#how do you watch/read something and you move on with life like it never happened

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in your Fire (Pt 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3

Summary: the after math of the meeting in Hewn City

Pairing: Eris x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: out of character Feyre (Keeping secrets from Rhys) slight angst, fluff 😊

Notes: Ahhhhhhhh !! Thank you everyone who is reading, liking, commenting, reblogging and asking to be on the taglist I love each and every one of you ! This chapter is a little short, but I really hope you like it ! I wanted to get something out this weekend, and cant wait to work on the next part this week !

Eris’ POV

Eris has experienced a lot of fear in his life. Plenty of terrifying moments to plague his nightmares every century of his life. But this- Y/n falling unconscious before them, crying out in agony before the darkness took her- he thought he had suffered all his worst fears by now. He was so devastatingly wrong.

He moved so fast he didn’t have time to think about what he was doing. He was to her before her head could hit the ground. But before he could pull her into his arms, Cassian grabbed her and Azriel yanked Eris back.

“Don’t you touch her.” Azriel growled.

“You’re lucky I moved as quickly as I did! None of you sprang to action and a head wound is the last thing she needs in this state!” Eris defended.

“Why do you even care?” Mor snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough. We need to get Y/n to Madja. This meeting is over.” Rhys started to walk toward Cassian where he still held Y/n’s unconscious figure.

All Eris could do was stand there dumbly and watch as they all prepared to winnow her away, and he would have no way to know how she was or what was wrong. He hadn’t felt so helpless in so long and it felt like a punch to the gut. Only Nesta threw him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as she had looked at him before.

And then they were gone. And Eris had to sit down, or he may have thrown up. He was shaking with pent up energy and emotions. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her at all during the meeting, not when she has been looking at him with soft eyes that expected a good male to be standing before her. He was not good. He was tortured and twisted and wrong. He knew if he had looked into her eyes he would have fallen apart and gotten to his knees before her to ask for her forgiveness for what had happened with Mor, and even with Lucien. He usually brushed off the comments about those events, any event where his morals are questioned. But with Y/n standing there he felt such a need to defend himself- to explain. But he couldn’t. Not fully. And now Y/n will know he is a monster, and she will never again touch his hands with softness, never again look into his eyes with hopeful caution. Gods. All it took was one damn dance and Eris was a fool for her.

He had to see her again. Had to know if she was okay. For now, though, all he can do is go home to the Autumn Court, and pray his father remained unaware of his absence.

Y/n’s POV

Amber eyes, freckled skin, sharp cheekbones, and the softest red hair. Y/n had been dreaming of this face for weeks, but now, instead of a frozen lake with pain and fear in his eyes, they were on the dancefloor. He still looked at her with fear in those beautiful eyes, but this was a much more vulnerable kind of fear. Not fear of her power, but fear of her looking too closely at him. Fear of being seen. In this dream, he doesn’t turn and run away. In this dream he stays, and they stare into each other’s souls for a long while. Then, she leans into him and rests her head on his chest, and he continues to sway her back and forth until the song comes to an end.

When she looks back up at him, his face is cold. His gaze harsh and unforgiving as he pushes her away. She stumbles, but her family rushes in behind her. Eris, who was soft and warm moments ago, was now distant and cruel as he sneers and looks you up and down before exiting the dancehall.

Y/n jolted awake gasping for air. Feyre was immediately by her side, holding her hand. When Y/n catches her breath, Feyre cups her cheek and wipes away the stray tears that Y/n hadn’t noticed falling. Feyre climbs into the bed next to her. The small bed was set up right next to the fireplace, and Y/n crooned toward the heat and golden glow on her face. It was nighttime, or maybe the early hours of the morning. Feyre laid on the side furthest from the fire, her head propped up on her hand and reached the other out to comb Y/n’s hair with her fingers.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre whispered.

Y/n motioned to her throat in a request for water and Feyre jumped up to get it for her. After a few large, unladylike gulps, she set the glass down on her bedside table. “Thank you. I’m okay. What happened?”

“We were in the meeting with Eris,” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name and tried to not make it obvious she had just been dreaming about him, “when all of a sudden you cried out in pain and fell unconscious.” Feyre finished.

“My head had been hurting throughout the meeting. I don’t know what was wrong, I’m sorry. That must have been so embarrassing and unprofessional. Is Rhys upset?”

“Rhys? Oh Y/n, of course not! He’s been worried sick about you. Like a mother hen. He’s terrible, honestly,” Feyre chuckled softly. It made Y/n feel more at ease.

“But we didn’t get the information from Eris about the Spring Court. I messed up the whole meeting because of a silly headache- “

“Y/n, stop, it’s really okay. Eris was being an ass anyway and- “ Feyre halted as Y/n groaned and held her head in her hands. “Y/n? Y/n what can I do?” Feyre sat helpless as her twin’s face contorted in pain. Y/n swung her legs over the side of the bed to fully face the fire raging in the hearth and she felt the pressure in her head lighten.

Feyre came to sit beside her again, and when she could think again, Y/n started to remember what happened at the meeting. She remembered being confused the whole meeting. By Eris refusing to look at her, by the history with Mor and with his brother, and the rising tension in the room and the distain that her family held for Eris. She remembered the pain in Eris’ voice that no one else could bother to hear, when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.” And that was when the pain in her head escalated to a point that she could not handle. Then she comes to now, when Feyre started to insult him, and the pain came back. The only to help, being the fire… Her twin wasn’t stupid. Y/n knew she had pieced it together too before even looking at her. And it wasn’t her daemati power. Y/n had worked tirelessly on her mental shield.

Y/n slowly turned to lock eyes with Feyre and was met with a knowing but weary gaze. “So… Eris, huh?”

“Ugh, Feyre!” Y/n groaned and threw her pillow at her head. Easily grabbing the pillow, Feyre and Y/n burst out into laughter. They hadn’t laughed like this together in so long. They had been so close until Feyre came to Prythian, and Y/n hadn’t noticed how much she had been missing her sister.

When their breathing slowed and they could once again keep a straight face, Y/n looked back to her sister. “I don’t know. I feel this pull to him, but I also know how much everyone hates him. I mean her tried to take you from us on that damned lake, he apparently has hurt Mor, and I don’t even know what to think about what happened to poor Lucien. And at the same time, I think I see him in a way that not even he can. He is the embodiment of fire, Fey. How could I not be drawn to him like a moth to a flame? I think… I think he might be a good male deep down. But I’m so confused.” Y/n sighed and put her head in her hands again.

Feyre rubbed her sister’s back in an attempt to soothe her. It makes sense, she thinks, for her sister to be intrigued by Eris. But she was in the same boat with their family’s animosity toward the male, it would be difficult to work around centuries of hurt, even if they were misunderstandings. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

When Y/n woke the next morning, it was close to noon and Feyre was gone. Likely off performing her duties as High Lady to get ready for the High Lords meeting, they were planning. As she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed a quill and parchment sat out on her desk across the room. Having learned how to read and write not long ago, she thought it might be a sign to practice. She had already missed her usual lesson with Rhys or Amren, so this would have to do.

She wrapped the plush green robe tighter around her shivering frame and sat in the large desk chair with her knees to her chest, her head resting atop them. The desk was a beautiful cherry oak wood, stained to deepen the natural red tint of the wood. The complexity of the color and the grain of the wood had Y/n’s mind wandering to a certain male who was just as complex and had hair a similar shade of red. Thinking of the way his hand felt on her waist as they danced, how warm he was, and the moment of vulnerability he showed during the meeting. She felt her heart crack slightly as she recounted the look on his face and the way his voice broke imperceptibly when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.”

The memories had her picking up the quill, dipping it into some ink, and pressing to the page.

She folded the parchment into a triangle shape that could be carried by the wind, and with all her power, willed the wind to carry it to the Autumn Court. Hoping and praying to whatever gods may listen, that no one else finds it.

Eris’ POV

The minute he arrived back in the Autumn Court, Eris was so exhausted that he could have wept when he saw his horse standing there waiting for him. The chestnut stallion was a clear mirror of himself. Tall, deceivingly strong with his lean frame, and a coat the color red that could only be found in his home court. A striking white blaze ran down his long face onto his soft muzzle. As Eris approached him, Ignatius lifted his head in greeting and let out a low nicker. Eris approached him with tired eyes and a small, fond smile. “Hello, friend. Let’s go home, shall we?” Stroking his neck in a few long, slow movements, Eris mounted his steed and they started on their way back to the Forest House.

When they made it back to the stable, Eris took Ignatius’ saddle and bridle off, put him in his stall and made sure he had extra gain for the night. Giving his friend a final brushing, Eris bid him goodnight- although it was likely closer to morning by now.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, sleep embraced him in a tight hold and dragged him to a land of dreams. Dreams of Y/n and her shining y/h/c hair, her soft but calloused hands in his, and her stunning y/e/c eyes staring straight into his soul. He could stay in this dream forever he thinks. Hearing her soft voice say far too kind things to him.

Eris finally awoke when a maid opened his door and startled him from sleep. She squealed and jumped when Eris shot up from his bed, and profusely apologized as she scurries away, closing the door behind her. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, making his way over to his balcony where the first maid must have come in and set out his tea for the morning. The pot was cold by now, but that was no issue for a fire wielder. Quickly, his tea was hot once again as he sat and looked out upon the grounds of his house. House, not home. As he sat and breathed in the early afternoon air, something caught his attention. It looked like a piece of parchment floating on the breeze. It couldn’t be- but it kept getting closer to him and suddenly in was within his reach. He snatched the paper from the sky and looked at it with wide eyes. He could smell her. Y/n’s scent of cashmere and cinnamon, all things warm and comforting. He closed his eyes for a long moment, just breathing her in. when he regained his composure, he sat down and unfolded the letter.

Dear Eris,

I am fine, in case you were wondering. Truthfully… I’ve been wondering about you. Maybe that isn’t appropriate to say, but I’ve already written it and I simply can’t waste good parchment to not say what I mean and what I feel. I’m confused and I want to talk to you. I don’t believe there is ever only one side to a story and I’d very much like to hear yours.

Y/n

Eris choked out a laugh and had to cover his mouth with a hand to keep himself from breaking out into a fit. He knew she was bold, but this was something he could not have anticipated. She was thinking about him. Eris shook his head to clear his thoughts and rushed back inside to his large mahogany desk. The drawers painted the shade of green of the forest after a heavy rain. After he thought through what he wanted to say, he put ink to paper and wrote out his response. He hoped he didn’t seem desperate by responding with such haste, but he too was wondering about her and wanted to know her. So, he held the letter in the palm of his hand and set it alight.

Y/n’s POV

Despite the late start to her day, she tried to regain some sense of control by tracking down Cassian for a training session, eating lunch and doing some studying that Amren assigned her in the library. By the time she got back to her room, the sun was setting, and she asked the house to bring her dinner to her room.

With her eyes half closed from exhaustion, she plopped down on her couch in front of the already lit fire. When she peeled her eyes open, she noticed a small, folded paper sitting in front of the hearth. She felt her heart jump to her throat as she scrambled to reach for it on the ground. Holding her breath, she unfolded the paper delicately. As if it might turn to ash in her hands.

Dearest Y/n,

I am glad to know you are alright. I was… worried. About you. I am also happy to see your boldness knows no bounds. You fascinate me and I find myself wanting to know you. But it seems you have questions for me too, so let us make a deal. A question for a question. What do you say, little dove?

I eagerly await your response,

Eris

Taglist: @abysshaven @myromanempiree @lilah-asteria @96jnie

@ivy-34 @minaethrym @nebarious @anxious-study @slytherintaco @talesofadragon @paleidiot @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @tenebrisirae

[reigningqueenofwords]

Forgiven

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,530 Request: @jessicalynnann Okay when you have time how about Dean is a cop and he and the reader are established well she thinks Dean is pulling away cause he is working a lot and there is a new partner who is pretty. Well she and Mary are shopping and she breaks down and tells Mary that she thinks she is losing Dean. Well what about there is a robbery where the reader works and she gets hurt and Dean risks his life to save her. I had this dream last night. Can you make the ending something like this I love you so much but I guess I’m doing this here. And he gets down on one knee… no rush.

Read on AO3

You’d been with Dean nearly 7 years. You were by his side all through the academy, and when he got his badge. Things had been really good, and while there’d been no proposal or talk of a family, you felt you were on the way. One day you knew you’d call Dean your husband, and the father of your children.

And then Dean’s hours went up. Fine. He was busy. That happened. However, after the first couple weeks of the new hours you felt like Dean wasn’t your Dean. When he would crawl into bed he was out. No pulling you close, no holding you. Instead of eating breakfast with you (on the mornings he was there at the same time), he’d grab something on the way to work. You couldn’t remember the last time he had taken you on a date, either. Or surprised you with flowers ‘just because’.

After a month of this, you found out that he had a new partner. He hadn’t even told you. You’d met her at the cookout he and a few of his coworkers had now and then. It was them, and their significant others. She had walked up to you, a big smile on her (too beautiful) face. “You must be Y/N! I’m Kelly.” She held out her hand, clearly excited to meet you.

You shook it, not wanting to be rude. “Nice to meet you. Are you dating one of the guys?” You knew a couple of them were single, so maybe they had met someone?

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, I’m Winchester’s new partner.” She chuckled. New partner ? What happened to his old partner? “For about a month now.” She moved to stand next to you. 

“I honestly didn’t know he had a new partner.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed. “He hasn’t talked much about work recently.” 

“It does get really busy.” She nodded, a tension settling between the pair of you. “The guys have been so welcoming, too.” 

