#also nolan never keeps his tongue in his mouth my dude is just out there full 👅 all the time i can’t stand him close ur mouth or i’ll kiss u | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 23 - Surrender [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever.

The possibility of you sitting with a killer who had sworn to destroy you was scary for sure, but thinking that the said killer could be much closer to you than you had thought was enough to make your blood freeze in your veins.

It was as if you were going through the same thing that had happened with your dad ages ago, but with a small difference;

Your dad had never tried to hurt you, but this time the killer was coming after you.

Spencer stood beside you as you exhaled the smoke of your cigarette into the air, your hands still shaky but you forced yourself to focus on the police and the FBI escorting people out of the building while he kept his gaze on you.

“You might be wrong though?” you managed to ask, looking up at him, “Right? Maybe it’s not—maybe it’s not someone as close to me?”

Spencer heaved a sigh, “We need more evidence, but you need to keep that in mind that it is possible. I mean— it makes more sense than it being just a stranger, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t agree that I’ve had the misfortune to be close with two serial killers throughout my life, no,” you murmured through frozen lips, “Maybe it’s me. Maybe I was doomed to survive one serial killer to be killed by another.”

“I will never let that happen.”

You took another drag of your cigarette, “I have a feeling the killer might end up not asking for your permission, professor,” you stated and turned your head when you heard the sound of heels coming closer. Mina ran a hand over her face, clearing her throat.

“I sent Kenz away from here,” Mina said and it didn’t escape your notice how she was deliberately avoiding giving any details, just in case. “We’ll regroup at mom’s place, you, me and mom.”

“Just us?”

Mina clicked her tongue, “All things considered,” she murmured, “So I’m not going to beat around the bush; we both agree that it’s not Kenzie right?”

You nodded, “Clearly,” you said and pulled your brows together, “Wait, we’re sure it’s not Kenzie but we still suspect each other?”

“I don’t know, do we?” Mina asked back and you shifted your weight, looking down at the cigarette in your hand.

“Mina, I don’t—”

“Listen, it’s not the place for this conversation,” she interrupted you, “Mom’s place, half an hour.”

“That might not be the best idea,” Spencer said, looking between you two and Mina scoffed.

“It’s not our first rodeo with a serial killer among us, Dr. Reid,” she said, “I already gave a list of my alibis to your colleagues, so did my mother. There’s nothing to keep us here.” She nodded at you, “Don’t be late, we have a lot to talk about.”

With that, she walked away from you two and grabbed her keys from the valet while you stubbed your cigarette.

“So did you check everyone’s alibis?”

“Yeah, at least the people close to you,” Spencer said, “They all look solid.”

You raised your brows, “But?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, “I need to go over all the files, all the recordings with your father—”

“I don’t think it’s my father who’s behind this. Not this time, and not at the cabin. He wouldn’t dare.”

He frowned, “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Well think about what happened the last time I-“ you snapped your fingers, “Right. You weren’t there.”

“What happened? Luke just said you walked away because your father got on your nerve.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you muttered and motioned at the valet to give him your ticket so that he could bring your car, “Listen, I gotta go. Mom is probably at home and Mina is going there and I can’t….I need to talk to them.”

“It might be dangerous.”

“Spencer, it’s my family we’re talking about,” you insisted, “I can’t— if I start suspecting them too, I have nothing left to hold on to.”

He opened his mouth to disagree but you saw Luke coming closer to both of you.

“Hey, Rossi says we need to get back to the office. Emily and Tara are already there,” he told Spencer and turned to you, “We need to stop meeting like this, trust fund baby.”

“Dude, you guys are the ones who show up and scream murder everywhere I go.”

Luke chuckled, holding up his hands and mocking surrender while valet pulled over in front of you.

“Here you go ma’am.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a small smile before you looked up at Spencer. “I’ll see you later I guess.”

“Call me when you get there, we’re also sending a car to your mother’s place and your place just to be sure.”

You nodded, heaving a sigh and Spencer squeezed your arm as if to assure you before pressing a kiss on top of your head.

“Be careful.”

“Hey I was trained by a serial killer, how many people can say that?” you tried to joke as you walked to your car, “I’ll be fine.”

You got into your car and valet closed it, then you started the car and drove off.

***

The living room was completely silent in your mother’s house. In fact, the whole house was silent, the only noise was the constant ticking of the huge clock on the wall while all three of you sat still, waiting for someone else to talk. Your mother drummed her fingernails on the table, something she would reprimand you for doing if it were another time, Mina bit inside her cheek, her gaze fixed on the wall and you downed the whiskey in your glass, then filled it again.

