom did."

He remains quiet as he takes in the determination in her eyes. It's the same look Petra would have more than two decades ago when she saves another soldier from being titan shit. The same look his daughter would have whenever she refuses to let go of a toy before bath time back when she was a toddler.

He knows then that there's no swaying her from her decision.

"You're too much like your mother," Levi says, resigned. They even have the same strawberry-blonde bob, he notes. Izzy gives him a sad smile then.

"You're just too old to 'deal with my teenage bullshit', dad," Izzy retorts to lighten the mood, doing her best to imitate her father's previous rants.

He doesn't tell her that maybe what he's too old for is the possibility of losing another person he holds dear.

- - - -

When he sees her off the next morning, already in the uniform issued by the military, he decides that he'd rest easier at night knowing that Izzy believes he's there to support her. He fought for Paradis' freedom for half his life. Why would he rob his daughter from her freedom to choose the path she wants?

"I'm proud of you, Izzy," Levi whispers against her ear as she hugs him tightly, fighting against his desire to beg her to not to go. It may be uncharacteristic of him to want to sob out and cling further to her but damn it, this is his daughter.

But Izzy's breath hitches at his words, and tears soon started to fall. His own arm encircles tightly around her while he supports himself with a crutch. She looks at him gratefully, true joy in her eyes, and that was enough to stop him from forbidding her further.

"You're not allowed to die," he mutters instead—so similar to the 'encouraging words' he gave the young recruits he guided before.

Izzy laughs through her sobs and teases him, "Is that an order, 'captain'?"

"Damn right it is, brat," he replies, fondly ruffling her hair.