Her bubblynes was so odd to you. Not in general, but at this moment. How could she not feel the awkwardness? That you clearly had no idea that she even existed before today? “They’re all great.” You agreed. “I always look forward to catching up with all of them at the cookouts. I haven’t been able to have any of them over for dinner lately.”

“Oh, if I would have known I would have invited you when I had everyone over last Wednesday.” She shook her head. 

“Everyone? Was Dean there?” Your heart clenched. Dean said he had work, so just make yourself something. Was that ‘work’ spending time with the guys at Kelly’s?

She nodded. “Yeah, him, Cas, Sam…most of the guys.” She shrugged. “We hung out for a couple hours, had some beers.” You couldn’t be angry at Kelly. She didn’t know that she was pouring salt in your wounds. 

Dean came over, grinning. He had a beer in one hand, and a plate in the other. “Hey, babe. I see you met Winters.” He said happily. “I told you you’d get along.” 

You gave him a funny look. “You never told me about her.” You said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you had a new partner. She is nice, though.” That was something you couldn't deny. It still didn’t alleviate you feeling off about the entire situation. “Oh, I see Donna. I’m gonna go say hi. I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever.” You excused yourself, rushing to talk to her. 

Chuckling, Dean watched you go, sipping his beer. 

A couple weeks later, you were lounging when Mary texted you. Up for some shopping with your mother in law? You sighed at her wording. Mary and John were like your second parents, and you adored them. Would you lose them, too?

Always! Let me shower and get ready. Want me to meet you at the mall? You got up, making your way to your room. 

I’ll pick you up in half an hour :) She replied. 

You felt you’d done well hiding how you were feeling, but when you were in the second store, Mary brought it up. “You seem to have something on your mind, do you want to talk about it?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “I can get it if it’s Dean being a cop. I mean, John just retired. Every day I worried about him coming home.” 

“I think I’m losing him.” You admitted, tearing up. Quickly wiping your cheek, you focused on the dresses you were looking at. “I can get long hours, but it’s him feeling gone even when he’s home. He doesn’t pull me close anymore, doesn’t take me on dates, doesn’t surprise me with flowers, or anything. And have you met his new partner?” 

Mary shook her head. “No, I’ve heard he’s good, though.” 

“ She’s gorgeous.” You huffed. “I can barely get him to eat dinner with me, but one night he told me he had to work and just to make dinner for myself. He was at her house with some of the guys hanging out for a couple hours. And having dinner. I hate feeling so insecure and like he’d rather be with her.” 

She pulled you into a hug. “Dean loves you so much.” She tried. “I don’t know what’s going on with him.” 

You hugged her back, welcoming the comfort. “I might go stay with my parents for a few days. I don’t think he’d even notice.” Which hurt even worse. 

“Our house is closer to your job. You can come stay with us.” She pulled back to look at you, hands on your arms. “John will love having you around, too.” 

After a moment, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Let’s finish up this shopping, and then I’ll go pack a bag. I’ll make dinner tonight. It’s been a bit since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself.” That alone gave you something to look forward to. 

Dean got home just after 11 that night, and wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. There was no sign in the first floor of the house that anything was different. He toed off his shoes, hung his belt on the coat rack, and made his way to the kitchen. Sometimes he got lucky and there were leftovers from dinner that night. When he didn’t see anything, he assumed that there hadn’t been anything left over. 

After he had a quick sandwich and a glass of milk, he made his way upstairs. He froze when he noticed the bed was still made. You weren’t in it. His nightstand lamp was on, and there was a paper folded against it. Walking over to it, he sat on the bed and lifted the paper. Did you leave him? It took him a moment for him to open it. 

Dean- 

I’m staying with your parents for a few days while I do some thinking. We’ve been together almost 7 years. 7 years in two weeks, actually. Did you have any idea that our anniversary was coming up? 

I barely see you, and when I do? You aren’t even *here*. It’s like you’re somewhere else. When you started working more, I understood. Your job is important, which meant the times you were home would mean more. Instead, those times hurt worse. 

When was the last time you held me at night? When was the last time you held my hand? Took me on a date? Cuddled with me while watching a movie (even if you fell asleep, I would be over the moon for that time with you)?  

Do you know how badly it hurt to want you home for dinner now and then, just to find out you went to your new partner’s for dinner? A new partner I didn’t know about, might I add. You’d rather go spend time with your gorgeous new partner than make it home for one dinner with the woman who has been by your side for everything, and that says a lot. 

I’m not saying I’m leaving you, but I do need to figure some things out. 

I love you, Dean. 

-Y/N 

He clenched his jaw as tears rolled down his cheeks. Looking back, he knew this wasn’t out of left field. He knew what you were talking about. He’d seen the hurt on your face lately, too. He’d pushed it away, though. He’d told himself it was something else. It wasn’t about him. Dean sniffed, opening up his night stand drawer to pull out the tiny black box he’d put in there two months prior. Lifting the lid, he looked down at the ring he’d bought you, and wondered if he missed his chance. All he saw when he pictures his life was you by his side, and probably a kid or two. You’d be a great mom. 

“Fuck.” He breathed. He had an early shift the next day, so he’d go straight to you after work.

It stung when you woke up to no texts or missed calls from Dean. You knew that by now he would have gotten your note. Unless he didn’t go home last night . The thought caught you off guard. He’d never not come home. Even if he came home late. Pushing those thoughts from your head, you got ready for work. You worked at a high end jewelry store, and had been promoted to manager 6 months prior. It paid well, and you liked all the people you worked with. 

Dean hadn’t slept well the night before, and knew he’d be powering through his shift with a lot of (bad) coffee. He also wanted to talk to his chief about cutting back his hours, even just an hour here and there. Anything to be with you more. If he even had you more. 

It was nearly 4 when he was alerted to a robbery. At your job. “Shit!” He flipped on the sirens and lights before speeding off. He was only a few minutes away, but it felt like ages before he pulled up in front of it. He could see through the glass, where you were being held at gunpoint. The only other worker wasn’t someone he recognized, so he assumed they were new. What a way to start a job! 

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?” Kelly asked as they parked. 

“Yes, it is.” His voice was betraying him. He was trying to sound calm, but he felt like he’d lose it at any moment. “I’m going around back.” He told her. 

She whipped her head to look at him. “What? Why not wait for backup? Can you even get in?” 

“I can’t wait and risk her getting shot.” He pulled off his jacket. “And I can. I know the code. She’s the manager, so she told me.” Did you have a gut feeling he’d need it at some point? 

“And do what in there? I can see the door to the back of the store. Which means he can.” She opened her door to get in place. 

“I can distract him. Or maybe I can talk him down from inside. The storefront has bullet proof glass. She was really excited when it was installed. It’s supposed to be basically unbreakable.” He explained. 

“This isn't procedure!” She tried. However, she watched him rush around the back, gun drawn. “Damn in, Winchester!” She hissed, hearing other cops arriving.

You were shaking, tears in your eyes, while the man in front of you aimed his gun at you. You’d heard the cops pull up, but that didn’t seem to phase him one bit. Someone must have called, because you didn’t even have a chance to trigger the silent alarm. He had to know that there was no getting out of this without being arrested, right? 

The door next to you busted in, making you and Alice scream. The robber whipped his gun towards the door. The door blocked whoever it was from view, but only a few people had the code. You quickly looked out the front of the store and saw Kelly. But no Dean. 

Just as it registered that your boyfriend was the one that came in, you heard two gunshots. The robber went down, and you rushed to the door. “Dean!” You sobbed, pulling off your blazer to press it against his chest. “Oh God.” Moving, you rested his head on your lap as you could hear people rushing into the store.

Dean hissed in pain as you kept pressure on his chest. “Fuck, I didn’t want to do it like this, but I gotta ask. I love you more than anything. Will you marry me? Your ring is in my nightstand.” He wanted you to know, just in case he didn’t make it. 

You nodded. “Of course I’ll marry you.” The feelings of the past month or so were pushed from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that Dean had been shot. “I love you so much.” You sniffed. 

“Ma’am, we need to get him into an ambulance.” Came a voice. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You gently moved his head off your lap so you could get out of their way. You watched as they got him onto a stretcher. 

You’d stopped at home on the way to the hospital. You wanted to put on your ring, so when Dean woke up, he saw you wearing it. You also knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him right away. Mary had already been called, and told you that they would meet you at the hospital. 

Once there, you didn’t keep track of how much time you had been sitting there. All you could do is stare at the double doors that a doctor would come out of to talk to the family of Dean Winchester. John held Mary’s hand, both worried for their eldest. Sam was currently at work- at the police station, oddly enough. There was no telling when Dean’s coworkers would come flooding into the waiting room. 

“Dean Winchester’s family?” A doctor called out. You, John, and Mary stood. “Hi, I’m Dr. Micheals. Surgery went well, and he’s awake now. Groggy, but awake. For now I’ll ask that you go see him one at a time.” He gave you a comforting smile. 

“Go.” Mary nudged you. “We’ll see him after.” 

Nodding, you followed the doctor to Dean’s room. “Thank you.” You said softly before stepping in. 

“Hey, babe.” He smiled. 

While a few tears had slipped out while you waited, hearing his voice broke the dam. Sobbing, you went over and gently kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You cupped his cheek. 

“You’re stuck with me. For life.” He gave you that smirk that he knew just melted you. “I’m sorry about this past month. I had planned to talk to the chief after my shift about cutting back my hours some.” He rested his hand on your leg as you sat on the side of his bed. “And I know I’ll be on leave while I heal. So, I’m all yours. I’m not leaving your side.”

You smiled at that. “Alls forgiven.” You promised him. 

[vampirehoon]

my angel ✫ hwang hyunjin (800+)

(needed) a/n ✫ omg. so sorry for the inactivity on posting but this month had hit me the hardest - being really busy with life, i couldn’t sit down and find time to write so finally i wrote something short and sweet. also im a hyunjin girly rn but enha posts return! also not proof read.

you would believe your boyfriend’s parents if they said angels paid him a visit when he was born and blessed him with the most perfect face you’ve ever seen. pure strangers, mainly girls, have a hard time missing him if they walk past him because he’s so beautiful.

hyunjin melts everytime you call him beautiful, insisting on it. it’s habit of hyunjin to deny and kiss you when you say those things but when he took you into his arms and held you so you couldn’t move, you knew you were loved.

it’s late at the park and a few couple and friend groups remain on the grass. you wondered if kissing you in public crossed hyunjin’s mind but it seemed everyone was already focused on the sunset.

he smiled before leaning closer into your face and places soft kisses that tickled you. fighting them was pointless but you wanted to only because you knew how pink your cheeks get.

“you sure you’re not referring to yourself, beautiful?” he hums, smushing his lips onto your pink cheeks. he’s lucky he’s beautiful and you’d never want to ruin his pretty face.

he continues to kiss you as you let it happen.

“just accept it hyunjin. you are an angel in disguise.”

you feel hyunjin’s kisses come to a stop and you look over to him, wondering where they went.

hyunjin’s eyes were sparkling, looking back and forth from both of your eyes. it’s as if he was making sure you were watching what he was doing - or going to do.

you could trail your gaze across his face to find his pretty mole under his eye or his long lips that were red and plump, but holding eye contact with him felt more intimate then anything else.

his lips curled into a soft smile as he began to speak softly to you.

“are you aware how angelic you look right now? you can’t convince me your not an angel standing in front of me.” he says as he lets one of his arms release from behind you to take your hair behind your ear.

it’s unfair he can do that to you, makes your heart flutter as if you’ve fallen in love with him all over again.

you look to the side, trying to dismiss his comment.

“you’re just saying that-“

“you’re beautiful y/n.” hyunjin takes your face in his hands and raises your head to look up at him. hearing him say that made you feel warm. if hyunjin was always here to let you know you were beautiful, you could be saved from any sadness or pain.

he won’t be able to ignore his beauty either, so you softly remind him again.

“i love you.”

“i love you.”

meeting his lips and adoring the softness of them felt like heaven. every aspect of him reminded of you of heaven. you two held each other close and shared sweet nothings when you two pulled away.

hyunjin rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss to both. you smiled and adored each one.

“so,” he held your hands in front of him and played with them as he trailed. your laugh adorned the moment.

“what are our plans for tomorrow?” you question why he wonders of plans for tomorrow, it’s not even night time.

“since this day is ending.” he answers but it didn’t seem to satisfy you completely.

you wonder what the two of you can do. it’s always fun going on dates or simply staying inside and being all cozy but it’s hard to decide.

“do we need it planned out?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him and fitting your head under his chin.

hyunjin smiles as you do so and shakes his head softly.

“no, not at all.”

you two hold each other in a hug for a moment before you continue you on with plans.

“well.. i did make one plan.”

hyunjin listens, not daring to break your hug just yet.

“to start calling you my angel.”

hyunjin broke out into the sweetest laugh and you weren’t trying to make him laugh. you didn’t want it to stop so you smiled as he brought his laugh down. he seemed to have something to say as he cleared his throat.

“okay deal.” you smiled hearing him say that. “but..” you sometimes dread but’s.

“you have to let me call you my goddess.”

maybe you would and maybe you would love to kiss him for the rest of the night. you simply shrugged, acting as if that wasn’t an issue. hyunjin senses something and squeezed your soft cheeks.

“my goddess?”

“you are so lucky i’m in love with you hyunjin!” you raise your voice as you burn up and leave his hug to walk away. like a dog, hyunjin follows behind you and takes your hand in his.

“yes. i am very lucky.” is all he had to say to show his innocence in loving you.

getting to be in love with hyunjin is a chance to live in heaven on earth.

