#I’ve had this done for weeks now and yet I’m still not sure what’s wrong with it

[antiwhores]

My king ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

King!Bakugou x servant!reader

I’m on break rn but its Bakugou’s birthday so heres this for you guys. I haven’t wrote anything this long in a HOT minute. only ogs remember when I used to write more than just drabbles

Learning not to feel self conscious about every move you made around King Katsuki was like learning to walk again.

You had to be perfect, everyone had to be perfect with the King’s temper. If a plate broke, you’d be shamed and degraded until you were holding back improper tears to avoid more degration, then you’d be fired and kicked to the curb. If you messed up an order, say goodbye to the kingdom cause you’re banished. And if you even showed the slightest disrespect then plan your funeral in the next 20 seconds because you’re dead.

Atleast, that’s what everyone told you when you first started your job as King Katsuki’s personal servant.

So far, you have not been degraded to salty tears when dropping a plate. You get a simple, “Tch, stupid woman.” As you apologize profusely and bow down to the man.

You had not been banished for messing up an order. During a quiet afternoon one week, you were flustered. You had bills to pay, a close friend just died, you needed to restock grocery, and you had gotten 3 hours of sleep from all the crying over your friend. He noticed your puffy eyes and unusually sluggish frame. He spoke nothing about it. But when you gave him peach tea instead of chai he didn’t make too much of a scene. He mearly asked, rudely of course, what was wrong with you; he scoffed at your excuse.

And he definitely didn’t have you hanged when a groan threw itself out of your mouth when he bitched about you being absent yesterday. He only made you get on your knees as he grabbed your face and made you apologize and beg for forgiveness. It sounds harsh but considering his reputation, you were called extremely lucky.

The other staff said that he’d taken a liking to you. They always sent you out to take care of his needs when he was in a pissy mood cause you had a better chance at living than the average servant.

You didn’t speak much unless directly told to. Its how you were trained. He didnt talk much either but he would ask you casual questions sometimes, like you’re anything but an ant in this heirchy.

“Oi.”

You gracefully turned around to face him and bowed down. “Yes, your grace?”

He clicks his tongue at your formality. “Stop it with the your grace and shit. Are you beheld yet?”

You softly shake your head, trying not to show your surprise at the intimate question. “No, your majesty.”

You feel embarrassed telling him your status. Usually girls around here would be married at 17 but here you are still single.

He seems pleased at that, “Why?”

You shrug as if the answer is simple. “I haven’t found someone who I can holeheartedly call my beloved.”

He starts to get nicer to you after that. He makes sure you eat and orders you to tell him (in detail) about your day.

No one is allowed in the King’s room. He says if he wants to clean it, he’ll do so himself. And no one dares to step foot into his den and you are not an exception.

You are still scared when he tells you to run him a bath in his room. You had to conform with him so many times that you invoked him to snapping on you.

His room reked of him. It was intoxicating.

You forced yourself to disregard everything around you in fear that if you looked up from your shoes you wouldn’t be able to control yourself from snooping.

You allowed yourself to look up when you reached his enormous bathroom. Did one person really need a bathroom the size of your house? It wasn’t your place to say so you began to prepare a bath.

Just as you were done you went to head out only to be stopped by the King himself.

“Where ya headed?”

You almost screamed from being startled so badly.

“I’ve prepared your bath, my king. I figured I should head out now.”

You wait for his word to leave but it never comes.

“Stay.” He commands.

“But-“

“Are you arguing with me?”

You definitely were not. You just thought that he didn’t understand that you were done and he didn’t need you anymore. But as he began to strip down in your silence, you realized he understood fully.

You turned a full 180 degrees around to avoid disrespecting him. A lowly servant like you shouldn’t have the privilege of seeing a king indecent. Even if you have grown found of him, you need to respect your place.

You hear the water splash as he gets in.

“Come.”

“What?”

“Get in with me.”

“But sir-“

“Do we need to correct that attitude? Arguing with the King isn’t smart.”

He doesn’t know what he’s asking, you thought as your cheeks grew red. Your body moved on its own as you began to strip down. You couldn’t disobey the king, not that you wanted to. You’ve always had a thing for him. From his biceps to his booming personality.

You suddenly feel subconscious with his eyes on you. He licks his lips, or did he? You have to be dreaming right now.

But you’re not dreaming, his hand dragging you on top of him in the bath isn’t a dream. And its definitely not a dream when your hand try to find something to stable itself and end up on his shoulders.

“You know, I’m quite fond of you.”

He strokes up and down your sides before moving onto your arms. The waters warm but it feels like its boiling against your skin. He smells so good and he feels so… hard?

Hard, against your thigh. You blush a deep red. He looks down with you.

“Like what you see, yeah?”

Fuck, it was big. You expected him to be big, but you hadn’t comprehended how that would feel inside someone.

“Wanna sit on it?”

You didn’t even realize you were now straddling him. You didn’t know if you moved of if he had moved you. All you know is that your here now and its taking everything in you to not grind against him without permission.

Lustful eyes meet lustful eyes. He gives you silent permission with a nod of his head so you began to grind your pussy against his cock in a desperate attempt to get rid of the heat in your belly.

His head is thrown back, “Just like that…”

You grinded until you could find the angle to catch your clit against him. The water was splashing back and forth against the tub. Your pussy clenched against nothing and it drove you crazy.

Just as you were about to cum, he stilled your hips with both hands.

You whined, “My king-“

“It’s Katsuki.”

“I couldn’t possibly call the king by his first name as a commoner.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not a commoner anymore, my queen.”

Before you could even begin to comprehend what he was alluding to, he slammed his cock inside you and thrusted into you at a wild pace.

You gripped his shoulders to study yourself, the stretch being painful but quickly residing into pleasure.

“Fuck!” He hissed through his teeth. He just got in and he’s already ready to cum. You felt so good, nothing like anything he’s had before. He was ready to make you queen before hand but now he’s ready to make a heir to the throne.

Your head dove into his shoulders, it was too much and it felt too good. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. He grabbed you by your hair and shoved you against his lips.

“Wanna cum inside, that okay?”

He was gonna do it even if you said it wasn’t so you didn’t bother responding. You were too focused on meeting his thrusts anyway.

His cock pulsed inside of you, his hands marking your back up with scratched and vice versa.

The coil inside you snapped and you came on his cock with a scream. He followed shortly after you with an uncharacteristic moan.

His ropes of cum filled you up until his body relaxed against you.

Water was everywhere, on the walls and the floor. It would take a lot to clean up but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Does this mean you like me?”

“I just said I was making you queen, fuckin’ dumbass.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst #mha smut

[spencereidluver]

H is for Hold My Hand

summary:  You take a cocky, halloween loving Spencer to a haunted house for his first time. He underestimates how scary it actually is going to be, and ends up being taught a very valuable lesson.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: details of a haunted house. nothing  bad though

Spencer Reid was a big Halloween fan. He loved dressing up and going to haunted houses and eating candy. He was a kid at heart, maybe because he never truly had a childhood. 