“Okay,” Mina said and sat up straighter and looked between you, “I just want to say, if it was someone in this room this whole time, we can- I can fix this.”

“Jesus Christ, Mina!”

“You can’t possibly suspect-“

“We’ll say it was dad’s influence, we’ll call it trauma after-“

“Do you hear what you’re saying?”

“I’m just saying, if it is one of us, it’s dad’s fault.”

“It’s not one of us!” you insisted but then you turned your head when you heard the doorbell ring. The sound of heels came closer and Mina threw her head back as soon as Kenzie walked inside.

“Kenz, I told you to-“

“Yeah, spare me the bullshit, I came as soon as I made sure Lily was alright and safe,” she waved a hand in the air and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Kenzie, you really shouldn’t be here.”

“Why? So that all of you can dramatically blame each other? I know how you guys get, there’s not an ounce of logic between the three of you.”

Your mom heaved a sigh and got the whiskey bottle from you, “What did Spencer say again?”

“That it was possible it was someone at our table. It’d make more sense than it being a stranger.”

“So either one of us, or Lincoln, or Nolan.”

Your mom gasped, “Nolan had nothing to do with that!”

“Just saying, it wouldn’t be the first time some man you loved didn’t turn out to be the man he pretends to be-“

“Mina, low blow,” you cleared your throat and your mother narrowed her eyes.

“I know it’s not him.”

“Then it has to be Lincoln.”

You let out a small laugh, “Dude, don’t you remember what he was like when we were children? He cried when he saw me scrape my knees and his mom had to take him away.”

“People change.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if one of my best friends were a serial killer, Mina.”

“He came late to the auction.”

“So did all of you!” you insisted, “You don’t see me blaming you- by that logic where were you?”

“Are you kidding me? My meeting took longer than I expected, go check my security camera footage. Where were you?”

“Mina!”

“I was literally talking to Spencer while it was happening!”

“Are you two seriously blaming each other?” Kenzie gawked at you and Mina shrugged her shoulders before turning to your mother.

“How about you mom?”

“What is this, an Agatha Christie novel?” your mother asked, exasperated, “Ask the driver, it took us more than an hour to get there because of the accident.”

“It could be anyone in that auction hall, yes, including someone in this room but they checked our alibis. Spencer said it was a possibility, not that it was certain,” you managed to say, “They still need more evidence and I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to start blaming the only people in my life that I actually trust.”

A silence fell upon you and Kenzie sat down beside you, then filled herself a drink as well.

“The moment we start blaming each other, we’re lost,” she said, looking Mina in the eye, “Your dad almost tore this family apart once, don’t let this copycat do the same. It’s not one of us and you know it.”

“No one is blaming you Kenz,” you rasped out and Mina ran a hand over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, “Jesus, I’m— it’s just that… It fucks with my head.”

“You get used to it,” you sipped your drink and turned to your mother, “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think it’s Nolan either. I mean what are the chances of getting married to a serial killer twi—“ you stopped talking as soon as Kenzie kicked you under the table and Mina gasped, shooting you a look as you covered your mouth. Your mother stared at you, her jaw dropping and you cleared your throat, trying your hardest to come up with something.

“I mean—“ you stammered, “I’m drunk and I just saw Spencer being all hot and whispering in my ear after there was a murder so my feelings are all over the place, I don’t know what I—“

“Now that she fucked up first, I can say it.” Mina said, “Nolan will ask you to marry him.”

“I was un-fucking it!” You hissed and Mina scoffed.

“You haven’t un-fucked a thing in your goddamn life.”

“I can’t believe this is how I’m finding out about this,” your mother breathed out, still staring at you two and you let out a whine, burying your face into your hands.

“I’m sorry!” your voice came out muffled and Kenzie let out a giggle, patting your arm as you raised your head again, “I- well- my dad was a serial killer!”

“What is that, your out of jail card?” Mina asked, “The same guy was also my dad but you don’t see me giving out secrets and spoiling surprises.”

“When did he say that to you?” Your mother asked, sitting up straight, “Y/N, you’re telling me everything right now!”

“I saw my ex looking hot tonight and someone got murdered while I was flirting with him, I’m allowed to mess up once or twice!”

“That’s a strange way of describing your whole life.”