𓉸ྀི ©vampirehoon

[burningthetree]

Once again I lie in bed wondering, how are people normal about movies shows etc

[sincerelybubbles]

it's a date || spencer reid x reader

masterlist || part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention. 

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you. 

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight. 

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind. 

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain. 

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door. 

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous. 

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. 

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee. 

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply. 

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over. 

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide. 

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge. 

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove. 

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh. 

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor. 

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book. 

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand. 

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta. 

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart. 

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news. 

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting. 

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident. 

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet. 

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well. 

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face. 

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief. 

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest. 

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled. 

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression. 

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere. 

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile. 

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile. 

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are. 

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted. 

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him. 

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space. 

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones. 

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically. 

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. 

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name. 

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone. 

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait. 

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in. 

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks. 

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack. 

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something. 

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder. 

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow. 

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him. 

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up. 

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains. 

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little. 

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one. 

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted. 

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread. 

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him. 

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it. 

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes. 

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him. 

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about. 

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere. 

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable. 

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away. 

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. 

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly. 

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something. 

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers. 

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging. 

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering. 

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct. 

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back. 

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly. 

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored. 

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory. 

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught. 

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street. 

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food. 

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street. 

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs. 

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks. 

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer. 

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house. 

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head. 

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window. 

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology. 

You wish he hadn’t. 

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again. 

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle. 

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts. 

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway. 

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side. 

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun. 

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks. 

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low. 

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms. 

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid. 

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy. 

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head. 

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket. 

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team. 

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway. 

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you. 

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away. 

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it. 

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile. 

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

[sexysadie23]

ੈ✩‧₊˚Lady Killer ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rafe Cameron

Tags | Bestfriend!Rafe Cameron x innocent!reader

Synopsis | Despite having moved to Figure 8 on Kildare in your early teens, you never had many friends. Certainly not in the kook academy, the only place you really had the chance to. But upon attending one of your parents’ country club events, the island suddenly doesn’t seem so lonely.

Warnings | Underage drinking and drugs - misogynistic comments (more exciting things to come in the series!)

Note | This is my first time writing a Rafe fic! This will be just a one shot of how these two characters met, but I will be making this a series eventually! I do include certain elements to reader ie. Being an only child and ‘doe eyes’. If you don’t like that - don’t read it! Reader is like so cute and obsessed with Rafe and he’s like wtf okay?

——————————— ୨୧ ————————————

For a long time, you thought there was something explicitly wrong with you. You’d moved a couple times in your life, so you’d never really had friends which stuck. You were simply just a phase in other kids your ages’ lives, only to be remembered as ‘that girl which was in our grade’.

It was lonely for a while, and you had learnt to find comfort in the little things. Friday nights in watching your favourite movies, reading in the library at lunch, the birdsong on the walk home from school. Yet moving to Kildare seemed to be where your parents finally decided for you set up camp, and you’d sparked an iota of hope that this is where you would find your people.

Your parents were moderately well off, though certainly not as rich as some families seemed to be at your new home. But you had always had the essentials. On top of them however, was a nice home, a vacation at least once a year and never any need for a part time job. After all, being the only child your parents wanted you to focus solely on your studies at the Kildare Academy, otherwise known as ‘Kook Academy’ - why, you didn’t know really.

You’d never had to wear a uniform before. You were so excited though at 14 years old - wearing your mary janes and blazer which was slightly too big. Your pink JanSport backpack which was bulkier than necessary, a Winnie The Pooh keychain dangling off of it.

“Mom, do you think they’ll like me?” The unadulterated hope in your eyes made your mother smile. She worried about you sometimes. With your wide eyes and kind heart, she feared you were too trusting, sheltered for your age.

“Just be your sunny self, sweetie and they will love you.”

But that was not what happened.

You tried, honestly you tried to make friends. Still nothing seemed to stick. People at the academy had been there for years, with it being a relatively small school full of people from Figure 8 with pre-established friend groups and social standing. You’d entered at an age where teenagers were enraptured with what their peers thought of them, and the girls at the school only judged you for your lack of designer handbag or lack of makeup, lack of status - or whatever problem they could seem to find.

You even came back to the gym lockers to change only to find ‘Chanel’ written over the exed out ‘Jansport’ of your bag. Your mother was infuriated, and insisted you use one of her designer bags to fit in.

You denied, however much you wanted to and were somewhat materialistic, you knew they would just call it a fake or find some other way to deface it. You’d simply washed the backpack, and continue to use it until graduation 2 months ago.

Summer vacations were hard for you. When you saw so many others at parties in big mansions or even on the other side of the island, ‘the cut’ as you learned, or people surfing with their friends, it only served as a reminder of your solitude. So much so that you had resigned to reading in your garden, window shopping online or following your parents around.

This included Midsummer’s. It was a sort of soiree to celebrate…well, actually you weren’t sure what. Being rich, it seemed? That’s what it looked like, as you sat there in your pink tulle ankle length dress, flowers woven throughout your hair tied simplistically with a white ribbon. You idly watched, sipping on a bottle of coca cola as your dad talked business with a fellow doctor from the island.

Obviously, there were kids from the academy there. Many of which you had just graduated with, and all of which were ignoring you - or just didn’t realise you were here. You never pondered too much on your friendlessness, looking at the positives in your life rather than the negatives.

The atmosphere at the party was thriving, and you adored the pageantry. One lady in particular, a blonde fussing over a curly haired tween with glasses was wearing an extravagant headpiece which looked like it could poke out your eye. A girl from the academy around your age stood nearby, wearing white with flowers in her hair as well. She looked pretty, but being from the academy you knew to keep your distance.

It was starting to wear you out, the fact that nobody had asked you a question in 45 minutes. Then and there, you’d decided to at least explore the venue, which had waiters and bar staff scuttling in and out every so often.

“Hi- excuse me.” You tap such a boy on the shoulder, and he swings round to meet you with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. “Would you happen to know where the ladies’ bathrooms are?”

He looks somewhat startled, as if he doesn’t actually know what you asked him. “What? Um, sure thing. Just uh- this way my lady.” He nods, in a somewhat boyish way, and leads you to the patio where you follow him through to where the ‘Ladies’ sign hangs on the door.

“Thank you so much, um…” you were selectively shy, but still had manners.

He grins. “JJ - Maybank.” He winks, before he sees something behind you, a blue jacket from whose owner rumbles,

“The hell’s the pogue doing here?”

The blonde smiles at you before dashing off, leaving you to the bathroom where you rearrange the ribbon in your hair and add some extra lip gloss.

You’d hid out there for about 10 minutes, not wanting to return to a party you were already invisible at.

The door to the ladies oscillated as you walk out, determined on telling your parents that you weren’t feeling well and wanted to return home. It sounded better than sitting here, suffocating in your own silence as you watched people from your grade slip each other sips of brandy while they laughed and joked with one another.

You walked past a locker room of sorts, and saw the very same blue jacket from your peripheral before. He appeared to be roughed up: shirt crinkled, a bit of blood on his nose which he held up to the ceiling.

It was curious, but sad to you. Maybe he was bullied like you too? Though you had never been physically assaulted. He looked a similar age to you, but even sitting down seemed much taller. Bigger in general, as his shoulders strained against his tux jacket.

You returned to the ladies and got some tissue from the dispenser. Before entering the locker room, you hesitated. Maybe he would be mean like the other rich kids. But your father’s doctor in you couldn’t let him sit and suffer.

“Hi, are you okay?”

Not looking at you, the boy- man, should you say replies, “God, Sarah I’m fine. Don’t fuckin’ tell dad about this shit alright? I don’t need him hounding me again.” His deep voice reverberated. Despite the harsh language, the smooth drawl was distinct. You liked it.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at whoever he thought you were. “M’ not- I just came to give you this. You look hurt.” At the hand which was pinching his nose, and failing to stop the stream of blood - you shove a bunch of tissues into.

His eyes widen at the sudden handful of tissues and he lowers his head to look at you properly. He looks you up and down, realising that you are very clearly not his annoying sister.

“Oh, right. Sorry, thought you were my sister but uh, I’m a little bit…out of it right now.” He winced as he sniffled and tried to get the words out, happy that the blood seemed to be absorbing and steadily stopping. “Thanks for, you know this.” He said, gesturing with his free hand to his nose.

It was odd. He seemed weirded out that someone offered him help.

Happy that he didn’t tell you to go away like the other people from the Academy, you sat down beside him with a smile. He looked at you as though you were a bit crazy, but you attributed that to the bruise which was forming on his nose.

“You’re welcome!” You gave him your name, excited at the possibility of making a new friend. “What’s your name?”

This man, in the blue tux and white shirt which had splatters of blood on it now, looked increasingly confused at your eager demeanour. His immediate thought was that you wanted to fuck or hit a bump, given his reputation- yet you asking his name dispelled that thought. You really had no idea who he was. He was pleased about that, for some odd reason.

He could tell by your flouncy dress that you were definitely not a Pogue - thank god - but Midsummer’s was an exclusive islander event, so the other idea of being a touron was out. If not a pogue or a vacationer, then who the hell were you?

“I’m Rafe.” He said. The corner of his mouth twitched, finding it comical how he’s leaving his last name out. He needed to figure out if you had an ulterior motive or something. As most girls, even some of his friends- heck even his own father, often did.

You blushed at his eye contact, you’d never seen such a handsome boy.

He sniffled his nose and winced once more, holding his hand out for you to shake. Truth be told, he found this interaction hilarious. It wasn’t often that people didn’t know his name, or who his father was.

“Rafe.” You whispered, testing it out. “I like it.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Do you live on Kildare?” You asked, though you quickly felt stupid because you were pretty sure everyone at this party did.

“Yeah, yeah I do- look are you looking to hit up a bump or something? I don’t got anything on me right now.” He cut straight to the point. As much as he appreciated the tissues, he had to go and fuck up that Pogue.

This boy, he kept leaving you confused. “M’ sorry, I don’t know- a bump?” What was he talking about? You were only trying to help.

“Yeah princess. A bump. Coke?” He asked, looking equally as confused as you are. He couldn’t imagine why someone would wander into the club’s male locker rooms, not wanting anything no less. It wouldn’t matter anyhow, Barry’s been fucking around and sampling a little too much to get any product pushed at all.

You smile, suddenly understanding his generous offer. “Oh no it’s okay! I already got one the bar but I don’t like to have too many because it’s bad for your teeth.” You supplied, ever the daughter of a doctor and a dentist.

Yet Rafe Cameron sat there, rather stunned. He couldn’t figure out if you were stupid or just sheltered. Half the people his age at this party were already high, or certainly on their way there. Either way, he didn’t really have time to sniff that out.

He chuckled at your obliviousness. “O..kay. Yeah uh- look, I don’t really-”

“Ooh, pretty. Can I?” You got distracted easily, by the stacked rings adorning Rafe’s - very manly - hands. Not awaiting his answer, you grabbed his free hand and started spinning a ring round his finger. This particular ring was a class ring, fairly large and engraved with the wheat symbol.

He was very weirded out by how forward you were being. You looked like you were wearing princess peach cosplay : pink flouncy dress, kitten heels which couldn’t be ignored and a melodic voice that was almost soothing. So what the hell did a cute thing like you want from him?

“Most of em’ are heirlooms, you know generational.” He replied. It was like he wasn’t allowed to have his own hand back, seeing as it had become your new fixation. He felt as though he had a phantom limb, it was there but it sort of just had to sit limp until you were done with it.

“Is it real gold?”

“Course it is.” He smirked. He wouldn’t be caught dead with disingenuous jewellery.

“So pretty.” You whisper to yourself again, seemingly mesmerised by such a beautiful design. You blushed at his very masculine (why did you keep fixating on that?) hands, with lots of veins.

“Veiny…” you ran your fingers along one of his many veins. Then you looked at your own and just saw slightly chubby, much smaller than his, hands.

“Why do you have more veins than me?” You wondered aloud.

“Well, I don’t know don’t guys have like - more muscle n’ shit? I play golf sometimes too. Lotta handiwork.” Rafe shrugged. One thing he did not expect at Midsummer’s, a fucking bore fest every year, was to be interrogated about his veins and have his bling closesly inspected.

“Oh! Here? At the country club?” You ask, a glimmer of hope striking your eyes.

“Couple times a week if I can.”

You nodded. Maybe this Rafe could be your friend!! Because, “I just got enrolled at the country club too. My dad says I need to get out more…maybe I’ll play tennis. Or golf! Like you.” You were not one for exercise, but you can’t simply stay at home all day every day.

“I mean- that shit’s more like a guy thing in the club. Most chicks just go to the brunch or the sauna.” He says, being honest. It’s mostly just housewives who like the spa and gym facilities.

That dejected you. “Oh.” You said, looking down and finding his hands again.

Rafe noticed this and felt a twinge of guilt; “But, y’know, maybe you could still try it out. They got teachers n shit to help you.”

He was glad to see the smile return to your face at that. “I dunno. Just need to do something this summer.” Other than reading or dwelling on how your parents couldn’t hang out with you. It was becoming pathetic.

Rafe’s bleeding had finally stopped so he threw the tissue in the trash. “Is my nose all fucked up?” He asked. “My dad’ll kill me if he sees I got in a fight.”

Upon inspection of his face, you realised that he was very handsome. Perfectly symmetrical with a good jawline. “Uh-uh,” you replied. “S’ just a lil’ red. Like a reindeer.”