This year, you decided to take him to a haunted house on the outside of town. It was an old abandoned house that had been boarded up and condemned for years. A few years back, a family bought it and renovated it, turning it into a movie style horror building. It was one of the top spots in the entirety of Quantico during the month of October.

You decided to take your horror-loving boyfriend there as not only a late birthday gift, but also as a way to celebrate halloween. Because let's be honest, two mid-twenty year olds trick or treating isn’t exactly socially acceptable. After going out for a semi-nice dinner, you and Spencer drove 17 miles east to visit the haunted house.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a haunted house,” Spencer said to you. His eyes were focused on the road as he made gentle movements of the steering wheel with his left hand. His right hand rested on the midsection of your thigh, gripping ever so slightly.

“Really?” You said. You ran your fingers over his, following the bumps of his knuckles.

“Nope. I’ve always wanted to go but never had anyone to go with.”

“Well, now you do.” He smiled, turning his head and giving you a quick peck on the lips. It took Spencer a few weeks to get used to kissing you. For a while, he would ask every time. Last week, the two of you went to the theater on a date. As this was a silent audience, he didn’t want to interrupt. About half way through the show, you felt the buzz of your phone. “Can I kiss you?” a text from Spencer read. You couldn’t help but giggle out loud, which got you a few shushes. You didn’t mind too much, leaning over and giving him a big kiss. 

Kissing Spencer was something straight out of a romance novel. He had this certain way about him, he was always so passionate. The way his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours was something unpredictable. You always imagined him being a good kisser, with practice of course, but he’d clearly done research.

Spencer pulled into the parking lot of the destination. The owners of the house tore down the shed in the back to pave an area. It’s almost as if they know they’d be a city-wide success. 

It was still slightly light outside, the sun having yet to set. You wanted to wait until dark to go inside. You wanted Spencer’s first haunted house experience to be memorable. Of course, anything with him was memorable, however, you wanted to make this extra special for him. After all, Halloween was sort of his thing, and you were sort of his girl-thing. 

You grab Spencer’s hand and turn to look at him. “Hey,” you say, ensuring to keep your voice calm and steady, “I’m not saying you will, but if you do happen to get too scared, we can leave.”

“Y/n, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he says. “I work for the damn FBI.”

“I know Spence, but this is different.” “Yeah. It’s fake.”

He really didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Yeah, it’s fake, but it almost makes it more scary. The people here can touch you, and it’s loud, and basically it’s all the stuff you hate grouped into one thing that you somehow love.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you if I’m scared. But I’ll be fine, y/n.”

He was completely clueless. For one, you were going to prove him wrong. You just knew it. The two of you exit the car, meeting in the front and interlocking hands. Spencer rubs his thumb on the back of your palm and swings your arm back and forward with your steps. 

As you approached the steps to the house, Spencer’s hand began sweating. Yeah, he was nervous, but he’d never ever admit it. He liked to seem strong in front of you, though he’d be the first one to cry if he stepped on a bug. There was something so innocent about him. He just, he was different. 

_____

The line to get in was long, but it moved fast. The entryway to the house was filled with those fake spiderwebs. Those always made Spencer sneeze. The majority of your time in there was spent with Spencer’s arm over his mouth and you trying to convince the people ahead of you he wasn’t sick. 

As you approached the entrance to the basement- where the haunted house started- Spencer began to get giddy. He was so excited, like a kid in a candy store. Except he was a Spencer in a scary house that he was allergic to.

You enter the doorway to the steps that lead to the basement. Spencer trails behind you, walking a little slowly and paying careful attention to each spooky detail on the wall. He held a loose grip on your hand and let you lead him down the stairs. 

As you enter the actual attraction his grip tightens significantly. There was a coffin slightly ajar that had fake blood dripping out from the bottom. A plastic severed hand lay at the gape of the door. Spencer inched closer to you and hid his face in your hair. You silently laughed to yourself and continued walking forward.

As you continued through the basement, there was lots of fake blood and red stained sheets covering walls and pieces of furniture. They did a good job of creepifying this place. There was a fog machine plugged in somewhere, and from out of the fog popped a man draped head to toe in blood stained clothing. He jumped out in front of you and Spencer, screaming into your faces. He then ran back into the fog, knocking over a stack of ceramic plates causing a loud crash. Spencer jumped. Literally, jumped. He pressed his body into yours, attempting to hide behind you. You turn around to look at him.

“You sure you can handle this, Spence?” You ask him. “We can leave if you want to.”

“No, I’m fine. Can you just hold my hand?” He answers, looking into your eyes, almost as if he was too scared to grab your hand himself. You smile at him, taking his hand and dragging him to the next room and through the rest of the basement.

next chapter: I is for "I Knew It!"

a/n: hey guyyys sorry it's been a bit since the last chapter, i've been working a lot and had finals. i really hope i'm able to get back on the grind, but no promises. i hope you all are having a good holiday season! also, i would just like to say that chapter M is a christmas themed story, however it is non secular and celebrated for gifts with the team, not the birth of the christian god. i want to try to make all my stories inclusive to whomever and be able to read across all races and religions. have a wonderful night :)

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie

@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss

@random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

@hookergutss  @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33 @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[its-time-to-write]

Hi love! Im obsessed with your writing. They actually make my whole day!!

I was wondering if you could do something with like protective!Jamie? Like maybe they’re out at a club and some guy won’t leave her alone!

Whatever you like? Thank you!

I did it! I didn’t know what gif to put with this. Wasn’t sure I’d finish it this weekend, but I got it done! I have finals next week, which either means I’m going to have a bunch of time or none at all. And again, thank you for being so kind. Many anonymous requests are not. 💚🍊

don’t go yet

Roy only lets Jamie go to the club when Richmond has won, which is why you’re both dressed up tonight. 

“You can have two drinks. Not fucking four, not fucking three, two. And if you fucking go over, your girlfriend will fucking tell me,” Roy had said.

Jamie had relayed this to you, more than a tad scandalized, but you just shrugged and said, “Roy’s not wrong.”

So now you’re at the club and Jamie’s had one drink that he’s been making last way too long, but he’s finally downed it and you’ve offered to grab him another one. Dani’s in the middle of some hilarious story about his old team, involving shaving cream, an unsuspecting coach, and… snails? Anyway, Jamie’s deeply invested in whatever it is which is why you’re at the bar waiting for your drinks and he’s sitting down. 

You’re contemplating what you want to do to Jamie once you get home, when an unfamiliar body sidles up to the space next to you.

You half-turn away to give him more space, but he just moves closer so you give him a look. The man, oblivious, says, “Hello gorgeous, name’s Max. What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

Any distaste you had been stifling out of politeness ends. “I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend,” you reply shortly. 