“Shut up Mina or I swear—“

“Y/N!”

“He asked for my blessing and I said yes,” you murmured, “So did Mina and Kenzie. But I think we all threatened him first, right?”

“Nope, you’re the creepy one in this group.”

“Yeah I think it was just you.”

“Fine! Okay, I threatened him first,” you admitted as your mother stared at you, “In my defense, I was also pretty drunk back then because of my break up with the love of my life, in case anyone at this table forgot—“

“I wish. Maybe I could try to forget it if you stopped talking about it for five fucking minutes though.”

“Babe!”

“And my serial killer father—“

“Having daddy issues isn’t an excuse to be a snitch, bitch.”

“Mina, stop insulting your sister for a moment,” your mother told her and turned to you, “What did he tell you?”

“That he has been in love with you for… I don’t know, centuries because he’s like a five hundred years old vampire.”

“He feeds on money though, not blood.” Mina pointed out, “I actually can see him as an evil lord somewhere, now that you mentioned.”

“Getting information from this family is a nightmare,” your mother heaved a sigh, “And?”

“And nothing. Make sure to get your nails done when he takes you on a dinner now that we all gave him our blessing but I’m so not planning your wedding, my client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse Y/N,” Kenzie reminded helpfully and your mother shook her head.

“Oh but I can’t possibly—“ she heaved a sigh, “I can’t marry him yet.”

Instantly, all three of you turned to him with the same surprised expression on your faces.

“…Were you gonna hit it and quit it mom?”

Your mother pinched the bridge of her nose “Mina, what is wrong with you tonight?”

“I have no idea. Is this what being traumatized is?”

“Yeah welcome to the club, I’ve been here for a while,” you waved your hands in the air, “Mom, I thought you loved Nolan. Don’t you?”

“No, I’m completely in love with him!” your mother said quickly, “He’s the best man I’ve ever known or been with.”

“Meh, let’s not pretend the bar is—“ Mina started but stopped talking when Kenzie elbowed her, “Sorry. I’m just going to keep drinking over here to keep my mouth busy.”

“But?”

“Sweetie, I can’t get married when…” your mother gestured at you, “When you haven’t found a partner yet!”

You made a face, “Why did we teleport into Jane Austen times all of a sudden?”

“No, you know what people would say.”

“Since when does that stop you?” you asked her, “Come on, who the fuck cares what anyone thinks? They can all go to hell.”

“Y/N, I appreciate the thought but-“

“Mom,” you said, “I might just end up alone, okay? You can’t spend the rest of your life waiting for me to get married or find a partner or something just because of some stupid unwritten rule. Fuck those people, let them talk.”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to have an actual wedding either.”

“Who’s coming up with these rules?” Mina exclaimed, “Mom, do whatever you want. This family threw appropriate out of the window long ago.”

Kenzie nodded fervently, “People will always find something to criticize, you can’t let that get to you. If you love him, go for it.”

“But wait for him to propose first, I have a feeling it’ll be the biggest ring I’ve ever seen,” you clinked your glass with hers and wiggled your brows, “Can I please be the one to tell dad though? I want to record the look of devastation on his face. I’ll make it my wallpaper.”

***

The next day, you tried your hardest to focus on work. Even if Spencer’s words kept echoing in your ears, you couldn’t help but think that he had to be wrong.

Maybe he was. Maybe it was someone else in the hall, other than your family or Nolan or Lincoln. It was impossible for you to suspect anyone in your family, and Nolan and Lincoln had had more than enough time to be alone with you and hurt you, but neither of them had given you any sign of being dangerous.

Besides, you were sure that after spending so much time with your father, you’d be able to tell if it was someone around you.

Or at least you hoped so.

You took a sip of your rosé and bit inside your cheek, staring at your dinner table in the middle of the living room which now looked like something pulled out of a horror movie. You heaved a sigh, holding your hand over the various types of knives, the memory flashing in your head.

“Alright Petal,” your father tugged you by the hand so that you could get closer to the coffee table full of knives, “Let’s see if you studied like I told you, hm?”

“I have!” you gave him a bright smile before you bit at the stick candy and he raised his brows.

“Honey, don’t bite at candy, you’ll ruin your teeth.”

“No I won’t,” you said stubbornly, still holding the candy tight, “I’ll brush my teeth afterwards.”

He heaved a sigh and grabbed a blade off the table, then held it up.

“What is this?”