He smiled at the comparison, looking to the ceiling as he poked and prodded his nose. “Okay, it ain’t broken so that’s good.”

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’d you get in a fight with? Is someone bullying you?” You question with conviction in your voice, full of compassion and sympathy. That made the Cameron smile a genuine smile. Not many people cared or paid mind to his antics. Never had he been seen as the victim before either.

He laughed at the idea of someone bullying him. He was a Cameron - he was untouchable. The scrunch of your eyebrows which indicated your genuine worry for him was rather endearing though.

“Bullied? Nah. S’ just- s’ just these freakin’ Pogues y’know? Can’t trust em’, even on our side of the island.” He shook his head, turning to face you more on the bench. He got viscerally agitated at the mention of these ‘pogues’, whoever they were.

“Pogues?” You question. You’ve lived here for roughly three years and have never heard of this group. Were they a band?

Rafe noted your confusion once more. “Yeah, from the cut. Just a bunch of lowlifes and basket cases. Don’t associate with them, okay?”

You appreciated how he was giving you advice. No one ever really told you the ins and outs of Kildare, so you were grateful for his guidance. “O-okay. How do I know who is a Pogue?” You wondered.

“Well y’know. They’ll prolly try and steal from you. They look roughed up a lot. Not a lot of money on that side of the island.”

“Ohh. Okay. If they’re Pogues then what are we?”

He looked you up and down - yeah you were definitely part of that ‘we’. “I guess they’d call us kooks. Kooks and pogues sort of don’t mix. S’ why they’re on the cut and we’re here on figure 8 y’know. They just forgot tonight to stick to their land.”

Your eyebrows scrunched up, “So the Pogues beat you up? Should I talk to them?”

Rafe Cameron let out a closed mouth laugh as he was becoming increasingly endeared with your naïveté. Moreover, the way you seemed to truly care. Your big wide eyes focused on him as he considered how to answer.

“I mean they tried. You should see the other guy. But uh- nah. Don’t bother talking to them. They’re pretty set in their ways. Don’t bother going to the cut either. Nothing there for a girl like you.” He warned. He could only imagine the ways a guy like JJ Maybank could take advantage of you and your obvious innocence.

“Alright. Thanks for the advice Rafe.” You gave a tentative smile and blush. This Rafe was really handsome. You could tell from beneath his shirt and jacket that he was muscular. The way his thighs strained against his suit. His neck which had veins branching out all over and a prominent adam’s apple.

He nodded while pursing his lips. He went to speak but a figure appeared at the door.

“Rafe man, cmon’ let’s get out of here. Sarah’s ignoring me and the Pogues crashed. We need to go.” A boy wearing a similar suit to Rafe was. He was tall and blonde, but definitely not as cute as Rafe was! Not to you anyways.

“Uh,” Rafe looked at you and then to his friend. He looked like he wanted to say something. “Y-yeah Top m’ coming. Jus’ meet me outside alright? Shit’s in the glove compartment.”

You saddened at the thought of your new friend leaving. You were just getting to know each other!

He turned back to you and assessed you one more time. Doe eyes met his as you waited for him to speak.

“Maybe I’ll see you around huh? At the club or something.”

Your smile gleamed once more as the prospect of seeing Rafe again. He was just so nice and helpful! You were definitely going to have to use that membership now. Your head moved up and down to indicate a shy yes.

He smirked as he stood, looking down as you remained on the bench. From this angle, he looked just so much bigger. Like a predator eyeing its prey as he loomed over you.

“Alright then. Remember what I said, no pogues.” He warned again, sniffing his nose.

You nodded, still not fully understanding but trusting this Rafe guy’s word. He seems smart. “No Pogues.” You echo back, effectively bringing out his boyish grin.

“Okay, good. Good girl. I’m gonna go so just enjoy the rest of the party okay? Be seein’ you.” He said as he exited the room backwards, jutting his chin towards you before taking off entirely.

There was a fuzzy feeling brewing in your stomach. Glee. It was pure, unadulterated glee. What had started out as a boring party had turned into a monumental moment for you. You’d just made your first real friend on Kildare. And he hinted that he would want to see you again! And he was super pretty and muscular and tall! Though you didn’t know what that had to do with it.

You decided that you’d go home and go shopping for some country club outfits. Something to make you look cute, probably pink. You wilted at the thought of actually trying to learn golf, but if it meant you could maybe one day play with Rafe - then you would do it.

You just couldn’t wait.

——————————— ୨୧ ————————————

Author’s Note : Ahhh! My first fic. I love reader she is just so cute and wholesome like LOL she thinks this guy wants to be her friend. Later in this series she’s really only comfortable w Rafe since he is basically her only friend and is super shy w other people. This was just to set up and show how they met!! I hope you enjoyed :-D

[voxsremotec0ck]

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐄𝐲𝐞.ᐟ

ᯤ Vox x Fem!Reader

ᯤ Stalking, obsessive and possessive behavior, voyeurism, nsfw

˗ˏˋ While Vox monitors Alastor the Hazbin Hotel, he takes an interest in the newest guest ˎˊ˗

Vox could kill Pentious for getting caught before successfully placing a single camera inside the hotel

Now he was stuck just watching the outside of the damn place

He wouldn’t even be doing this if Alastor hadn’t come back to ruin his life

FUCK

Vox once again sat in his monitor room working on multiple projects while keeping an eye on the shitty hotel

When for the first time in months

A new sinner walked up to the tall building and knocked on the door

He didn’t recognize you which instantly put him on edge

Now there was ANOTHER demon he had to monitor

At first you were just another non-Alastor resident to him

But slowly you became something more

You spent a lot of time out on the balcony right in his view

Reading, morning coffee, or just playing on your phone you were almost constantly outside

Which confused him because who the fuck wants to look around at Hell but whatever

At some point he started to pay attention to what books you read and how you liked your coffee

His interest in you got to the point where he stopped caring about what Alastor was doing

All Vox wanted was a chance to see you

Eventually you consumed his every thought

You were just so…

Perfect

He needed to figure out how to get a camera inside your room

Turns out he didn’t even need to do anything because one day you brought one of his products

And that was probably the greatest day of his life because FINALLY he got to see you up close

You were even more beautiful with your eyes peering right into his monitor

Vox took a screenshot and saved it to a private folder

One that would quickly fill up

Now he had unlimited access to anything he wanted to know about you

Search history, social media accounts, what kind of shows you like to watch

He stored all the information away for when he eventually made his move on you

Then one night something magical happened

It was late and you were still up

Which meant Voxs was still up to

As you were scrolling through Hells twitter a clip from a porno popped up on your timeline

And instead of scrolling away you watched it

And Vox watched you watch it

Eventually you clicked on the account and scrolled through the multiple porn clips on it

Skipping any that included Angel Dust because he was your friend and that was just weird

Vox watched you through the camera

He watched as your pupils dilated and your cheeks turn red and your breath become heavy

He was so hard it hurt

And when it became obvious that you were touching yourself, the camera shaking and little noises falling from your lips

He pulled his dick out of his dress pants and stroked himself to your fucked out face

Vox couldn’t give to shits about the porn you were watching

Honestly he wished he could mute it so he could hear you better

But this would have to do

He wanted to see what face you’d make when you came

And so desperately wished he was the one forcing those moans from your throat

One day

One day he would get to pull your legs apart and push his cock inside of you

Making you scream his name loud enough for all of Pride Circle to hear

When you came your head tilted back on a long moan

Your eyes closing with a look of pure bliss

And Vox had never cum so hard

He felt himself glitching as he spilled all over his hand and desk

Fuck

If this is how it felt just fucking his hand to your little moans and pleasured filled face

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be inside of you

Vox needed to find a way to make you his

The sooner the better

Sigh… I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m attracted to a man with a TV head

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Bakugou Katsuki

Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Shigaraki Tomura

Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Keigo Takami - Hawks

Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku

Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Shoto Todoroki

Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Touya Todoroki - Dabi

Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

[lives-in-midgard]

Finally, Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you hear a loud noise in the middle of the night, you think someone is breaking into your apartment, turns out it's just Bucky who is back from his mission.

Word Count: 820

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for helping me decide what to post, with voting on this poll. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with a superhero wasn’t always easy. Especially if you are a civilian and living a normal life. Well, actually it’s not that normal anymore since you started dating Bucky Barnes. Now you always have to worry when he is on a mission, but when he gets home, Bucky immediately drives to your apartment. Bucky loves you so much and so do you. You had been dating for a few months when you decided to move in together.

You love living with Bucky. From waking up cuddled up with him to going for a walk, cooking together and watching your favorite shows or movies together. Another thing you like to do is reading next to each other and then discuss what happened in the book.

You were currently cooking dinner, normally you would cook with Bucky, but this time you were cooking alone because Bucky was on a mission, which he had already been for three weeks. You weren’t sure where he was or when he would be back. You just knew that it was a dangerous mission and to protect you, Bucky didn’t want to tell you anything about it.

Before Bucky left, he promised you that he would come back home to you and you’re believing and hoping that it’s true and he will come back home soon.

You missed Bucky so much and felt so lonely without him. You started to miss him a lot and everything felt different when he wasn’t here. Especially coming home after work to an empty apartment and no one is waiting for you. Bucky also missed you so much and couldn’t wait to see again. He did his best on this mission, so that he could be home as quickly as possible.

It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t sleep again. You missed Bucky’s arms around you and how he always gave you a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight. After lying there for a while, you started to overthink and couldn’t get the idea out of your head that something might have happened to Bucky. You heard the wind outside and some strange noises. Suddenly you heard a loud bang, and someone mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You sat up in your bed and listened carefully. Suddenly you heard someone opening your apartment door.

Shit, someone broke into your apartment. You thought and reached for the gun, you put in the bedside table in case something happens. Bucky taught you how to use it, even though he hoped you would never need it. You stood up and took a deep breath. You had to be brave for Bucky.

You quietly opened the door to your bedroom a bit, held the gun in front of your body and then said loudly.

“Wherever you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” You opened the door more and took a step out of your bedroom. Suddenly the light went on and you saw Bucky standing a few steps away from you.

“Doll.” He said softly.

“Bucky you’re home.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you watched Bucky walking closer to you. He gave you a soft smile and said.

“Yeah, I’m finally back home with my girl.” He looked at the gun and then back at you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky said and then you realized that you still had the gun in your hands and got nervous.

“Let me take the gun, doll.” Bucky said and you nodded. Then he gently took the gun from your hand and put it in his back pocket. After that, Bucky opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, sweetheart.” You don’t know how long you stood there, hugging each other and telling the other one how much you love and missed each other. After a while you turned away and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and his metal hand on your back and pulled you into a passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s go cuddle.” Bucky said and you giggled, which made Bucky smile. He kissed your forehead and then you went to your bedroom. Bucky changed into different clothes and laid down next to you. Then you laid your head on his chest and Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

You laid there for a while when Bucky suddenly broke the silence.

“Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You looked up at him with a smile and Bucky gently rubbed your back.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Bucky and you then started talking about some places that you both have wanted to visit for a while and you can’t wait to see these beautiful places with Bucky. After a while, you nodded off in your boyfriend's loving embrace.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[imperialaphrodite]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

[puckinghischier]

Hat Trick

Nico Hischier x fem!reader, Jack Hughes x platonic!reader, Luke Hughes x platonic!reader

summary: part 4 of the locksmith series! reader attends her first ever devil’s hockey game, and leaves a few pucks richer than when she came

notes: y’all i think this is my favorite part of this lil series so far. i literally wrote this in one sitting. i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you are too!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

[6k]

part 1, part 2, part 3

~

You’ve been to a lot of Hughes centered hockey games in your life. You’ve been to watch both Quinn and Luke play during their time in Michigan, and you’ve been to watch several of Jack’s minor league games when you were teenagers.

Though somehow, despite how long you’ve been intertwined with the hockey breathing family, you had never been to a professional game. You talked about making a trip to Vancouver with your family at some point to watch Quinn, but it never worked out with your school schedule. You wanted to come watch Jack with the Devils a few times, too, but the plans always fell through.

You wish you’d tried harder right about now, because walking into the Prudential center, red and black everywhere you look, you’re a little overwhelmed.

Jack had told you exactly where to go and who to call if you got lost, but getting there wasn’t the issue. Finally having your car with you helped with that, considering it was delivered just yesterday. The company that you hired to haul your car to you had gotten the date of your move wrong, so you had been depending on Jack and Luke for rides anywhere outside of walking distance.

Today, though, they were needed at the rink far earlier than you would’ve been allowed in. And, in true superstitious hockey player fashion, they claim they can’t ride to the rink together for home games because the last time they did they lost the game. So, you were extremely excited when you got the call that your car had just been parked outside of the apartment complex the day before.

You had found the arena just fine, leaving your car with the valet Jack had told you to go to. You had gone to the entrance designated for friends and family of the players, flashing the locker room pass Jack had given you, and even managed to find your way to the public areas of the arena by yourself.

The issue you had run in to stems from the fact that not only had you never attended an NHL game before, but you had never attended an NHL game alone.

Even though you blended in with the crowd outwardly, donning a devil’s jersey like everyone else, you were way out of your element. Usually at the boys’ games you had Ellen and Jim with you, or your own parents. They always made you feel like you belonged a little more, because they would explain certain fan behavior to you.

You knew all you had to do was simply sit and watch the game, but with the energy being so chaotic leading to the rivalry game, you knew that the fans were going to be absolutely buzzing. People were walking past you, jumping in front of you for high-fives and fist bumps, yelling “GO DEVS!” before walking away like nothing had ever happened. You didn’t miss the occasional dirty look from anyone in a blue Rangers jersey, either.