Max makes a show of surveying the room. “Don’t see him,” he says, “so I suppose you’re fair game.”

Your drinks appear, and you grab them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hey now, I’m only trying to be fucking friendly. Your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” He’s now blocking your path back to Jamie. You try to dodge around him, but he won’t let you. 

Max does not like that, and he snarls, “Don’t be such a bitch, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind me having a turn, especially if he lets you out of the house looking like that.”

Your words catch in your throat, and before you can look around for help, there’s a tap on Max’s shoulder. 

“Oi mate,” says Jamie, voice calm but eyes simmering with rage, “pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”

Max turns to assess Jamie and you dart past him, behind your boyfriend. “And what’s it to you, shithead?”

Oh god. The last thing Jamie needs is to get into a fight tonight. You know that Nate would love nothing more than to bench Jamie whenever an opportunity presents itself. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “let it go.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at you. “I’m her boyfriend, shithead.”

Max’s eyes betray a hint of surprise, then before you or Jamie can do anything he moves to shove Jamie. Jamie tenses up for a push that never happens, because Isaac has shown up from out of nowhere and has grabbed Max from behind. 

“Time to go, bruv,” Isaac says as he and Dani haul Max away.

Jamie fists are still clenched as he turns to you. Despite the anger on his face, his voice is gentle. “You alright, love?” 

You nod wordlessly and hand Jamie his drink. He takes both of them and puts them down. Your brain is playing catch-up because everything happened so fast.

“You wanna go?” he asks.

You nod again then shake your head. “No!” you protest, “This is your night out!”

Jamie’s hands are on your waist now, and you’re a little grateful because it’s grounding. You’re still reeling a bit.

“Babe,” he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, and you are too. And don’t fuckin’ lie, it ain’t gonna work. You’ve got little circles under your eyes. Let’s go home.”

You shut your mouth and sigh. That boy. He knows you too well. 

On your way out he says, “Can we do face masks? Can feel me face losing its sexy glow.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. Only Jamie can make a shit night into something good.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 17

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts. WC: 2504 (ch 14 when on ao3)

Jason had been pacing his apartment, eyes glued on his phone, for longer than he would want to admit. He just couldn’t bring himself to press the button to call Danny.

It should have been easy, he had a plan. He had run through it and practiced it and perfected. It had step. He juts needed to put the plan into place. That was easier said then done.

There was so much that could go wrong. What if Danny was offended? What if they tried and everything went up in flames? What if it went well?

Jason sighed and turned the corner again, pacing back the other way. What if it did go well? Jason didn’t know how to date someone. What sort of person wanted someone like him?

His phone buzzed in his hands, making him jolt.

Dick Friday 4:38 PM:

         Soooooo… have you asked him yet?

The message was annoying (as was usual from Dick) but motivating. He couldn’t tell Dick that he hadn’t called yet, and if he left the message too long then Dick would be calling him. Jason still struggled to lie to Dick when they were talking, even if over the phone was easier then face to face. If Dick called and Jason hadn’t asked yet, he was sure to be in for a dubiously motivating speech at best and a visit at worst.

Jason stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and pressed the button.

“Hey Jay,” Danny chirped when he answered.

Breathe Jason. “Hey Danny, are you busy?”

“Just doing some of the look stuff for the presentation, I can chat.”

Just say the words. “I wanted to check if you were free Tuesday?”

“Tuesday?” There was a pause as Danny thought through his schedule. “Yep. I can do Tuesday. What do you have in mind?”

“A date,” Jason blurted out.

So much having a plan.

“…what?”

He could recover this. “I want to take you out on a date, if that’s something that you’d like. I’d pick you up in the later morning. We’d have a meal and then I have some plans in Gotham for the rest of the day. You can say no, of course, but I just…”

“Yes,” Danny said eagerly over Jason’s hemming.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Okay— okay, yes, great!” Jason was at a loss what to do now that Danny had said yes. Holy shit, he said yes. “I’ll, um, be by on Tuesday around ten. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Great,” Danny mimicked. “I’ll see you then.”

That was that. He’d gotten through asking and Danny had said yes. Jason hadn’t ruined everything by asking and now they were actually going on a date.

Jason had a date. Jason had a date with Danny.

He tried not to spend the rest of the week panicking

(He didn’t succeed.)

On Tuesday he was waiting outside Danny’s building, shifting restlessly on his feet. He had messaged Danny he was there a few minutes ago. Now he was just waiting. Again.

Breathe, he reminded himself. Danny had already said yes and there was a good plan for the day. He caught sight of Danny entering the little mail room lobby through the glass door and straightened up.

When Danny came out of the apartment, pausing to let his neighbor through the door, Jason was struck by how much better Danny looked than the last time Jason had picked him up. When Jason had come to take Danny to the beach, Danny had looked drawn in— as if the world around him was too much to bear. This morning, Danny looked radiant; he basically bounded down the steps. The red scarf tucked was a bright pop of color tucked under the lapels of the black jean jacket. It made an appealing match with the grey henley and jeans, but it was the flash of silver and red from the dangling rocket earing that drew Jason’s attention.

Danny stopped a few feet away, head ducking as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Morning.”

“Morning, fish,” Jason said. He leaned down to catch Danny’s eye. The bashfulness worried him a little. What if… “It’s— if you don’t want to go anymo—”

“No!” Danny jolted he said it so fast. Embarrassed pink dusted his cheeks. “No, I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I just… I’m a little nervous, I guess.”

“Well, we can be nervous together. Come on, brunch first,” Jason said, holding out his hand.

Danny laughed; all the nerves drained out of him with the sound. He reached out and twisted his finger’s with Jason’s. “Okay, nervous together. I can do that. Let’s go on a date.”

-

Danny hummed as he took another bite of his orange and ricotta crêpe. Jason had insisted they start their day with an indulgent brunch, and being through almost three crêpes, Danny couldn’t disagree that it was the right idea. He was presently full and warm despite the chill of the fall day. It made him feel ready to face anything.

He just wished he knew what that anything was going to be.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

Jason hummed, leaning back in his seat as he considered it. Danny momentarily felt like a creep admiring how the morning light streaked across Jason’s face before he remembered that they were on a date. That totally had to give him permission to admire, right?

“Sure. We’re going to the Gamnhy.”

Danny blinked. “The what? The Gahm-knee?”

“Oh, you don’t know what the Gamnhy is?” Jason asked, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. (Danny knew better though.) “Then you’re going going to have to figure it out when we get there.”

The balled up napkin hit Jason square in his ridiculously broad chest. “Jason! You said I could know where we’re going.”

“And I told you.”

“That doesn’t count when I don’t know what it is!”

Jason, the handsome bastard, just shrugged. “Sure it does. Besides, if you’re done eating, you get to find out what I meant as soon as we walk there.”