“A trench knife,” you said, looking at the handle that looked more like brass knuckles your father had shown you before, “You can hold it over your fingers so it’s better for…for…”

“Close combat.”

You nodded, still chewing on the candy and your father put it back, then showed you another.

“This?”

“Push dagger!”

“How do we use push dagger?”

“When you hold it in your palm, the blade is between your fingers.”

“So that…?”

“So that the prey can’t see it until it’s too late.”

He nodded, “You really did pay attention, Petal,” he commented and you giggled, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet and turned the candy in your mouth as he held up another blade.

“This?”

“Butterfly knife!” you said and motioned at him, “I want that one.”

“Because it’s called a butterfly?”

“Daddy I love butterflies!”

He smiled, then grabbed another from the table, “Do you know what it is?”

“Another butterfly knife?”

“No honey, this is called a trainer, see?” he showed you, “I want you to practice with this first. It has no knife, so you won’t be cutting yourself until I say you can switch to an actual one.”

You clicked your tongue, twirling the butterfly knife between your fingers, the motion almost automatic. You had become so good at it when you were a child that you didn’t even need to think about how to flip the knife after all these years, your hands already remembered it.

“Trench knife, push dagger,” you counted slowly as the thunder lit up the dark sky outside, “Good for close combat, good for stealth….Stiletto, good for deeper wounds. Bowie is good for—“ you were cut off when you heard someone banging their fist on the door. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and you flipped the butterfly knife in your hand, approaching the door but as soon as you looked through the peephole, your stomach made a happy flip.

“Spencer?” you muttered and opened the door, “What’re you—”

“Are you insane?” he cut you off, glaring daggers at you and you pulled your brows together.

“Huh?” you asked as he walked past you into the apartment and you closed the door before following him. He ran a hand through his curls, clearly the rain outside had made his hair even messier and he turned around to say something, but then got distracted.

“Why are you holding a butterfly knife?” he asked and you flipped it again before throwing it on the table and he frowned at the sight on the table.

“What the hell is this?”

“Uh, butterfly knife, trench knife,” you pointed with your finger as you counted them, “That’s a stiletto knife, that’s a switch blade, right next to it is a push dagger and the one over there is called—“

“I know what they are, why am I looking at them?”

You arched a brow, “Take a guess.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?” you let out a bitter laugh, “I’m done taking it lying down, okay? Last night was the last straw, if that copycat wants to come after me, I say let them. The man who they’re looking up to was the same man who trained me for my whole childhood, I like these odds.”

“Yeah?” he scoffed, his eyes narrowed in anger, “Is that why you threatened one of the most dangerous serial killers of our time?”

You tilted your head, “My father?”

He threw his hands in the air, frustration getting the best of him,

“Yes, your father!”

“So you basically ran all the way here to yell at me because I threatened my father?” you asked as you walked past him, then grabbed your wine glass and leaned back to the table, “Don’t worry professor, it’s a family thing. We’re impulsive. He’ll be fine, unfortunately.”

He ran a hand over his face, “What were you thinking?”

“To be honest with you, I kind of wasn’t thinking,” you pointed out before you took a sip of your wine, “How is he these days, by the way?”

“I’m glad you find this entertaining,” he said through his teeth, “Because I can assure you, this is not funny.”

“Oh come on, it’s a little funny.”

He took a deep breath as if he was trying to control himself, “You think threatening a serial killer with murder is funny?”

“I mean have you seen the look on his face? I don’t know if the video got that but—“

“Why did you break up with me?”

Well, Spencer had a way of taking you by surprise, that was for sure. You lowered the glass and blinked a couple of times, trying to pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Why did you break up with me if you were going to threaten a damn serial killer because he implied he might come after me?”

“I hope you know that normal exes don’t have these kind of conversations,” you tried to joke but he only raised his brows.

“Y/N.”

“Spencer,” you heaved a sigh “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” he said, his voice almost too low, “You just don’t want me to know what I’m talking about.”

“Listen, I know how it might look like but I can assure you I’d do it for any—“

“Garcia was with me while I was watching those tapes.”

Your eyes snapped up to his as your breath got caught in your throat. You swallowed thickly, painfully aware of how he was probably seeing all your tells but even that thought didn’t stop you from drumming your fingernails on the fragile glass you were holding, pursing your lips for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“What—um—what did she say?”

“You mean before or after she said you broke up with me to protect me even if I’m an FBI agent already working on this case?”

God damn it Garcia.