When you had first made your way to the foyer area at the front of the arena, you had already seen security having to separate a Devils fan and a Rangers fan. They had been screaming at one another over something that you couldn’t make out when the Rangers fan slammed his fist into the Devils fan’s cheek.

The scene made you a little apprehensive about how the game was going to go. You knew this was one of the biggest rivalries that existed in the hockey world, and you had read that the Rangers had a tendency to play extremely physical, so you were nervous for all of the Devils players you were growing fond of.

You eventually make your way to your seat, but not before going full fan mode and buying a foam finger at one of the many merchandise stands you passed on your way. You thought Jack and Luke would get a kick out of it, figuring you’d need all the help you could get after they see what you’re wearing.

You kept your promise to Nico, currently sporting the number 13 on your back. You felt a little silly, honestly. You had never not worn a Hughes jersey to a hockey game before; you always wore the jersey of whatever brother you were watching, even if you had to buy one. But the conversation you had with Nico a few nights prior kept playing on a loop in your mind. The promise of a hat trick was too tempting to miss out on. Plus, even if he didn’t get a hatty, you knew you’d have the chance to make him do anything you wanted him to.

As you walk down the stairs towards your seat, foam finger on display proudly, you take in the pure atmosphere of the place. The arena looked huge from where you stood, lights dimmed and a red shadow cast over everything in sight. Not many people had made their way into the seating area yet, but there were a few fans bunched around the glass, waiting for the players to come out and start their warm ups.

You were pleasantly surprised when you found your seat free of any bodies, being able to settle in and wait for the arrival of the players on the ice. As the minutes ticked by, a few people made their way to your area, smiles and chants of ‘go Devils!’ once again filling the air around you.

You could see why people enjoyed coming to games so much. The sense of community was so strong in this building. Everyone was here to support the same cause, one goal in mind: a Devils win. You started to survey all the signs that fans had brought, setting them up against the glass for the players to see. Some of them had clever saying or riddles on them, some simply reading “puck?” with their favorite player’s number on it.

You also noted how many people were wearing Jack and Luke’s last name on their back. Even as you were driving up to the arena, you noticed the large presence of 86’s and 43’s surrounding you. It was odd, really, to see how many people were supporting your boys. It made your heart swell with pride, a little bit. To physically see the amount of people that believe in them the way you always have was enough to sell you on attending every Devils game from here until the end of time.

The newfound knowledge also further calmed your nerves surrounding your decision of wearing Nico’s jersey tonight. You had seen plenty of number 13’s floating around in the crowd, too, but Jack and Luke clearly had no lack of fan support.

The sound of pucks hitting the ice is what broke your attention from observing the people around you. You instantly clocked Luke’s curls, finding Jack not far from where Luke had settled on the ice. You looked around, trying to find a familiar head of brown hair you hadn’t seen nearly enough. Was he not warming up today? Was he okay? Did Luke actually hurt him the other day and he wasn’t playing today?

You don’t remember either of your roommates mentioning that their captain was hurt. That’s something they would’ve mentioned at least once, right? You continue to scan the ice for any sign of the Swiss man you couldn’t get off of your mind, not paying attention when Jack started skating in your direction. A loud bang on the glass in front of you was what finally broke your investigation.

“You’re here!” Jack yells through the glass at you, ignoring all the shouts of his name from the people standing around you.

“I told you I wasn’t going to miss it!” you shouted back, wondering if he could even hear you in the noisy environment.

Movement behind Jack caught your eye, Luke making his way over to stand next to his brother, causing an entirely new wave of sound to erupt around you.

“Bouy! You made it!” Luke shares his brother’s surprise, eyes flitting down to the jersey you’re wearing, noticing the black C that neither his nor Jack’s jersey had.

“Did you guys really have no faith I would show up tonight? Am I that bad of a friend?” you ask them, wondering why they thought you would be a no-show.

“Know it isn’t your scene, is all,” Jack shouts back, shrugging his shoulders, smile on his face.

“Uh-uh, it is now. Look, I even bought a foam finger! I’m legit, now!” you wave your newest Devils merch around.

They both shake their heads and laugh, your eyes wandering to the ice behind them once again.

“Who ya looking for, huh?” Luke is the one to notice they no longer held your attention, turning his head to look at his teammates warming up behind them.

“Oh, no one. Just, taking it all in,” you try to recover. Luke simply looks at you, the moment he caught you staring at Nico in your living room in the back of his mind.

“It’s awesome, right? I’m telling you, you’ll be wanting to come to every home game by the end of the night. There’s nothing like a Devils home game,” Jack tells you, oblivious to Luke’s implications moments ago.

Jack must have decided it was time to acknowledge some of the fans around you, skating off after he finishes his statement.

“He’ll be out in a minute, just so you know. Got hung up in a pre-game interview,” Luke’s muffled voice travels through the glass.

“Huh? Who? What’re you talking about?” you look at him, confusion taking over your features.

Luke deadpans at you, basically telling you to cut the bullshit. “You know who, Y/N.”

“Really, don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here for you and Jack, remember?” you remind him.

“Yeah? Then why do you have Cap’s jersey on?” Luke questions, raising an eyebrow at you.

Your head shoots down to look at the jersey you were wearing, cheeks turning red. You had almost forgotten you were even wearing it, too distracted by the atmosphere around you.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with that, by the way. He’ll be getting an earful once he gets out here, don’t you worry. And god help him when Jack finally notices. Might be the first time a player gets a penalty against his own teammate,” Luke continues, looking over to where Jack is chucking pucks over the ice a few feet away.

“It was Nico’s idea. Said he wanted to mess with you guys, is all. Then said if I wore it he would score a hat trick, and if he didn’t he owed me a favor of my choosing. Figured it’d be fun to mess with him and make him do some outrageous task. You know I never miss the opportunity to get under yours and Jack’s skin, either. Couldn’t resist the offer,” you confess.

Luke rolls his eyes, not wanting to call bullshit out here in the open like this, deciding to save the rest of the conversation for when you get home tonight.

You were going to respond, try to further plead your case, when you see a blur of red jump onto the ice from over near the Devils’ bench. Any attention you had granted to Luke was gone, watching a much anticipated head of hair flopping around as Nico does a few circles on the ice. You watch him wave to a few fans around the glass, conversing with a few of his teammates as he made his way around the ice.

Luke watches you follow Nico’s figure glide around on the ice, laughing to himself at how you were just trying to convince him you weren’t looking for anyone.

“I think I’ve proved my point,” you barely hear as Luke starts to skate away, noticing his captain skating over towards your section of the glass.

You’ve tuned out the shouts of Nico’s name around you as he makes eye contact with you, skating towards you with a smile.

“Hey! You’re here!” he winks at you, parroting Jack and Luke’s words. “And I see you chose the right jersey!” he lets his eyes fall to the jersey swallowing your body, eyes a bit bright than they were a few seconds ago.

“Why did no one think I was going to show up?” you huff out, throwing your arms up, foam finger still attached to your hand.

“Jack and Luke were convinced you’d bail because of your aversion to hockey crowds. But I see you’ve made yourself right at home,” he chuckles, nodding towards the foam finger.

“Well, yeah. Had to make myself official, y’know?” you give the foam accessory a small wave.

Nico laughs, sliding his feet back and forth in short strokes, planting his stick on the ice for stability.

“You ready to score that hat trick you promised, Cap?” you shout to him, crossing your arms in a challenging stance.

“Never been more ready in my life, Bouy,” Nico smirks.

“If you keep using that nickname I won’t be so nice in choosing a favor for you to do when you don’t score your hatty,” you threaten, hating that Jack introduced the nickname to Nico in the first place.

“Oh, I’m gonna score that hatty,” he moves closer to the glass, making sure you can hear him. “My good luck charm did exactly what I asked her to do, so I’d say my chances are pretty solid.”

You’re so focused on Nico’s words that you completely miss Jack making his way back over to your area, slapping Nico on the back once he reaches his destination.

“Hey, Cap! ‘Bout time you made it out here. Was starting to wonder if someone was going to have to come and save you.”

Nico removes his eyes from your flushed face, turning to chat with Jack as you’re left speechless.

You miss the rest of their conversation, too caught up in Nico calling you his good luck charm. You were entering very dangerous territory, here. Every conversation you have with the man bringing you farther and farther into a rabbit hole you might not be able to climb back out of.

On top of being stunned, you’re also confused. You’ve overheard Luke and Jack talk about Nico’s interactions with women. The amount of times they’ve poked fun at his obliviousness to women’s advances not forgotten. Or the way they claim he’s too focused on his career to think about anything other than hockey. You remember one story Jack told of Nico completely misreading a conversation with a woman at the bar, begging Jack to take him home after he all but ran away from the woman, claiming a stomach ache when she tried to coax him into an uber.

So, what was different about you? He clearly had no issues with casually sliding in comments that, although you try to convince yourself otherwise, are naturally flirtatious in their nature. When you let your eyes wander you notice Luke watching the interaction. He follows the way Nico’s gaze flicks over to you every few seconds, even though he’s in the middle of a conversation with Jack. Luke meets your eyes and gives you look you can’t decipher.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you wearing?” you hear Jack’s voice, snapping your head to look at his face, his eyes focused on the black C on the upper left side of the jersey you’re wearing.

“A…jersey?” you answer apprehensively.

“Yeah, I can see that. But why do you have on Neeks’ jersey, specifically?” He asks you, but looks at the player standing next to him.

“Guess she decided the better jersey wasn’t even in the Hughes family at all,” Nico references the argument Jack and Luke were having days prior.

Jack looks back at you, expecting an explanation from you. You open your mouth a few times to answer, but the reasoning of ‘I just wore it to get under your skin’ doesn’t seem appropriate when you can see the underlying anger on his face.

“You know what, I don’t have time for this. I need to actually warm up, but this conversation isn’t over,” Jack shoots to two of you a glare before skating away, huffing like a little kid.

“I knew he would get mad!” you point an accusing (foam) finger at Nico.

“Don’t worry, he’ll get over it. It’s just one game.”

“Well I’ll let you handle this then, mr. nonchalant. It was your idea, it’s your bomb to diffuse,” you wipe your hands of the situation.

“Gladly,” Nico flashes you a smile. “By the way, heads up,” he warns you before chucking a puck over the glass, watching it land on the ground beside you. You bend over to pick it up, noticing the writing on the back.

You read the scribble of “hatty” followed by the date and Nico’s signature in silver marker, looking up to see him skating off with a wink.

———————————————————————————

After you watched Jack throw his fit about you wearing Nico’s jersey from afar, earning nothing but a laugh from the jersey owner himself, they both skated away from each other to start actually warming up for the game ahead. You noticed Jack kept glaring at Nico, shoulder checking him a few times for good measure. Jack wouldn’t even look over at you, earning a pout from you when you made eye contact with Luke, begging him to do something to make Jack love you again.

Luke just shrugged at you as if to say “told you so,” choosing to focus on his warm ups instead. As the players left the ice to prepare for puck drop, you watched Jack finally look over to you, sporting a glare and giving a shake of his head before he disappeared from your view.

Even after the game started, you could still feel Jack’s pouting from where you sat. He was hesitant to pass the puck to Nico, costing them a few chances at goals. You cursed him every time, worried that this would’ve happened. You don’t know what was said, but during one of the tv timeouts, Nico skated over to Jack and all you could see was a finger poking out to jab Jack in the chest. Jack’s face grew more and more unimpressed as the conversation went on, but ultimately Jack nodded and skated off, rolling his eyes when he looked over to you.

For the rest of the period, you noticed Jack was better about passing the puck, no longer alienating Nico from his plays. He was still mad, though. You could see it in his body language and how he was playing rougher than he normally does. As soon as the first period was over, you were out of your seat and making your way down to the locker rooms. You flashed your pass and waited patiently after you asked someone to go fetch Jack for you, claiming it was an emergency.

Jack comes walking out of the locker room into the hallway, towel around his neck, jersey left behind.

“Okay, get it all out now, or so help me god I’ll jump onto that ice and beat some sense into you,” you tell him, wanting him to get all of his anger out of his system.

“You always wear one of our jersey’s, Y/N. Always. This is your first time watching me and Luke in a professional game, and you’re wearing someone else’s jersey?” Jack asks you, a small bit of hurt showing on his face.

“Jack, it was a joke. A last minute plan between the two of us. We thought it’d be funny since you and Luke were arguing about it,” you tell him, feeling a little bad that he genuinely seems hurt. “Plus, I didn’t really want to choose between you and Luke. It was hard. I had all three jerseys laying on my bed earlier, and I just couldn’t choose between the two of you.”

“I still don’t like that you wore someone else’s jersey,” Jack grumbles.

“It’s just one game, Jack, it’ll be fine. I promise this isn’t going to become a habit,” you assure him, reaching up to ruffle his hair, regretting your decision when you feel how sweaty it is.

“You sure about that?” Jack asks you, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“Oh c’mon, Y/N,” Jack starts, dropping his arms to his sides. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him the whole game.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feel your cheeks heating.

“You can’t lie to me, remember? Know you too well,” he tells you, reminding you he’s always been able to tell when you’re caught in a lie.

“I mean…maybe I’ve been watching him. So what? He’s your friend, Jack. Not to mention our neighbor and the only teammate of yours I really know,” you try to justify.

“Bullshit. You’re into him.”

“No, I’m not!” you say too quickly, your voice going up in pitch, causing you to clear your throat. The sudden change in conversation came out of nowhere, causing your brain to short circuit.