Danny shoved the list bite of his crêpe into his mouth. “I’m done I’m done!”

The laughter wasn’t really appreciated, but the sound of it still made Danny smile.

Since Jason had already paid the bill, it was quick to be out on the street. Danny stayed close, not wanting to take up too much of the sidewalk between them. Their hands kept brushing against each other. It made Danny think about when Jason had picked him up and had offered up his hand for a moment. Would it be okay to hold hands?

Danny didn’t really know where they stood. Just a few days ago he could have never expected Jason to ask him out. He couldn’t have expected Jason to want him. Danny scrubbed his hand nervously on his jeans. What if Jason hated holding hands? But he had earlier to gently tug Danny towards him. He must not mind too much, but that was more private and here the street was busy with the day’s traffic—

Warm fingers wrapped around Danny’s, causing him to jolt slightly.

“Hey, what has you so tense?” Jason asked. “If you don’t want to do this—”

“No,” Danny cut him off quickly. That was the last thing he wanted Jason to think. He squeezed Jason’s hand, enjoying the way their callouses fit together. “I want to be here. This is great— perfect. I guess I’m just over thinking things.”

“Well, good thing we’re at our destination then. I’m pretty sure it can distract even your brain,” Jason said, tilting his head to the left.

Danny leaned around him to see and gasped. “The natural history museum? I’ve been wanting to go!”

“I thought you might’ve been. But yeah, the Gotham Museum of Natural History: GMNH or, as Gothamites call it, Gamnhy.”

“That is so stupid. I love it,” Danny said with a grin. He started forward, giving Jason’s hand a tug. “Did you know they just redid their dinosaur exhibit a few years ago? I read about it when they got the new Mososaurs to display. Which, did you know, that New Jersey was under water for most of the Precambrian eras? It’s why it’s so easy to find fossilized shark teeth here! There’s even one park really known for it. Big… Creek? Stream? Brook! Big Brook Park. But despite this—”

Danny snapped his mouth closed, ducking his head. “Sorry. Guess I just sorta went off there.”

“Hey, no,” Jason said, bumping their shoulders together. “Give me the low down. I need to know what we’re about to see.”

“…are you sure?” Danny really didn’t want to bore Jason on their date. He knew he could talk too much about things people didn’t care about. What if Jason didn’t want another date after this?

“Really sure. Come on, tell me about your prehistoric ancestors, fish.”

“Oh shut up,” Danny said, but he was smiling again. “What I was saying, is despite being mostly underwater, the state fossil is the land based Hadrosaurus which has only one skeleton and it’s not even complete so who knows if it as even a real species. And the skeleton New Jersey is most famous for was the Dryptosaurus, which was the first full dinosaur skeleton found in the U.S. in the mid 1800’s.”

They went to the Hall of Paleontology first, of course, Danny talking all through it. From there they jumped to the Hall of Minerals and Gems, to the Hall of the Americas, through the Cabinet of Curiosity, and to the Hall of Bones. Once the tour groups of schools had cleared out for the day, they wandered through the now thankfully empty butterfly exhibit. Danny snapped a picture of Jason smiling and covered in butterflies. (It may have been set as his lock screen right away.)

“Last stop before the gift shop,” Jason said, twining their fingers together again as they exited the double doors of the atrium.

“Gift shop?” Danny asked with a bounc. “Yes! Museum gift shops are the best.”

Jason chuckled. “Thought you might like that, nerd. You better think of what you might want to grab from it, my treat.”

“You can’t just think of what you want from a museum gift shop,” Danny explained. “You have to wander around and take in the marvelous and absurd. The best things are always what you never expected.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

“Guess I’ll have to trust you on that one,” Jason said, edging them around an old couple moving ever so slowly and down a corridor. “Curious to see what you find, but first…”

Danny followed Jason’s motioning hand and gasped. His words were almost a reverent whisper. “The planetarium.”

“The planetarium,” Jason said. “Do you know how hard it was to plan out our paths so that we didn’t pass by it before?”

“Yeah?” Danny asked, grinning. He couldn’t believe that Jason had gone through that effort to make sure that the planetarium stayed a surprise. He leaned over, bumping their arms together lightly as they settled into the short line for the next showing.

The wait passed quickly as Danny talked about the recent count of Saturn’s moons passing over a hundred and how they ranged from the size of mercury to a sports arena. He glanced at Jason, from time to time, still nervous about boring the other, but the soft smile never left Jason’s lips.

They settled in away from the other few people in the showing, leaning back in the reclined seats circled around the central area. It had been years since since Danny had been to a planetarium. He’d forgotten, a little, the wonder of feeling surrounded by space. Danny tracked the comet as it moved across the projected dome of the planetarium, following it as it arced to the left behind them. The light of it caught in Jason’s eyes as it passed overhead and for a moment they seemed all the more blue. The corner of Jason’s lips were quirked up. Danny loved it when Jason smiled like that.

Without thinking, Danny fond himself brushing his fingers over the edges of that smile.

He could feel Jason’s breath catch against his thumb.

“Thank you,” Danny whispered.

The whole day had been amazing. If Danny had been told to plan a date for himself, he couldn’t have done a better job and here Jason had come up with all of it. The brunch, the museum, the planetarium— the promise of the gift shop and dinner after. It was all just… perfect, and Jason had known that.

Scraping together his fluttering nerves. Danny leaned up to kiss Jason on the cheek. “Thank you. Today has been perfect. I’m so glad you asked me.”

“I’m glad you said yes.”

Danny laughed softly, tucking hi head against Jason’s shoulder as he looked back up at the stars. “Ancients, we sound like we’re out of one of those rom-coms you love.”

“Excuse you, Jane Austen did not write rom-coms,” Jason said. “Besides, we’re not nearly hetronormative or creepily possessive enough to be in a rom-com.”

Danny felt like his grin would split his face as he turned his gaze back up to the dome. “Shut up and watch the stars, Casanova.”

-

"That's what you want?" Jason asked. "Really? Why?"

They had been wandering around the gift shop for about a quarter of an hour, playing with the various displays, marveling at the slabs of nature and history for sale, and laughing over the cheap, silly trinkets. Danny didn’t want to pick anything expensive (even if Jason was a Wayne), but also he wanted something that would remind him of the trip. Finally, he’d found the perfect thing.

Danny wiggled the trilobite plush in Jason’s direction. “Because it’s cute.”

And Jason had listened to him talk for ages about dinosaurs.

Jason raised a dubious brow, clearly unconvinced. “It’s an ancient dead bug.”

“It’s cute,” Danny sang. “It’s just a little fellow. Just a little friend. Just a little Isotelus maximus! They’re cute and they want a kiss.”

He wiggled the plush again, giving the best puppy dog eyes he could over the top of the plush where it was held in front of his face.