The thunder boomed outside again and you frantically tried to find the right words, but it felt impossible to do so. He took a step closer to you while you stared at him, completely frozen and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Spencer…” you muttered as you opened your eyes again, “Whatever training they gave you, trust me, they didn’t train you for my father.”

“Is that why you said all that stuff back then?” he asked slowly, “When we broke up?”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“Yes it does.”

A sad smile pulled at your lips as you put your wine glass down, and shrugged your shoulders.

“I thought—um, I thought it I hurt you that badly, you’d never want to see me again,” you admitted, “So if you were away from me, you’d be safe. Away from my father, away from the copycat, away from all of this. Working on this case is not the same as being caught in this fucked up web, you know that.”

“You didn’t think you should’ve at least asked my opinion on this?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“Of course I would’ve said no!”

“Exactly!” you threw up your hands, “You might not care about your survival in this situation, but I do, okay? I love you too much to let you get hurt because of me—” as soon as your brain acknowledged what had just slipped from your lips, you stopped talking, your breathing getting faster while panic seemed to flood your system. He stared at you, a soft light appearing in his eyes and you shook your head at yourself.

“Fucking great,” you muttered, “Yeah, um you— I’m— it doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want to do with that information.”

You took a step to walk past him but he had already grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Before you could even ask him what he was doing, his lips found yours, letting that warmth shoot through your stomach into your whole system. The feeling was so sudden but so mind numbing that you thought Spencer was right before, this was definitely like a drug, an addiction. His fingers caressed over your neck while your body pressed against his like some sort of a magnet and a soft whine escaped from you as he pulled back slightly.

“Don’t run away,” he whispered against your lips “Not this time.”

You felt the tears rushing to your eyes. “Spencer-“

“I love you.”

“You shouldn’t,” you murmured before he stole another kiss from you.

“I love you,” he repeated, his hazel eyes locked in yours, “And I’m done pretending like I don’t.”

It was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea, you knew it would put him in danger, but none of that seemed to matter to you after hearing that he loved you. For some reason, you were convinced that you two would find a way, that everything would be alright as long as you loved each other, naïve as it was.

The happiness burst through you, wrapping you in a soft and warm haze as you reached back with one hand to sweep everything off the table, sending all the knives to the floor with a loud noise before you jumped to sit on the table. A small chuckle left his lips when you tugged at his jacket and he tilted his head.

“What, you don’t have a bed?” he taunted you and you grinned.

“The bed can wait,” you murmured as he dragged his fingertips up your bare legs to pull you closer to him, drawing a giggle from your lips before he kissed you again.

Chapter 24

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagines #spencer #reid

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troubatrain · 3 years

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runaway - n. patrick (part five)

a/n: helllllllo i still cannot believe you guys like this series as much as you do honestly it blows my mind considering this was just one smutty blurb that took a life of it’s own. it’s super cool - thank you so much for reading!! i should have the next part up soon because i’ve already started it so that’s exciting (and it will be a proper celebration of the nolan patrick revenge tour). as per usual we’ve got to thank @hookingminor because nothing gets done around here without her letting me dump ideas and stuff in her dms

Part Four - Part Six

also tagging (because they asked): @fratboytj

Nolan takes a deep breath while he stuffs his hands into his pockets, his long legs carrying him through the city and to a building he was becoming more familiar with everyday. Yours. Initially, Kevin had insisted you moved in with him, and Nolan swore he’d have to move out just to keep his hands to himself. You explained to your brother that you needed space, and the second you reminded him you’d meet every girl he brought home - he was helping you find an apartment instantly.

Nolan hadn’t been by, actively avoiding your parents who’d been helping you move in and trying to distance himself from you the best he could. Travis caught him red handed, his flush cheeks outing him to his teammate almost instantly, and Travis was beside himself.

Dude Kevin’s going to murder you.

One time he told me not to even breath in her direction.

You’ve lost your mind Nolan.

Maybe he was losing it, Nolan thought buzzing up to your building and hoping you’d let him. You were like a drug Nolan couldn’t stop doing. He thought about you constantly, a summer spent Instagram stalking you until he heard you were in Philly. Travis told him to cut you off, ghost you until he simply couldn’t avoid you and by then maybe he’d find the courage to tell you he couldn’t do this anymore. Nolan didn’t know what this even was, if it was a string of hook ups or if he had invested his heart into you. He finally got up to your floor, knocking twice on the door gently. You appear on the other side, wiping a tear that was spilling from your eye in a Red Sox hoodie you stole from one of your brothers, “Nol?”