“Oh yeah? Then why do you ask about him every time Luke and I mention practice, or our jobs in general? Why do you always ask us if Nico made it home when we get home from practice? Or when you spent basically the whole night talking to him at the bar your first night here?” Jack asks you, waiting for your answers.

“I- I don’t ask about him that much,” you say, trying to retrace your conversations with Jack and Luke. Maybe you do ask about him more than you thought. “And I spent the night at the bar being shuffled around from table to table, which you did!” you remind him, having felt like you were speed dating, but platonically.

“When I came to get you to leave you were completely alone with him in a dark corner of the bar,” Jack throws back at you.

“He came and found me. I was on the phone with my mom and he decided to come check on me. I had nothing to do with that,” you defend.

Jack still doesn’t look convinced, crossing his arms once again, tilting his head towards you. “Listen, I’m not trying to start an argument. You know how I feel about having a thing for my teammates. But, out of all the guys on the team, I guess you could’ve done worse.”

You open your mouth to respond, trying to defend yourself once again, but Jack interrupts you before you can get a word out.

“Listen, none of this is really important right now. We can talk about it when I’m not in the middle of a game, but I still don’t really like that you wore his jersey instead of mine or Luke’s,” he circles back to the original conversation. “I mean, you’ve known him for like, two weeks. Joke or not. You know what people think when you wear someone’s jersey, right?”

“It’s not like that, I swear. And it’s not like I’m the only one here wearing his jersey, Jack,” you tell him.

“I know, but I’m just telling you to be careful. Nico’s a good guy, but he’s also a professional hockey player. He’s going to have…admirers. And once they see that you’re actually close to the team and his jersey is the one you’re sporting, things could get messy,” Jack warns you.

You stood there for a few moments, trying to figure out how the conversation even led to what it is. You know Jack is just trying to watch out for you, but he’s jumping to conclusions way too soon. It’s one game, and no one even knows who you are. Plus, it’s a harmless joke. It’s not like you’re wearing his jersey for any other reason.

“Thanks, Jack, really. But I assure you, I only wore it because he suggested it. He wanted to pick fun at you and Luke, that’s it. I’m sure he’ll tell the same story if asked about it,” you reiterated, trying to reassure him.

“Wait, he asked you to wear his jersey?”Jack asks you, surprise in his eyes.

“Yeah, he asked me to wear it to poke fun at the two of you. Then told me he’d score a hat trick if I agreed to wear it, so I did. Thought it’d be fun to see,” you shrugged, not seeing the big deal.

“So, he wanted you to wear his jersey and he promised to score a hatty if you did?” You nod at Jack’s echo of your words.

Jack stares at you, looking like he wants to say something but decides against it. The look on his face has you wondering if he knows something you don’t. You decided to let it go, though, and shoo him back into the locker room.

“Alright, talk over. Go back in there and get ready, you have some Rags to beat!” you push him away from you. You hear him laugh as you walk away, thinking about the conversation the whole way back to your seat.

———————————————————————————

Shit. He actually did it. He scored a fucking hat trick. The crowd goes absolutely wild when Nico’s shot sails straight into the goal as the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game. You jump up from your seat, screaming as loud as you can with the crowd around you. You bang against the glass, cheering for Nico as he celebrates with his teammates.

Once he breaks away from the group hug, he skates right over to you, pointing a gloved finger in your direction. You flash him a huge smile, not even caring that you lost whatever bet – if you could even call it that – you had going on with Nico. You were too high on the atmosphere. The goal causing the Devils to win in the last second, ego a little inflated at the thought that you could’ve contributed to it.

After the players left the ice and the crowd started to disperse a bit, you slowly made your way back down to the locker room, having been told to wait there after the game by Jack. You took in the sight of the happy fans milling about the arena, soaking in the energy for a little bit longer. You didn’t realize just how much you were soaking it in until you realized the time, figuring the guys would be changed and ready to go any minute.

 As you were walking down the hallway to where other friends and family of the team gathered, you felt a harsh contact with your shoulder. It flung your body back, nearly making you lose your balance until you caught yourself at the last second.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you,” you said, knowing it wasn’t your fault, but apologizing anyways.

“Obviously,” you heard a deep voice say, a man in a blue Rangers jersey standing across from you, rolling his eyes.

“Well, no need to be rude about it. You bumped in to me, y’know,” you grumbled out, a little pissed as the man’s response after you apologized first.

“Watch it, bitch. Just cause your shitshow of a team won tonight doesn’t mean you’re truly better than us. Just wait till next game. We’ll smoke your asses,” he spits out at you, letting you smell the alcohol on his hot breath.

“What the hell does the game have to do with you bumping in to me? The two are completely unrelated,” you question, stepping back and scrunching your nose at the foul smell.

“Keep talking, bitch, and I’ll show you just how bad we can beat the Devils asses,” the man steps forward, stumbling a bit before correcting himself.

“Alright, chill out. It’s just a game, buddy,” you back up against the wall next to you, trying to put some distance between you and him.

“God, why do you puck bunnies never shut the fuck up? I literally told you to stop talking, what part of that don’t you understand?” he backs you up even further, not leaving much room for you to make an escape.

“Technically you told me to keep talking,” you say before you can think better of it.

The man basically growls at you raising his hand back. To do what, you never find out, because a voice brings him back to reality, making him seem to remember he’s in public.

“I suggest you drop your hand and step away.”

The man’s head whips around, looking behind him. Once he steps back from you slightly, you make your escape, removing yourself from the wall.

You see Nico standing a few feet away from you, a grey suit on his body, his hair covered by a cream color beanie.

“Oh, how convenient. Captain to the rescue,” the guy slurs, turning his body to fully face Nico.

“Do I need to call security or are you going to be smart and get the fuck out of my arena?” Nico spits, surprising you with his harshness.

“Whatever. I’m going. Don’t be so dramatic. The puck bunny started it, anyways,” the man waves you off, stumbling away without a glance back.

Nico watches him walk away, stepping towards you the second the man is out of view.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you? Do I need to go get security?” He fires off questions, concern present in his brown eyes.

“No, I’m fine. He bumped into me then started spewing some bullshit about the game. I asked him how the two were related and he just kept talking about how he was gonna show me how ‘we can really beat the Devils asses’,” you put up air quotes.

“Are you sure?” his eyes continue to look you up and down, darting across your face to check for any sign showing you weren’t okay.

“Really, it’s fine. He didn’t do anything. Thank you, though. For scaring him away,” you assure him, causing him to relax.

“Of course. Seems to be a pattern, after all. Me running to your rescue,” he references your previous encounters. Letting you into your apartment, getting the bartender’s attention so you could order a drink that same night, his help when you were making dinner just a few nights ago. He really did always show up when you needed help.

You look up at him with a smile. “My very own knight in shining armor.”

He bows dramatically. “M’lady.”

You laugh at the action, causing Nico to join in.

“So I guess I owe you a congratulations, huh?” you ask after your laughter dies down.

Nico beams at you, pulling a stack of three pucks out of the bag slung over his shoulder, the tape they’re held together by reading ‘hat trick”. He holds them out towards you, signaling you to grab them.

“Here, they’re yours. You’re the reason I got them, after all,” he tells you, placing the pucks into your hand.

“I don’t think I had anything to do with it,” you look at your hand before looking back up at Nico.

“Sure you did. I told you if you wore the jersey I’d score one. And you did. And then I scored three goals. I told you, you’re my goodluck charm,” he smiles at you, shrugging like a hat trick was no big deal.

You roll your eyes at him, trying to fight a smile. “Sure, whatever you say, Cap.”

He chuckles at your sarcasm, shaking his head at you.

“Guess I need to pocket that ridiculous favor I had in mind, then,” you tell him, toying with the pucks, thinking about how he gave you four different ones tonight.

“I’m sure you can save it for future use. Think you’ll be able to cash it in sooner than you think,” he tells you, a confused look on your face.

“You won, though. I wore the jersey, you scored three goals. That was the whole thing,” you remind him, not knowing where he was going with his statement.

“You never asked me what I got if I did score a hatty.”

You were taken aback by his words, not realizing that was part of the deal. “Okay…well, what do you get, then?”

“You have to do me a favor,” he tells you, grin on his face.

You furrow your brows, confused. “I thought the whole point of my end of the deal was because I already did you a favor?”

“You did. But now I get to ask you for another one,” he rocks back on his heels, way too giddy about the situation.

You look at him, a little scared at what he has planned. He just continues to look at you, his shit-eating grin still extremely present.

“Okay…what is it?” you ask him, getting impatient.

“Oh, I’m not telling you yet. I’ll cash it in when I’m ready,” He replies, amused at the unamused look on your face.

“Seriously? You’re not going to tell me what cruel fate you’re subjecting me to?”

You hear the voices of Jack and Luke echoing through the hallway on the other end of the room. You turn your head away from Nico, watching the two brothers make their way towards you, lost in their own conversation.

“All in due time, dear Bouy,” Nico says, taking a step back from you.

Your distaste for the nickname shows on your face, causing Nico’s eyes to twinkle, loving how mad you get over the silly name he still hasn’t learned the origin of.

“Whatever. Keep it to yourself, then. I don’t care,” you lie.

“Have a good night. See you soon,” Nico says with a wink, turning to walk in the direction of Jack and Luke, giving them a wave as he passes them. Both of them look up and notice you standing where he just came from, turning to look at each other with raised eyebrows.

You look down at the pucks in your hand once more, looking at the emblem on top noting what game and date they were from. When you look at the bottom of the last puck, you catch a streak of silver reflecting off of the fluorescent lights in the hallway. Turning it completely upside down, you make out the 9 digits of a phone number scribbled along the bottom, matching the handwriting of the words and signature on the first puck Nico gave you that night.

“Hey, ready to go? We’re starving. Luke wants waffles so we’re going to meet a few of the guys at a diner not far from the apartment, you want go?” Jack asks as the two approach you.

You don’t respond, too stuck on the fact that Nico gave you his phone number on the bottom of his hat trick pucks. You’re impressed at how smooth it was, but also freaking out and trying not to jump to conclusions. It’s just a phone number. It could mean nothing. Maybe he just wanted you to have it because you’re neighbors? Or because you’re so close with Jack and Luke. Maybe he wanted you to have it for emergencies.

“Hello, earth to Y/N. You good?” Luke snaps you out of your trance. You bring the pucks down to press the bottom against your leg, hiding the phone number from your roommates.

“What? Yeah. I’m fine. Great. Perfect.”

“Okay…” Jack trails off, giving you a suspicious look. “So, yes or no to the waffles?”

“Oh my god, yes. The answer to waffles is always yes,” you say excitedly.

“Okay then, let’s go. Some of the guys are already there. I’ll drive,” Jack laughs at you, walking towards the exit leading to where the players park.

“Shotgun!” Luke yells out, turning back to see your reaction to the competition that was so fierce when you were kids.

Your mind is once again on the pucks in your hands, and the player that gave them to you. You look at the numbers again, deciding the boys were far enough ahead for you to safely sneak a peek, wanting to make sure they were actually there and you weren’t seeing things. Your earlier conversation with Jack making its way back to the front of your mind, wondering if maybe Jack’s concern is relevant.

Luke just smiles and shakes his head, remembering watching his captain frantically ask around for a sharpie in the locker room, writing something on the exact set of pucks you now have in your hands before bolting from the room like a man on a mission.

[afroditisworld]

Salvatore

Spencer Reid x female!Reader

minors dni

Warnings : smut without a plot :)) praise kink and hands kink, oral (female received), switch Spencer, use of pet named (good girl, love, baby, brat, sweet) if you are not into that please do not read.

word count : 3k

Dating Spencer was never a plan. But here you were, falling for him more and more each day. He was not someone you expected to fall in love with; you didn't usually go for guys like him. But he had something that made you feel safe and understood at the same time. He was different from anyone you had ever dated before, which made him so special to you. You were younger than him, and you sometimes worried that you weren't what he needed in his life. But Spencer was always there to remind you that you were his safe person.

You didn't have always much time to spend together because of his work and your studies, but whenever that happened, it felt like time stood still and you were the only two people in the world. You went out for coffee or a date in a library, trying to find books for each other, and when you just wanted to relax, you would just lay on the sofa and read books.

Tonight was like this, with you two being too tired to go out but wanting to spend time together. He was at his desk, studying something for his new case. He had promised you that it wouldn't take long, but half an hour became one and then two, and you started getting bored. You didn't want to bother him, but your boyfriend was looking so damn good doing what he was good at, and you couldn't stop staring at him. His focused expression and the way his brow furrowed in concentration were oddly attractive to you. You wish he was more focused on you; however, you were afraid to ask for his attention.

You couldn't quit thinking about how beautiful his hands were. You loved how his fingers moved with precision and grace, making you feel an odd mixture of admiration and desire. The longer you watched him, the more you imagined him touching you. You couldn't stop thinking about his hands running down your body till they landed on the band of your pyjama shorts. Spencer knew it he wasn't naive. He noticed how you would stare at his hands and bite your lips. He saw how your gaze remained fixed on them while he was reading, or how you would simply stare at them when you assumed he wasn't paying attention.

"Spence, I... I just," You couldn't admit your desire for his hands; you were only hoping he wouldn't see through your frozen expression.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. He sounded so calm, as if he hadn't caught you staring at his hands, and wishing he was doing something other than work.

"Yeah…why wouldn't I be?" You replied and gave him a forced and awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't ask anything more. The tension between you two was clear, but you attempted to hide it.

"Well, first of all, your face is kind of red, you were zooming out, and you were also staring at my hands." He spoke without breaking eye contact.