Jason heaved a sigh before he leaned down and dropped a light kiss onto the fuzzy fabric. The way Jason looked at him over the top of of the plush made Danny swallow heavily.

“Now,” Jason asked, “can I kiss the person that I really want to?”

Danny could feel the heat of a blush rush up his cheeks. He couldn’t find the words, but managed a little nod as he lowered the plush trilobite. His eyes slid closed as Jason leaned in.

It was just a simple, soft press of the lips.

That’s all.

But it made Danny sigh happily and lean into the kiss.

Without a doubt, the best date ever.

---- AN: And we finally have a kiss! And a date! Look at the boys go~

I couldn’t help but make Danny a dinosaur nerd. He seems like the type to have had that phase, and now as dead things they speak to him in a whole other way! I ripped a lot of the museum set up from the Houston Museum of Natural Science, which has an amazing prehistoric exhibit and the trilobite is 100% based on a plushy I have. I admit I have a disproportionate love for trilobites myself.

Ngl, I struggled with the chapter some (mostly due to self imposed expectations) because it is a big moment. I was actually going to post this yesterday, but the start was just a mess so it needed a rewrite- which I usually save for the ao3 version. But I think it got there, so I hope that you all liked it!

EDIT: DO TO BEING SHADOW BANNED, I WILL NO LONGER BE TAGGING. To be notified of updates, instead visit this post and subscribe to the conversation.

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#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

[atticssmellgood]

hey babe!! can you do the 16 and 17 with alex, pls? 🥺

Tired

Alex Turner x GN!reader(no specific pronouns used)

Prompt(s) requested: “How Are you so comfy?” + Person A falls asleep on person B

Word count: 1k

CW: None❤️

A/N: I’m honestly so happy you requested these specific prompts lmao, I’ve always loved the idea of cuddling with Alex, I feel like he would be so sweet😭 anyways, hope you enjoy!

P. S. I feel like all of my fics end in sleeping I need a new way to close out💀

Alex groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he sat slumped over his small notebook, scribbled out lyrics and messy handwriting decorating the pages.

Why was it that whenever he actually wanted to get some songwriting done, he couldn’t? Lately the inspiration seemed to slip out of his hands every time he picked up the pen, leaving him stuck and stressed. Most times, he would just end up in a significantly lower mood with nothing more than what he started with.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, too many thoughts swirling around in his head to possibly make sense of any of them.

Eventually he stood up and stretched, his limbs feeling heavy with exhaustion and a yawn coming from his mouth.

Alex hadn’t been able to get much sleep recently due to the amount of time he’d been spending on the new album, but he could never seem to rest when he was so focused on why his brain wasn’t working the way he wanted it to.

Before Alex could let out another loud groan of frustration, he heard the front door open and he couldn’t have been more relieved.

“Alex?” You called out tentatively, not sure if he was home from the studio just yet. You made your way to the kitchen and sat your car keys on the counter with a jingle before hearing footsteps coming towards you. All of the sudden you were pulled into a warm hug, a kiss falling onto your forehead softly.

“Welcome home darling…” Alex whispered as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. You could already tell from his quiet voice and the way he leaned his body on yours that he had a long day. Your suspicions were confirmed when you pulled away from his embrace to get a good look at him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his expression looked overall drained. It didn’t take a genius to realize he needed some food and rest.

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek gently, stroking the apex of his cheekbone with your thumb in a loving manner. Alex’s hands still sat on your hips as he leaned into your palm and closed his eyes. A small sigh left his lips when he felt the tension in his muscles slowly dissipate, replaced with a warm feeling that seeped into his bones and gripped at his heart.

“You look miserable, Al.” you giggled quietly, continuing to stroke his cheek. Although disguised as a light-hearted joke, Alex could hear the worried undertone in your voice.

“It’s just some writer’s block, nothing to worry about.” He mumbled and pulled you a little closer.

You let out a little hum and let him rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You know I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure writers block doesn’t cause you to look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Your voice was a little more concerned now as you rub his back lightly “what’s wrong?”

Alex let out a small groan and snaked his arms fully around your waist, squeezing you tight and beginning to sway the both of you from side to side slowly. His body heat engulfs you in a comforting embrace and you could still smell a bit of the cologne he liked to put on before he left in the mornings. “it’s…” he starts, speaking tentatively “I’ve just been really stressed lately with the non-stop recording in the studio and it doesn’t help when I can’t seem to write properly anymore.” His voice is quiet and clearly exhausted. You once again pull back, this time giving him a soft kiss on the lips, then one on his nose. He closed his eyes and gave a sleepy little smile.

“Why don’t we go to sleep, yeah?” You brush a piece of hair out of his eyes “I think you really need it. And who knows? Maybe it’ll clear your writer’s block.” You smiled sweetly before Alex just nods in agreement.

His mind did feel a bit foggy from the lack of sleep. Maybe that was the problem?

Without another word, you stepped out of his embrace to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

Alex immediately laid on the bed, his eyes already beginning to close until he noticed you didn’t lay next to him. He glances over to see you taking off your shirt so you could change into something more comfortable than your work clothes.

He chuckled before reaching over to grabbing your arm and pull you onto the mattress with a sly grin.

You let out a little yelp and before you knew it, Alex’s full body weight was resting on top of you, effectively trapping you underneath him.

“Alex! You couldn’t wait five more seconds?” You laugh, still topless as he hadn’t given you the chance to put a shirt on.

“Nope.” He said with a satisfied expression “You were already taking too long.”

His head was resting on your chest comfortably, his soft brown hair tickling your bare skin.

You just laughed at his response, then snuck a gentle hand into his hair.

His features seemed to relax once you did this as his eyes fluttered shut and a small smile played at his lips.

You ran your fingers through the thick strands, nails occasionally scratching his scalp. The more you did this, the more he relaxed. The stress he held in his tense muscles looked as if it was melting away slowly with each brush of your hand on his hair.

“How are you so comfy?” Alex mumbled, nuzzling into your chest with a contented sigh. You just smiled as you gazed at him, leaning forward a bit to place a soft kiss on the top of his head.

He loved the spot he was in because he could press his ear right against where your heart was and listen to it beat with a steady rhythm. All the thoughts and worries in his mind were quieting down to mere whispers as he focused on the soft thumping in your chest. This was what he knew he needed.

Moments after that, you heard his breathing slow, indicating that he was indeed asleep.

You continued to stroke his hair in a loving manner even as he slept. The weight of his body on yours was comforting and it wasn’t long until you began to fall asleep underneath him, uttering a barely audible “Sweet dreams, my love” and letting your eyes flutter shut.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #arctic monkeys #gn!reader #fluff #cuddling #fluff x reader #arctic monkeys x reader #writing prompt #rpf #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 𝟑/𝟒 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘  

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Ethan keeps trying to keep you under his watch in fear of you outing him as your killer to the group, but you’re determined to make his life a living hell.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): A bit graphic, mentions of blood and dying, angst, flashback

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,250

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Ghost!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! I based this off the song by Lizzy McAlpine - Doomsday

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Your plan wasn’t working. Your plan wasn’t working and Ethan dared to give you a new identity. You were furious and in need of wanting to punch him, but most of all you remained unseen. Unnoticed by your friends, Chad of them all.  