Nolan could feel the pull in his chest, and he finally took the plunge. He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. Your hands snuck under his hoodie, grabbing into Nolan’s skin while you sobbed into his chest, “What’s wrong Boston?”

“I miss home,” You cried, the fear you had about leaving your home was real, and it was starting to settle in. Your parents had left a few hours ago, leaving you in your place for the first time alone and it just hit you. You were hours away from home with no family in the city besides Kevin who barely kept himself alive. The anxiety started to settle in, and the tears were flowing before you could stop it. It was all too much, and you hated that you were letting Nolan see you like this, a damn disaster, but he was the most comforting presence you had right now.

“Y/N,” Nolan whispers, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t stop, your breathing had become erratic once Nolan pulled you into his arms, “Breathe, baby, you have to. C’mon-”

When you didn’t answer, Nolan stood quietly trying to figure out what to do. He could call Kevin, but then he’d have to explain what he was doing showing up to your place unannounced, and he didn’t even know why he came. He wanted to see you, that was the truth, but admitting that meant defeat. Nolan raked his brain, thinking about the way he felt the first time he’d been that far from home, “You have any weed?”

You smile, a few stray tears still falling while you pick your head up from Nolan’s chest, “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“Yeah,” Nolan nods, his hands on your cheeks and a smirk on his face while he waits for your answer. You nod, pointing to your bedroom door, “I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.”

Nolan grabs your grinder, grabbing a paper and getting to work. You watch his fingers, long calloused fingers rolling up a joint. You sat next to him, crossing your legs while Nolan rolled on your end table you bullied Kevin into putting together just a few hours ago, “You said you had a point here Patty…”

“Well, Boston, when I used to get homesick this is what I’d do,” Nolan admits, his cheeks redder with his words. You furrow your eyebrows, this was the smallest piece of information you’d ever gotten out of Nolan. Nolan knew a lot about you, because Kevin never shut the fuck up, but you knew little to nothing about Nolan Patrick, “Open.”

Nolan’s dick twitched in his pants while you happily obliged to his order, part of hoping it was his dick he was telling you to open for and not the joint in his hand. He places it between your lips, lighting the end for you and letting the smoke fill the room, “Why’d you come here anyways?”

“Wanted to see you,” Nolan hums, watching the smoke slip your lips. Your eyes were puffy and red from a few hours of crying, a hole in the shoulder of the hoodie you were wearing and your hair was a disaster, but Nolan didn’t think you could look any better. You pass him the joint, straddling his lap so you could get as close to him as you could. It was so easy with Nolan, and when you were together it’s like everything seemed to click. You stayed silent for a bit, comfortably nestled in Nolan’s arms while you listened to his heartbeat.

“Heard you’re coming back,” You mutter, unsure of how to approach the conversation at hand. Your hand was toying with Nolan’s sweatshirt strings absentmindedly, and you heard his breath hitch at your question.

“I’m fucking terrified,” Nolan admits, tired of keeping up the tough guy act. You pick your head up, turning it to the side like you were taken back by his words. You thought Nolan was different, your suspicions confirmed by his confession. Kevin had probably been injured more times than you count, but he never once complained about it because that’s hockey. Nolan’s words meant more to you than he probably even knew.

“If you’re not ready you don’t have to go back,” You press a kiss to his jaw, and a small smile lands on Nolan’s face. You didn’t know what to tell him, besides a cheesy go get ‘em that he didn’t need to hear from you, “But I’ll be proud of you regardless.”

Nolan’s hands snuck under your hoodie, his hands a little cold and rougher than you remember from a summer’s worth of lifting, “You will?”

“Always,” You hum, sinking your teeth into Nolan’s neck and giggling when he let out a hiss at the contact.

“Are you seriously turned on right now?” Nolan chuckles, leaning his head while you continue to press kisses against his neck.

“Emotions are sexy Nolan, you should try having more,” You tease, grinding your hips down against his lap, Nolan’s grip tightened at your words.

“I’ll tell you what’s sexy and it isn’t how I’m feeling,” Nolan smirks, looking at you like you were the most obvious answer in the world. Nolan’s hands wandered down your legs, the shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination, and if you were sobbing when you opened the door Nolan would have made a point about it sooner, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Stop that,” You tuck your head in Nolan’s neck, hiding your face from him. You could be given a million compliments but you didn’t want them if they were coming from Nolan, his voice sent shivers down your spine - and it was dangerous.