"I-I'm not staring," you responded quickly, attempting to explain yourself, but your stutter made you seem more guilty.

You could stop thinking how long have you been staring at his hands? What if he thought it was weird? What if you make him uncomfortable?

You hadn't dated Spencer for a while, and he didn't know all of your likes, so you were afraid to tell him.

When you finally mumbled, "I-I just... um, I really like your hands," you could feel the heat rising on your face. Spencer's face softened, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure to use them to hold yours more often," he said making you blush even more.

"Are you done with your work?" you asked eagerly, hoping to attract his attention.

With an innocent smile, Spencer shook his head and chuckled. "I have a few more things to finish up before I'm done," he said, noticing your disappointed look. "But I can come there and sit with you while I work if you'd like." You blushed again and nodded quickly, letting him know how much you wanted to touch you.

Your heart skipped a beat at Spencer's offer. You could feel his warmth and comfort spreading over you as he placed himself next to you. You looked at him, and you asked softly, "Can I lay with my head on your thigh?"

He nodded, and as your head rested on his leg, one of his hands played with your hair. You looked up to him with doe eyes and made yourself comfortable. Spencer's gentle touch and the way he stroked his fingers through your hair left you feeling desperate. Spencer's hand discovered your sweet place, and you let out a sweet groan. His touch caused shivers down your spine. You knew he was teasing you, so you placed your hand on his thigh and massaged small circles.

Your hands moved higher, attempting to reach the spot you desired the most. Spencer's breath caught as your hand came closer to where you wanted it, but it didn't get far. He grasped your wrist, and you glanced up at him innocently.

"Don't tease me, Y/N." You could see the desire in his eyes, which just increased yours. With a devilish smirk, you asked, "Who said I was teasing?" You felt like your entire body was on fire. You wanted him to touch, feel, and kiss you. He was so close and yet so far away; you weren't sure what got into you, whether it was his hands and how they made you feel or the way he played with your hair.

He looked down at you, smirking, and said, "Don't you want to be my good girl, Y/N?" His voice was deep but lovely, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded before even trying to process what he said.

"So don't tease me, love, and let me finish my job," he replied, releasing your wrist. But you weren't expecting this response, so you got up from his thighs . As you struggled to process his words, you felt a rush of eagerness and nervousness wash over you. You couldn't resist the anticipation of his domination, but you didn't want to wait.

"I don't want to wait," you said as you tilted your head. His eyes darkened, and he raised his eyebrows. "Impatient, are we?" he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. "I like that in you," he added before pulling you up to his lap. He left the file on the small table that was beside the sofa, and then his hands touched your waist.

He cupped the side of your face with one of his hands. "My girl's so needy that she can't even wait five more minutes," he said, and you bit your lips. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand. "I can't help it when you're around," you whispered, feeling his grip tighten slightly in response. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth run through your body. His touch was intoxicating, and you knew you'd never want to be anywhere else than in his arms. Your hands slid up his thighs to the button on his jeans as soon as he pulled back. He sighed and dropped his head back as you unbuttoned his jeans. You were so eager that you almost didn't recognise yourself.

Before you could even remove his trousers, he stopped you with his hand on your wrist.

"Not so fast," he whispered, kissing you again. Spencer changed your position within a minute.

Now you were sitting on the sofa with your legs open and Spence on his knees between them. His hands moved gently over your body, making you feel warm with excitement. His intense gaze at you caused your heart to rush even quicker.

He was now staring up at you with an eager grin. Spencer's hands moved from your waist to your thighs before touching your pyjama shorts. With your help, he carefully slipped them down, exposing more of your skin to his desperate gaze. The air between you cracked with longing; you couldn't wait any longer; you needed him to touch and feel you. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your sensitive core. He hadn't even touched you down there, but you knew you were wet; you could feel the frustration running through your body.

"Please, Spencer," you asked. You had no idea what you were begging for, but you were willing to accept whatever he offered you. He wet his lips and used his hands to remove your panties. You stared down at him and realised that even though he was on his knees, he had complete control, which he proved as soon as his hands reached your clit.

Spencer teased you more, wanting to hear the sounds you made as a reaction to the pleasure he gave you. You bit your lips and pushed your hips towards him, aching to feel more.

"Patient," he replied without breaking his sight from you. He looked at you with lust and need, but he refused to touch you unless you begged him to. You knew Spencer would always make the wait worthwhile.

“Please, Spencer just- do anything, please I need- Ah.” you didn't have the time to complete your sentence and Spencer's mouth was now on your clit. He always knew how to please you, especially when he would eat you out. He was a man with an eidetic memory after all, of course he knew your body better than you.

“You’re such a t-tease Spence” you whined. He looked up at you with his gorgeous eyes and a smirk and before you knew it his fingers were inside of you. You were so wet already that his fingers could easily slip inside you. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, he couldn’t and the truth was that he didn’t want to. It was one of his favourite things to do, watching you fall apart just because of his fingers and mouth.

“P-please” you managed to say again.

“Begging is a good look for you, darling but I’m sure you don’t know what you are begging for, do you ?” he said with a grin.

“Don’t stop Spencer” you cried out.

Spencer was eating you out like a man starved. The fingering and eating duo was phenomenal and he knew that. He was practically making out with your clit.

When he pulled his fingers out you cried out feeling so empty, but immediately Spencer spread your pussy lips with his fingers as he pressed his tongue inside of you. Your back arched and a sinful moan left your lips. Your legs started shaking and you could feel yourself getting closer as you tried to close your thighs together. Spencer understood that and with his hand placed one of your legs on his shoulder.

“You want to come Y/N? ” he asked hot breath hitting your core and sending shivers through your spine.

“God-yes” you moaned as Spencer’s lips touched you again, you felt your clit pulsing and twitching in his mouth with his fingers once again inside you.

“Then cum to my fingers Y/N” Spencer whispered as your pussy squeezed rhythmically around his fingers finding your climax. You closed your eyes and your head fell back as you tried to catch your breath.

Spencer started leaving wet kisses on your thighs and when you finally opened your eyes and looked at him he said “I want you to ride me. Can you do that pretty girl?” he asked. You just nodded eager to please him.

When he placed himself next to you he helped you climb on him.

Spencer’s hands moved tightly around your waist, when he tried to place you on his thighs, sending goosebumps to your whole body. Your hand fell to the zipper of his jeans unzipping it as fast as you could. You could finally see how hard he was. You looked at him biting your lips so innocently, his eyes never looked away watching every move you made.

“Eating me out really does make you hard,” you whispered in his ear and smirked. His eyes darkened as he pulled you by your hair lightly to make you look at him.

“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” He grunted softly “You were the one who was begging asking to be touched.” you blushed and tried to look away. “So if you want to cum I suggest to stop being a brat.”

Spencer always was talkative during sex but now he was being mean and bold.

“S-sorry” you managed to say.

With Spencer’s help, you remove his jeans and boxer his hard dick was licking with pre-cum as it hit his flat stomach.

You decided to tease him some more jerking his length with your palm as you go for a kiss, moans dying in your mouth.

“Just- Just ride me already” Spencer groaned you grinned at him before you opened your mouth and said, “And I thought I was the needy one”. His hands were now gripping your thighs trying to guide you on top of him and without any warning he slipped inside you. You were already wet because of your previous orgasm but Spencer was big and you could still feel the way he was stretching you out.

“Always so tight,” he breathed out. Spencer didn’t move he didn’t know just how badly you ached for him, so he waited to adjust to him. Your hands were resting on his chest, you were trying your best not to fall apart and collapse on him. As you sank down on him he knew he should help you but he loved watching you struggle. So you decided to take matters into your own hands, as you started straddling him. You opened slightly your mouth and a small cry left your lips. Your head fell back and you started moving. With every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him you were taking him deeper.

“P-please” Words were coiled at your throat, coming out as broken sobs, wishing for more but you were starting to get tired of doing all the work.

“If you want something, you have to use your words, babe” Spencer hissed. You tried to move faster but your legs were giving up on you. Spencer could feel the way your warm walls throbbed around him, but he also noticed how your pace slowed down.

“Can’t you handle it, baby?” He whispered in your ear leaving a wet kiss there.

“I can-fuck, I can handle it.” You were I mess, your lips were trembling and Spencer couldn't take his eyes off of you. Thrusting yourself up and down along his cock was causing your boobs to bounce in front of him begging him for his attention. And the next thing you know is that his mouth scatters wet kisses all over your boobs.

“Go faster,” he said plainly with a bit of a whine.

“I can't, too m-much Spence” you whined as you kept riding him.

“Oh you want my h-help” he managed to breathe out. You couldn't say anything your mind was far gone for a while now and the only thing that you could do was nod your head.

“Use your words, baby, you are a smart girl, Right” he teased you. He always knew what to say to make your walls throb around him.

“Pl-please help me” you stuttered.

“Help you with what baby, come on,” he said as he let his hands fall on your ass.

“Cum” you whined. You didn't have to ask him twice as he started helping you with your movement. Your hips were now slamming up too recklessly giving you exactly what you asked for.

“Faster—ah shit—“ you were a hot mess, but believe me Spencer loved the view.

“I'm sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making” he grinned at you teasingly. His fingers sank into the smooth fat, forcing your movements to speed up, and you're mewing, pleading with him to give you more, more, more.

Spencer was hitting that one spot and your eyesight was beginning to blur. He moaned loudly and bucked his hips up into you.

“Feels so good S-Spencer” you cried out. You started getting louder with watery eyes as you got closer to your orgasm, that was the signature of him to go faster. You could feel him pulsing inside you since he was getting closer as well. He placed his hand on your throat making you come closer to kiss you. Your eyes fell on his hands his veins were popping out and you couldn't take your eyes off of them.

“S-so pretty” you mewed before he kissed you. But you were struggling to kiss him back as he was fucking you so good.

“I-fuck S-Spence I’m g-gonna cum” you said.

“C-cum for me sweet” he stuttered softly while he was getting closer with every movement.

“So good…you’re doing so good, such a good girl for me,” he praised, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure your pussy had given him.

His praises practically take you over the edge, forcing you to lean forward and put your arms on his shoulders to hold yourself from falling on him while continuing to ride out your orgasm.

“Y/N” Spencer moaned “I’m cumming, don’t stop, please. Don’t stop” You always loved how he would beg as he was getting closer.

“Beg,” you said as you pulled his hair feeling more in control now as you keep riding him.

“Don’t…nghh- don’t be a brat” he groaned as he came inside you filling you up with his cums.

Spencer needed some time to catch his breath and calm down from his climax before he tried to help you stand up. But you shocked your head.

“I want to be close to you, please” you begged.

“You know actually the chances of-mphh” he started saying but you cut him off by kissing him.

“You know I don’t mind,” you said as you tried to stand up “But if it makes you uncomfortable I can always go clean up” you continued but before you could even get off of him he pushed back at him.

“N-no stay” he murmured. You nodded at him with a little smile and rested your head on his shoulder as he started talking about a new poem that he read.

Spencer maybe made you wait but he always fucked you like a gentleman.

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reblogs are always appreciated !

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dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily

[lure-of-writing]

His little sister

Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister (This should be read only after reading all in a days work and knock before you enter otherwise it probably won't make any sense as you need the know what happened in the other two for this to make sense )

word count: 2.5 k

Note: Hello! For a while I was stumped on how to continue the little sister series so boom! I present to you Azriel's pov. I would love to hear what you guys think about having things from this perspective also! please don't be shy and let me know!

The playful touches and not so subtle glances across the room paired with the seductive bit of your lip as it lifts into a forbidden smile is not lost upon the spymaster of the night court. In fact everything you did never went unnoticed by him. As Rhysands little sister he was more or less forbidden from having any relationship with you that was purely platonic or sibling-like. Much to the high lord's irritation, once you learned of the rules set in place for the general and the shadow singer, you had made it your own personal mission to see just how much you could get away with. Just how far could you bend the rules before your older brother snapped? 

Azriel was well aware of the game you played in hopes of causing your brother a small amount of distress. Unfortunately for him, he respected his high lord and his wishes to much to counter your advances with some of his own but that doesn’t mean he can’t help you accomplish your lifes works of making your brother rub his temples with a long sigh and a shot of whiskey or which ever bottle of alcohol appeared before him first. 

It had been just a few short weeks after your fifteenth birthday when you had learned about the guidelines Rhys had set for the two other males in your family. Being told what to do never sat well with you, neither did being told who you can and can’t do things with. At first your reaction was to find your brother and argue with him until he couldn’t think straight but when you were on the way to his office you bumped into your favorite member of the bat boys.  Azriel was leaning  against the wall of Rhysands office waiting for his meeting with Helion when you were stuck with a brilliant idea. “Az?” his hazel eyes shifted from the dark oak doors to where you stood in the middle of the hall. “Yes?”  as soon as the word had left his mouth he knew you were up to something. It was the way your eyes lit up in excitement and you shuffled over to him with hurried steps. Huddled close to his body you beaconed him to lean down so you could whisper in his ears. Wordlessly he follows your commands. “Would you like to help me make Rhys question why he was blessed with being my brother?” 

The sly smile and trouble that brewed in your eyes was enough to get him to say yes. Not like he could ever say no to you in the first place but that wasn’t important. From that moment on he would allow you to flirt with him and crawl into his lap with no rejection. This drove Rhysand up a wall. He said that they could not try to flirt with you but you never said anything about it being the other way around and you had taken full advantage of that each and every single time the opportunity presented itself. 