“Wyen? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove past him causing him to stumble back and chase after you.

“I panicked.” Ethan tries catching your hands under the sheet but you are too quick on your feet. You push and shove past intoxicated bodies, wanting and doing everything to put some distance between you and Ethan. It’s when you turn and ascend the stairs that you hear thumping footsteps grow closer. “I don’t know what you want from me, Y/n,” Ethan calls behind you. Oh, now he wanted to use your name. “You’ve been bitching all week about wanting to leave the dorm, but when I do take you out, you just complain and–” Ethan's words are cut off when you shove him into a vacant room. He grunts when you shove him in and close the door behind you. Completely overlooking the fact you had touched and closed a physical door. Though Ethan seemed to catch on instantly. He gaped, looking at you and at the door. “Did you just-”

“Get this fucking thing off me!” You shoved him with your covered hands again. “Get this sheet off me, now! Get it off!” You shoved him, then frantically pulled at the fabric. “Ethan get it off– just get it off!” Your breathing picks up as you start to panic underneath. “Ethan get it off please–” Ethan immediately reached forward and pushed it past your face. Your teary eyes coming into his view now. “I hate you, I hate you so much!”

“Yeah, we’ve established that.” He shook his head at you.

“Fuck you! How can you just stand there and watch me break down every day?” You began shoving him back. “Huh? I’d have expected some sort of guilt from you but all you’ve done is show me just how fucked up and horny you really are. I have no excuse for it either, I’m lonely, but you’re sick. You fucking killed me!” You scream in his face. “I’ve already endured the worst pain of my life, but for some reason the universe has me enduring this! You!” You shake your head not seeing any signs of remorse from him. What would you know? He had no trouble killing you. So he’d have no trouble showing no empathy. “Why are you still hurting me?” Ethan looks away at the slightest crack in your voice. “Have I not been through enough?” Your shoulders slumped as a tear slipped down your cheek. That had been enough for Ethan to act on how he felt rather than using his words. He had cupped your face gently and caught the tear on your lips with his own. Sealing your pain with yet another kiss. He had a habit of kissing you when things got too vulnerable. He pulled back resting his head against yours. “Stop hurting me. Just let me rest already. What good am I to you now, being here like this?” You furrow your brows. “Why can’t you let me go, why can’t you see me for what I really look like? You and I both know this isn’t really me?” You placed your hands over his wrist. 

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“You do. You know what I look like. Yet you prefer to glamorize me, paint me as the pretty picture that I’m not. I’m not a vision anymore, you made sure of that Ethan.”

“I don’t want to picture you that way.” Ethan kept his eyes closed tight. The night of your death is still vividly clear and horrid in his mind. There was so much blood that night. So much guilt that ate at him. Showering did nothing to make the memory of you wash away. 

“Why not? Is it the guilt? Does the state you left me keep you up at night?” Your voice dropped into a darker tone. Sinister-like.

“N-No…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “This is the you that I want. This is the way I want to see you, remember you. What’s so goddamn wrong with that?” He gripped your face tighter. He went in for another kiss but you held his wrist firmer.

“This isn’t who I am anymore Eth. I’m not this pretty version you think that I am. Can you open your eyes for me?” You tilted your head at him. “Please…I wanna see those pretty brown eyes I loved so much. Open your eyes!”

Ethan only shook his head.

“Ethan…Look at me!” You growled, causing him to jump back. He let out a surprised gasp as your now milky white and glazed-over eyes stared back at him. His eyes grew as your stab wound became visible. Your lips were stained red with blood and your whole shirt was coated in it. Your smile turned wicked as you tilted your head. “See that wasn’t so hard now…” 

“No!” He growled as he rushed forward and pushed you back into the closet doors there. You half expected him to strangle you but when his lips met yours in a rough swift motion, you were not prepared for it. When he pulled back after a second to catch his breath. His eyes roamed over your face and stomach. Any traces of blood and the wound he gave you were long gone by now. He sighed in relief as your beautiful irises stared back at him with curiosity. “Don’t ever do that shit again.” He warned darkly. His eyes narrowed with hate. 

“I didn’t do anything...” You smirked up at his towering frame. “That was only a preview of what lies in there.” You reach up and tap the side of his temple. “There is some guilt inside of you, that’s why you wake up during the night in a startled state. You’re only hurting yourself further by picturing me this way. It proves that you don't want to admit it to yourself yet. You don’t think I'm aware of the way you kiss me to avoid confronting the real truth when I’m close to getting you to repent for your actions. I'm dead Ethan, not alive, dead. And you can’t bring yourself to believe that I am. A coward's move really.” You scoff as you look him up and down. 

“I’m not a coward.” His jaw clenched. 

“No? Then go get Chad, maybe Tara, or Anika, and then Mindy. Hell, let’s make it a party. Call Sam, and tell her that you killed me. Tell her what you did to me. Tell her how I begged and pleaded for you not to, and in return, you stabbed me. Drove your knife into my stomach, pulled it out, and watched me bleed out. That you saw the light leave my eyes, and that you heard me take my last breath. You’re not a coward you say? Go and tell our friends the psychopath you really are. How the girl who you confessed to having the biggest crush on is now dead because of you. Chad trusted you, brought you into our lives, he stood by you, trying to be your wingman and what did you fucking do? You killed me because your dad had a slight problem with me. You won’t do it though, you know why? Because you’re a coward Ethan. You’re nothing but a scared fool who can’t take responsibility for his own actions. You didn’t need to kill me, but you did. I’m never gonna let you live this down as long as I’m still here, and god quit kissing me. I’m dead for fucks sake, you’d think you’d show a bit more restraint.” You scoff and shove past him, forgetting the sheet as you open the door and head downstairs. The loud slam caused him to flinch. 

-

You pushed and pushed yourself to crawl faster but you had been in so much pain. Your flight response grew as you heard him sigh behind you. 

“Y/n…” He closed his eyes. Having just exited your room to watch you a few feet into the hallway that was facing the front door.

“Noo…” You pleaded. Your cries increased as you pushed against the floor. Your hands kept slipping. The blood that coated them gave you no friction. 

The door is right there…it’s right there. You kept repeating.

“You’re not gonna get to the door. You’re not, I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“I will, I will.” You cried. A groan slipped past your lips with every strain against your wound. You could hear just how fast your heart was beating against your eardrums. Your breathing comes out strained and in heaves.

“Not with where I stabbed you. That wound is fatal.” He stalked closer to form on the floor. “Y/n, this isn’t going to turn out the way you hope it will.”