Nolan remained silent, pulling your head up and running his thumbs over your cheeks. His stare was intense, and it was all you needed to know what he was thinking - he wasn’t going to stop saying that to you. You press your lips to his, a groan falling from Nolan’s lips when you took his lip between your teeth, “I missed you…”

Nolan’s confession hung in the air, his lips pressed against your neck and words muttered into your neck. His hand slid under your shorts, sliding them down your bare legs and tossing them to the side. Nolan hooks his arms under your legs, pulling you up to his face and laying back down.

Gonna make you feel so good baby.

I want you to ride my face princess.

Be a good girl.

Nolan pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your thighs, your legs practically shaking with anticipation of what was to come. You look down at Nolan underneath you, his tongue flat against your pussy and you could have sworn this was heaven. You grind down your hips, Nolan nodding and guiding your body against his body, “Fuck Nolan.”

“Faster baby, c’mon,” Nolan eggs you on, and you move your hips quickly, pressure building up inside you. Nolan’s tongue swirled your clit, sending you over the edge, “Cum on my face princess.”

Nolan’s hands dug into your thighs, holding you over him without sparing you a second to catch your breath. He was addicted to you, and he wanted you to know just how much he-

Loves?

Likes?

Cares?

Nolan cared, he definitely cared about you more than you probably thought about him. Honestly, Nolan didn’t care if Kevin punched him square in the face as long as he could still see you afterwards. His tongue teased your entrance, a whine escaping your lips from the contact, “Nolan I’m, fuck-”

When your second orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking from pleasure while Nolan held you up above him. His mouth finally unlatched from your pussy, and you thought that was going to be it. Nolan, however, had other plans for you. You landed on your back, two fingers in your pussy while Nolan’s thumbs rubbed circles into your clit. Nolan pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes were looking into yours, “Want to see you cum this time pretty girl.”

You nod, your thighs closing while Nolan continues to pry them back open. Your eyes were fluttering shut, practically rolling to the back of your head when Nolan’s long fingers curled inside of you. His other hand grabs your chin, “Nolan I can’t-”

“Open your eyes for me baby,” Nolan coaxes you through your orgasm, one eye popping open to look at him while your hips lifted off the mattress. He finally pulls out his fingers, licking them clean. Nolan pushes a piece of your hair from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Feeling any better?”

“Definitely not doing worse,” You mumble, nuzzling your face against Nolan’s hand, wondering how someone could be like that in bed and so gentle when all was said and done, “Stay?”

Nolan didn’t sleep a bit that night, holding you while you snored softly on his chest and lying awake in your bed. He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do about this, but he knew one thing.

Things were never going back to normal.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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hencethebravery · 7 years

Text

Fic prompt for 120+ listeners over @podeverafter: College AU where David’s never even been kissed, and one night he tells best bud Killian while they’ve been drinking, and Killian’s like, let’s fix that then. — @phiralovesloki

+ David Nolan is sick to goddamn death of the assumption that just because he’s… ya know. Whatever, pleasing to look at, does not necessarily equate with being a Lothario. He’s well aware of the fact that this is the kind of bullshit women have been putting up with forever—this freakish, inappropriate time stamp on your sexual timeline—and he’s truly outraged on their behalf. He’s also outraged on his own behalf, because it’s no one’s business who he kisses but his own, and he never asked for your opinion, Abigail.

Abigail was a girl in high school who made going after his dick an olympic sport. It would’ve been kind of funny if it hadn’t made him so wildly uncomfortable. The constant text messages, the invading of the personal space, the updating her relationship status on Facebook when they’d barely spoken more than a few words to one another? But the worst thing about it was the fact that no one could understand why.

“Why say no, man?” Was the oft-quoted catchphrase of his friends on the football team; even some of his female friends couldn’t quite understand his hesitance. All those hormones making an incessant racket in there; you don’t say no, not even to the potentially unstable ones.

“I don’t mean,” he says quickly, trying to walk back the implication, “I don’t mean she was ‘unstable,’ Abigail ended up being a very nice person—”

It’s freshman year in Montréal, David Nolan is finally free of small town USA, and he doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to develop the reputation of being a charming drunk. Luckily for him.

“It’s just,” shrugging the weight of one very large shoulder, “I don’t like people telling me what to do.”