Family dinners amongst the inner circle were never an uncommon thing but since everything that transpired over the last fifty something years had the family dinners becoming a more common tradition. After dinner talks and catching up had been moved to the living room. Silently Azriel sat by himself, listening to his family talk. Perfectly content with listening rather than speaking. While Cassian went on this third rant about why he was certain that he could fight Bryaxis, if and big if here, they weren’t so scary looking, when you had gotten up from where you were sat next to Mor on the floor. He watched as you left the room and not even a second later his shadows informed him that you were getting another wine. 

His attention shifted from his brother onto you when you had reentered the room with a glass full of wine and strutted over to him and made yourself comfortable in his lap. Az would never admit it but the feeling of your arm draped over his shoulder and playing with his hair was one of his favorite feelings in the world. As your body leaned into his, the temperate difference between the two of you became very apparent to the shadowsinger. Without thinking he placed his much warmer hand on your freezing and goosebump covered leg to help warm you back up. The slit in your dress had done nothing to help keep you warm. 

Without saying anything he watched as his brother marched his way over to where you had chosen to sit, also known as Azriels lap. He watched as Rhys reached his hand out in hopes of pulling you off of closest friend and he watched as Rhysands face morphed into one of confusion to anger as Azriels wings furled around you to keep your brother from grabbing you from him. If there was one thing that the shadowsinger knew with one hundred percent certainty, it was that you could handle yourself. The context didn’t matter, you could always handle yourself. So while you and your brother went back and front he mindlessly began to rub comforting circles where his hand had found purchase on your leg. And once Rhysand had made his way back to his mate, he had leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. “You are a menace” giggling you smile up at him before shrugging and taking a sip of your forgotten wine. 

Visiting the court of nightmares was never something that brought Azriel much joy. More often than not he was watching for any threats against his high lord's life, now he had to worry about his high lady also. It wasn’t as if Azriel wasn’t capable of handling such a task but when you had revealed that you would also be in attendance, it brought Azriel another level of stress. He knew that you could handle the court politics and the volleyball of words sent back and forth with hidden messages. Hell you had even been trained by all three males and Morrgian. You were more than capable of looking out for yourself but there has always been a part of Azriel that couldn’t rest when he knew you could be in danger at any moment. 

Now the notoriously quiet male, while known for not saying much, always had something to say when it came to you. There was no comment too small that you made that didn’t get an answer from Az in return.  As you finally made your way down the staircase to your awaiting family Azriel had just about a thousand thoughts and compliments he could give you at any moment. While your brother had a meltdown in the background all Azriel could focus on was you and as you made your way down the last few steps he reached his hand out helping you the rest of the way down. Shamelessly he looked you up and down not caring that your brother just might beat his ass for looking at you in such an outfit. Once his eyes reached your, you sent him a wink and beaming smile. Az could tell that you had wanted to ask him what he thought of your clothing choices but decided that dealing with your brother would be the best idea  before he dragged you back up the stairs himself and forced you to change. 

While at the place of nightmares the shadows that sung to Azriel hung close to his body, only leaving to secretly watch over you and make sure you were ok. For most of the night all was well, at least as well as things can get in the court of nightmares. That was until his shadow came back to inform their master of the predicament that had presented itself to you. He watched from afar as you pushed your way out of the crowd and towards himself. Pushing off of the pillar he was once perched against he made his way towards you. Az’s blood began to boil when he watched the random fae male wrap his arms around your waist and pulled your body into his. In two long strides he was in front of the strange male and yourself, demanding he release his grip on you or he would do it for him. There wasn’t a part of Azriel that enjoyed the violence he brings upon those he was tasked with gathering information from but holding truth teller to the male's neck did in fact bring him joy. 

Upon your release he guided you back to where he was previously standing to make sure you were ok and that the random male didn’t inflict any harm to you. After his thorough evaluation of your body met his standards he returned his gaze to meet your and suddenly your cold hand was pressed against his warm cheek and the burn of the two temperatures had never felt so nice before. Once again your hand had found its resting place in his hair and your lips on his and Azriel swore hes never felt something as soft as your lips on his.  As soon as your lips had met his, Az knew he was in for a whole world of pain when Rhysand got his hands on him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Az recently pulled away when he felt the anger of his high lord coming at him with the purpose of making him bow to the power radiating off of Rhysand. “We should probably get out of here before he kills you.” looking down he saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes and he positive nobody can pull off that look quite like you can. The wink you sent over your shoulder as you grab his hand pulls him out of the trance you had put him in. Willingly Azriel followed your lead out of the ball room while you bumped into his arm periodically. “Honestly he just might kill us both.” he felt you mumble into his shoulder as you hid your face and laughter in his body. Chuckling he couldn’t help but agree before winnowing you back to the house of wind. 

After Rhyand had actually considered beating the shadowsinger to a pulp your usual antics had dwindled in frequency which saddened Azriel more than he was willing to admit. During training you kept clear of him in case your brother didn’t approve of you even looking in his general direction and it had been almost two weeks since he had last talked to you for more then five minutes and honestly it was starting to drive him crazy. After a family dinner consisting of you, Nesta, Cassiand and himself he finally approached you. “You're going to the Summer court tomorrow right?” As the resident know-it-all he already knew your answer but he waited nonetheless “Yes?” Azriel watches as you place your book in your lap to give him your full attention and he swears he could bask in it forever. “I’m not doing anything for the next week, would you like me to go with you?”  The beaming smile you sent him was confirmation enough. 

That's how he found himself in your room the next morning helping you get ready. You had asked his opinion on basically every piece of your outfit and Azriel had never been so happy to assist someone put together their clothes for the day. After you had pulled all the needed pieces of clothing from your closest you held up the corset you picked for him to see. “I’ll need your help putting this on.” And that's how once again Azriel feared Rhys would consider pummeling him once more. 

Not once during Rhysands withering glare did Azriel stop pulling the strings of your corset until they were tight enough and only then did he gently pull the strings into a bow before removing his hands from your body. After finishing his assigned task Az thought it was best to leave the siblings to deal with each other and he would wait for you on the rooftop to begin your journey to the summer court. Only after he could assume was a long lecture from your older brother on being safe did the two of you join him on the roof. “I swear if a single hair on her head is out of place I will kill you.”  As much as Azriel wanted to laugh at the worn out sound of his friend he simply nodded his head before acknowledging what he said. 

The week in the summer court with you felt more like two days. Any time with you never felt like enough. On the way back Rhysand had talked to him and you that he wanted a debrief before you did anything upon your return. Gently he set you back on the ground once he had landed in front of the river house and he already missed the feeling of your body on his. He really wished and in that moment that he never agreed to those rules Rhysand had set for him and Cassian all those hundred of years ago. 

The silence that engulfed the room would make anyone who didn’t know the two males squirm from how uncomfortable it was, but these two males had dealt with much more stressful problems and had sat in more silence than the average people did. Azriel knew that lately your antic had been pushing the line but he had never stopped you nor had he ever thought too. Mainly because he didn’t want you too but also in fear that if he asked you to stop you would never come to him again. “Truly Rhys there is nothing going on between me and your sister. You and I both know she only does this to get under your skin and she does that very well. As long as it bothers you then she will keep doing it. You know this.” 

After a long and much needed talk Azriel made his way to the stand outside of the river house collecting a much needed breath of fresh air while he came to terms with his conversation with his oldest friend. A few moments pass before you come waltzing out of the house as if you had accomplished some great mission. “Maybe next time he’ll knock” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about and couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. He didn’t need to ask you what you did as the one shadow that always kept you company told him all about what you had just done to your brother and his poor unsuspecting mate. Without another word Azriel scooped you into his arm while pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. Gods he wished this wouldn’t be the last time he felt your skin against his lips.

Rhysand had asked him to put a stop to your behavior towards him. Not that you made the shadowsinger uncomfortable, gods no, you could never do that. It was just you were your brother's pride and joy and he refused to let the males he considered his brothers to be the reason your heart broke. Rhysand would never be able to forgive or look at Azriel the same and he knew that. Azriel just wished the golden string tying the two of you together didn’t have to be hidden from everyone including you.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

[anotherblinder]

The Ring

Summary || (Y/n) Shelby loses her ring and Thomas helps find it

Word Count || 1.2k

Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings || There are no warnings

Notes || Hello! It's been a moment since i last posted but here i am with another fic! This one just came to mind while i was writing other fics and i just had to write it out! Super thanks again to @runnning-outof-time for proof reading! Go read her works she is absolutely amazing!

Overwhelming frustration surged through (Y/N) as she looked frantically around the house. Even the help was trying their best to look for it. (Y/n)’s wedding ring had gone missing. She swore up and down she never took it off her finger. It was a very uncommon occurrence for her to remove it. Which is why there was such a panic settled in her.   

The whole house had been searched and it still hadn’t turned up. Feeling defeated, tears started to prick her eyes as she tried to remember where she could have lost it. Not even noticing when her husband Thomas had got home. Too preoccupied with trying to find her precious ring. The Shelby was beating herself up for losing it. Deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t be upset and just buy her a new one. The thought of having a new one broke her heart. This one means so much to her, it was the one he gave her when they had nothing. How hard Tommy worked to get her that one when they had almost not a dime to their name. It meant so much to her, showed how much he loved her and worked to get her a decent ring at that time in their life. That’s why she was desperate to find it. 

Seconds after he walked through the door, he could see the unusual panic in the house. Well, of his wife at least. Frances had told him the details of what’s been happening over the last few hours. Tommy let out a sigh before thanking the woman and going to his wife. He could see the frustration and panic written all over her. Carefully he walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.  

“Darling, it’s just a ring, I can buy you a new one.” He reassured her   

This seemed to be the wrong course of action. The tears she had been holding back started to fall down her cheeks. Pain was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. It made his heart clench at the sight, realizing what he said did not bring her any comfort at all.  

“I don’t want another ring! I want that one!” She cried   

At that she had moved away from Tommy and stood looking around the room. The man didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her. It was just a ring, at least to him it was. They didn’t need a silly little piece of metal to show the love they have for each other. Though he didn’t understand, Tommy wanted too. It was clear it meant a great deal to her. Even if it wasn’t to him.  

“What makes you upset about losing the ring? It’s just a ring.”  

Tommy watched as she paused and turned to face him again. Taking the opportunity, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. He’d do anything to make his wife happy again, even if that means tearing up the house finding the ring she seems to love so much. Her lips trembled as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.  

“It’s not just a ring, Tommy. You got that for me when we didn’t have this life. When you couldn’t even afford a ring like that. I know how hard you worked for it. Just to get something nice even when I said not to worry. It showed me how much you truly love me and how far you went to get it. That’s why I want that one, it’s full of so much love. I don’t want just some pretty ring you can buy now. I want the one you worked tirelessly to get.”   

Tommy didn’t know what answer he was expecting but it wasn’t that. It made his love for her deepen as he heard her words. They pierced his heart. Sure, he worked hard for the ring but always felt his wife deserved a better ring. Hell, he even swore that when he made it, he’d get her a better ring. When he heard she lost it he thought it would be a good opportunity, but now? Now he just can’t bring himself to do that. Not when he knew she would hate whatever ring he bought her to replace the one she loves so dearly. Unknown to Tommy a smile had grown on his lips as (Y/n) explained why she didn’t want a new one. Leaning in he gave her a gentle kiss and pulled away to look at her.  

“We’ll find your ring.” He said  

“Thank you, Tommy.”   

‘Where did you have it last?” Tommy asked  

She paused and thought for a moment. 

“I remember seeing it in the garden last.”   

“Let’s go look there.”  

Tommy took her hand and walked out to the garden. He knew deep down if they did not find it, he would buy one to replace it. She would not like it, but he could not let her walk around without a wedding ring either. Tommy is still a man who wants to keep his wife to himself. He held onto the hope that they would find it out here, somehow. The couple split up to cover more area of the garden. After searching one area Tommy came to her favourite part of the garden. It was covered with her favourite flowers with a beautiful bench he had made with a table to accompany it.   

The spring winds blew around him while looking for the ring. First, he checked the table then the ground next to it. Both coming up empty. A glimmer in the bed of flowers caught his eye. Knowing what it was, he got down on one knee and picked the ring out of the flower bed. It amazed him how she could have come to love this old thing. But maybe he was starting to understand. Footsteps echoed to his left and he turned in that direction. (Y/n) stood a few feet from him and Tommy swore she never looked more beautiful. The sun is shining off her beautiful hair. Her eyes shining like priceless jewels, always full of love when she looked at him. Like he was the only thing in the world to her. Gently he picked a flower from the stem while standing to his feet.   

Noticing him coming toward her, (Y/n) rushed over and he could see the hope on her face. Smiling Tommy held up the ring, watching the giant grin that formed on her face.   

“You found it! Oh, thank you Tommy!”   

Wordlessly he took her left hand and slid the ring back onto her finger. Right at home where it belonged. He placed a kiss over the ring, making blush rise to his brides' cheeks at the sudden show of affection. The smile on his face showed just how much he loves the woman right in front of him. Feeling the romantic mood in the air, both leaned in for a kiss. A soft, slow kiss showing the love they still held for each other after all these years. Pulling away, he placed the flower he picked earlier behind her ear and held out his arm.  

“Let’s go inside and tell them you found it eh?”   

“Let’s, then I can help with cleaning up the mess I made in the house.”   

Thomas Shelby didn’t understand the love she held for that ring. Then, he understood, seeing the twinkle in her eyes and it shining off her finger after he found it. Thomas too, came to love that dingy old ring he bought years ago. Because it held all the love they held for each other. It’s truly as priceless as the woman he holds in his heart.