“No!” You choke back a sob.

Ethan looked away as your cries became more rasped and cracking. Your vision was blurred from the tears falling down your face. The door was becoming difficult to see now. The light inside slowly dimmed the more you struggled to crawl forward. “I-I can. I just need to push myself a bit more.” You groaned, then screeched when you felt him turn you onto your back. “Please. Please don’t do this!” You pushed against his chest. You were no match for the strength he possessed. He overpowered your injured state.

“It’s just gonna hurt for a second then it’ll all be over.” He held your wrist together with one hand, his thighs squeezing your legs together so you wouldn’t squirm and push against him any longer.

“Please, please. P-Please.” You cough as blood starts to fill your lungs. Your teeth were stained red. “Please, I don’t wanna die. I-I don’t wanna die.” You shake your head, weakly pushing against his chest. “I haven’t done anything yet…I wanna live. I wanna live, please.” You tilt your head back as tears spill down your face. “I want my mom…I want my mom!” You slump against his tight grip. “Please…please.” You stare at him, numb and broken. You didn’t have much of a fight left in you. “Please, please, please.” Your voice becomes soft as a whisper in the wind. 

“I won’t let you suffer anymore.” He leans down to press a kiss against your temple, then you feel the harsh insert of his knife entering your wound once more. Your gasp falls heavily against his ears. You begin to choke on your blood in an attempt to get another word out. He pulls the knife out and watches as your chest starts to rise and fall slower 

“W-Why?” You mustered before your breathing grew shallow, and your eyes dilated. Ethan's eyes scattered all over your frame, watching you take your last breath, watching the light leave you. The thing that ached the most was your hands going slack in his grip, slipping down his palm as your head lulled to the side. You were gone. He probably sat there for half an hour before the ringing from his phone brought him out of the daze he was in. He snapped out of it, averting his eyes from your body, down to his gloves, and the knife covered in your blood. 

“Shit!” He cursed, catching on to the massive pool beginning to form around you. He got up quickly, removing his gloves and shoes before walking over to where yours and his books remained from your session a while ago. He cursed once more struggling to find his phone. Once he grabbed a hold of it, the contact displayed made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He looked back to where you lay, running a hand through his hand to compose himself before answering. “Dad?”

“Where the hell have you been? Quinn and I have been trying to get a hold of you.” 

“What why? I’m at Y/n’s remember? The plan you went over with me before meeting up at her house.”

“Oh, you’re still there.”

“Yeah, we were studying before I went into the bathroom to get ready. What do I do now? I know you dealt with a mom when I ki-”

“You’re still in the bathroom? Oh, thank god. Go ahead and take the Ghostface rob off. There’s been a change of plans, I changed my mind.” Ethan felt his heart sink to his feet at his father’s words. “I don’t want you to kill her anymore, alright? Your little girlfriend can live another day!” Ethan’s face fell hearing him laugh. “I thought about it some more and if we kill her now it’ll just end up drawing more attention than what we need, so I’m calling it off. Go back to studying or whatever it was you two were doing. Don’t kill her, we’ll save it for later when we go after the rest of her friends alright…” Ethan slowly turned. His gaze fell on your face that was turned towards where he stood. His heart started picking up. “Ethan? Ethan, you there? You don’t have to kill her anymore. You hear me, boy. The plan is off okay. Look I gotta go. Those two wannabe fucks Jason and what’s the other one's name…Greg? Yeah, Greg. I’m planning their deaths for sometime next month. I’ve been following them and it looks like they’re gonna be a problem. Those two do need to go, but uh…yeah that girlfriend of yours, she’s safe for now. Don’t do anything stupid okay? I gotta go.”

“D-Dad…” Ethan’s voice cracked.

“Yeah?”

“She’s dead! I did what you told me to. W-Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Ethan gasped, running a hand through his air. “W-What do I do now?”

“Goddamit boy…H-How long has she been dead?”

“What?” He didn’t know why the time mattered. 

“How much time has passed boy?”

Ethan pulled back the sleeve of the robe and checked the time on his wristwatch. It hadn’t been that long, had it?

“T-Three minutes. It’s been three minutes.” He breathed out.

“Yeah, you need to give her CPR right now!” 

“Are you fucking serious?” He started panicking looking back at your very dead body. 

“Put your goddamn phone down and start fucking giving her chest compression!”

Ethan raced back over to you at lightning speed, he dropped his phone down next to you, hitting the speaker option. He kneeled next to you and placed the heel of his left hand on your breastbone at the center of your chest. He places the palm of his other hand on top of his hand already on your chest and interlocks his fingers. He winces when he positions his shoulders over his hands and starts pressing straight down into your chest and starts counting. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…” He breathes out as he presses fast down on your chest. He counted up to twenty in his head before he alternated between chest compression and rescue breaths. He tilted your head back, pinched your nose, and blew into your mouth. He gave two breaths. Then he repeated the cycle. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…” Two breathes again. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…” Another two breathes. “One, two, three, four, five, six…Come back to me, please come back to me.” He pinches your nose again and gives you another two breaths. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Come back to me.” He chokes back a sob as he keeps trying. “Come back to me…One, two, three, four-“ He cries out as he hears a gasp spill past your lips. Your chest rises as you inhale a deep breath and then release it. “Oh!” He sobs, reaching forward to kiss your cheek. He presses his head against yours. 

You whimper as you try to get your vision to settle. Your senses slowly come back to you. “Eth…”

“Oh, thank god! Dad, it worked! It fucking worked!” He cried out. He moved behind you letting you rest your head on his thighs. “You’re okay, you’re okay! Dad, we need to get her to the hospital okay-“ Ethan looked down at his phone, his heart sinking as he stared at the black screen. His brows pinched together in confusion. He was just on the phone with him.  

“Ethan?” He turned his head, at the sound of his own name being called. “Ethan, are you still there? How much time has passed?” 

“What?” He shook his head. He was still standing where he had been. He looked back to see that you remained motionless. Dead. You were still dead. “The time?” 

“How much fucking time has passed boy?” 

He looked down at his wrist again, he was so confused. He had just saved you. You took a breath of air. You were okay. “Ethan for fucks sake.” 

He gripped his watch and realized just how much time had passed. It had been exactly half an hour now…not the three minutes he hoped had only passed. 

“H-Half an hour…” He muttered. He had just saved you. He had saved you. You were okay just a second okay? “It’s been half an hour.”

“Oh, Ethan.” His das sighed heavily through the phone. If he could, he could see his dad run a hand down his face. 

“S-She’s gone. She’s gone.” He turned to look at you again. “I killed her dad. I-I killed her!” He choked back on a sob. 

“I’m on my way. Just hang in there.”

-

You didn’t expect Ethan to put the sheet around you again as you ran out the front of the door. The party grows distant as you track it back to Ethan’s dorm. You complained when you felt the fabric fall past your face once more. “H-Hey! What the hell?” 