“You and me both, mate,” answers Killian Jones, English Literature major and purveyor of fine-ass drugs. “Cut my own hand off before letting the masses have their way with me.”

They shouldn’t really be friends. It had been an odd thing. Different majors, interests, and friend groups. They didn’t live in the same building, they just happened to take the same literature class. That David had to take. He had to admit though, watching Killian take a drag off his cigarette, he was enjoying it.

“So, yeah,” David mumbles, finishing off his drink, staring off into the woods in an attempt to hide the blush in his cheeks, “I have yet to experience the touch of a woman.”

Killian snorts and grinds the cigarette into the dirt, pouring more of his cheap rum into David’s mug. “All well and good,” he offers genially, an air of well-informed freshman year advice wafting off his well-coiffed head. “But it’s not the only option, is it?”

They had met due to a seemingly contagious case of being too honorable for their own damn good. Getting into it with a group of frat dudes at some bar who could not for the life of them keep their fucking hands to themselves.

“If you don’t want to lose that hand I’d suggest you watch it, mate.”

That had been the first time he’d heard that melodious Irish voice, scratchy from too many cigarettes. His eyes had been shot through with red, and he looked in dire need of a good nap. But he’d seen some poor girl, in the wrong place at the wrong time with her eyes too big and wide for her face, carrying a backpack large enough to tip her over and by golly he wasn’t about to let that stand.

“Oh, yeah?” the towering mass of muscle and testosterone had sneered, shoving Killian in the shoulder. “What are you gonna do about it?”

The smirk he unleashed upon the bar before throwing the one-two punch really nailed it. Unfortunately there had been 3 or 4 of them, and he was high out of his mind and did need a nap and well, David has his own fair share of hero complexes.

He didn’t need him to elaborate on what the the “options” were. He felt pretty comfortable with identifying as bisexual, even though he hadn’t directly experienced either gender. They both received their fare share of his appreciation. And Killian had the added bonus of being an honest to God good person.

“You’d do that?” he asked nervously, trying not to fidget too much. Hoping against hope that he’d finally make it over this ridiculous milestone and move on with his life.

“It’s not like it’d be much of a hardship,” he responded with a laugh, trying to move past the pun and failing. “Seriously, Dave,” sobering up, looking kind and patient, “all you need do is ask.”

He gets out a few almost words before shaking it out and clearing his throat and trying to ignore the vague spinning sensation, says, “Yeah. Yes, that’d be… yes.”

While he'd been expecting something quick, maybe like ripping off a band-aid, what he received was far, far better. Well, in hindsight it was better. In the moment it was a bit terrifying.

It's his own fault, allowing himself to be kissed by the world's most intense college student. Kids his age got first-kissed all the time right? Weren't they all awkward and quick and you end up spitting on someone or biting something you're not supposed to? No. Not if it's Killian Jones and not if you're a world class idiot.

There's a wild amount of casual gazing—like he's trying to figure out the best way to go about it. And he doesn't swoop in or startle him with some harsh movement. It's all slow, careful touches. Eventually he places a hand against David's neck. The cool sensation of his rings is a pleasant contrast to how warm he suddenly feels, and there's a smell. Smokiness and booze, most obviously, but then there's this spicy, old world cologne underneath it all. Only he's a little too young to smell so old—probably pilfered from his brother's room.

"I'm giving this my best, Dave," he says softly, just a few inches away from his mouth, "least you could do is pay attention."

"I'm paying attention."

At least, he thinks that's what he says. It's possible it was in his head, or at an octave too low for any normal person to hear.

When he finally knows the feeling of another human's lips against his own, he manages to catch Killian's passion against his tongue. His brusqueness. The way he can argue Shakespeare into the wee hours of the morning. Rum and smoke and something fruity. Like dried apricots because all they eat these days is trail mix.

David sucks in a breath to make it last—to make sure he's remembering the moment, because as far as first kisses go, well. He's just thankful it wasn't Abigail.

"Thanks," he manages to utter after they've separated, foreheads resting heavily against each other.

"Feel any different?" Killian asks, smiling, with no trace of smugness to be found.

"I don't know," nudging Killian's nose with his own, listening to the chirping insects and late night traffic as he sits there, no longer the unkissed weird one.

"Maybe we should try again."

#ouat ff #cc ff #cc fanfic #cc drabble #captain charming #cc: saved my life #@hencethewriter #fic requests #phiralovesloki #pod ever after

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