“Had to.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Can’t have people thinking I’m talking to myself.” 

“Why not? It’ll add to your crazy persona.” You grumbled under the sheet before being taken off guard by Ethan’s sudden closeness. You couldn’t help the frown he couldn’t see.

“I’ll have you know, not everyone takes lightly to someone talking to themselves… You’re a terrible ghost, by the way.” He kisses your head covered by the sheet.

The kiss sent a wave of redness up your neck and face as you let out a very lady-like sound. “W-Well! That’s just me being a terrible actor. I’m a great ghost! Boo!” You say defiantly. Before adding on, you whisper. “I got some haunting up my sleeves too if you wanna see…” Ethan could already feel the smirk hidden underneath. He rolled his eyes, though he felt a shiver up his spine knowing what your real form looks like. 

“No thanks. I think I prefer you this way ya know, outta sight…me out of a psych ward.” He shrugged. 

“What? You don’t wanna see the face of the woman who’s been tormenting you these past couple of months? How rude.” You say with mock offense before continuing. “Besides, I’m a ghost, not the boogeyman, I can’t hurt you as much as you’ve hurt me already...” You breathe out a laugh.

“Yeah…just a ghost.” He hums, keeping his arm around your shoulder as you both walk back to his dorm.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry series #writings by juls #my gif

[spaceagebachelormann]

Okay so Xavier meeting the reader who is Wednesday’s friend and he thinks she’s intimidating but she’s actually the opposite of Wednesday and really sweet and nice and he just falls for her on the spot?

Idk what else to put with this idea

intimidating

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem reader

warnings: splinters, xavier shit talking reader, reader is kinda weird, swearing

summary: xavier falls in love with an unexpected person

intimidating pt 2

masterlist

“Who are we waiting for?” Xavier groaned from his spot on the grass.

Wednesday glared up at him, indicating that if he asked one more time, she would snap him in half, and he didn’t doubt if she could or not for a moment.

“I’ve only told you 6 times.” She grumbled, still staring him down, “Y/N. My friend, who you seem to have a discomfort for.”

Xavier glared back, “Of course I have a discomfort for her! She’s creepy and always stares at me in class. Scratch creepy, she is terrifying.”

He had never really like you. Everytime he glanced at you, you were already staring. You were also freakishly smart, and overly smart people are always secretly insane. It didn’t help that you had a resting bitch face, so that also made you intimating.

Enid nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she does always stare at him. It’s weird.”

“That just means she admires you. It’s a compliment, really.” Wednesday said, turning her attention from Xavier to the book in front of her.

Enid frowned.

“Wait, you invited Y/N even though Xavier doesn’t feel comfortable with her?” Her frown turned into a scowl, and she added “That’s not a very good move, Wednesday. I don’t think you should have done that.”

“I don’t think I care.”

Xavier nodded at Enid, “Thanks for trying.”

Enid smiled.

“However,” the raven haired girl began, “I do agree. Y/N is never late, not to anything. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited her this time.”

Xavier began to nod, but a voice distracted him.

“I’m here!” The voice called, falling out of a tall tree.

You sat up, and hissed in pain, because there was multiple splinters all over your body.

“I’m sorry, I was busy.” You apologized, slumping in between Enid and Xavier.

Enid couldn’t sit still with your condition, she began to tend to your wounds as Xavier not so subtly scooted away from you.

“It’s fine. Do you know why I asked you to come here?” Wednesday asked, putting her full attention on you.

You shook your head, mindlessly smiling.

“I need your help to catch a hyde. Your parents used to work with them, correct?”

You grinned at your friend.

“Yes! Thank you for remembering, everyone always forgets and just acts like they’re as insane as I am.”

You were unaware of the fact you were just proving Xaviers theory of smart people being crazy criminal masterminds.

“That’s so cool! Do you know anything about catching them?” Enid cut in, giving you a big grin.

“Well, I can remember some things. For example, they..” You trailed off as your eyes landed on Xavier.

Wednesday cleared her throat. “Is something wrong?”

You smiled at the boy across from you. “Xavier Thorpe, right? I’ve been meaning to tell you for weeks now, I absolutely adore your shoes! Where did you get them from?”

Okay, Xavier thought, maybe she’s really not as bad as I assumed she was. But, he knew he couldn’t be sure just yet.

He blushed. “Uh, thanks. I have an extra pair if you want them. I ordered them, like, four sizes too small.”

You turned your attention back to Wednesday, after smiling at Xavier once more and thanking him. “You were saying?”

Enid awkwardly laughed, “Actually, you were talking.”

“Oh, yes! I was! For example, they absolutely love the smell of meat, obviously. If you were going to capture one, it’s better to do it in a wide and open space, so you have room to run away if needed. However, running away would only work if the trees were thick. So, it would be hard to find a good spot.” You smiled at the group thoughtfully, taking in Enid and Xaviers shocked expressions, and Wednesdays neutral one.

“Y/N,” Wednesday said, “I need a favour.”

~

And now, you were standing alone, waiting for the three of them. Wednesday had told you to meet her by the statue of Edgar Allan Poe. As usual, you hadn’t been given very many details of why. All you knew was that she needed your help.

From the very few details you were given, you knew that they needed your help to find out where the hyde was hiding. Their current idea was an old abandoned house.

It was exactly 10:30 PM, the time you had agreed on meeting.

A few minutes continued to pass, and they still weren’t there.

You had begun to get worried.

Until, you spun around and saw Enid, Wednesday, and Xavier walking towards you.

“Sorry, Enid decided to paint her nails again. In her mind, it seemed like a great idea.” Wednesday apologized.

“Well, they looked atrocious! I had to do something!” Enid defended, crossing her arms defensively.

You gave a joyful laugh, the noise causing Xaviers cheeks to slightly flush.

“It’s alright! I’m just glad you’re here now.” You said to them all, eye lingering on Xavier for a moment, just long enough to see his pink cheeks.

Since your last meeting, Xavier had fallen for you. At first, he had thought you were like Wednesday, cool, calm, and intimidating. But, you had proved him wrong. You were sweet, and nice. He liked that.

And now, he got to explore an old house with you.

10/10 first time hanging out.

Good for him.

#mars writing 🧈 #xavier thorpe #wednesday show #xavier thorpe x reader #cherry ☀️

[lonesome-witching]

It's Just a Kiss

Sorry for the long wait but here is another prompt for you. This one was sent in anonymously, so thank you. I hope this sort of fit with what you had in mind when you said Nancy giving Robin her first kiss. At least I tried my best.

You can read previous prompt right here on ao3. Or you can send in a prompt of your own.

“What was your first kiss like?” 

The question had tumbled out before Nancy could think better of it. She had just gotten caught up in the conversation, the one where Robin kept making fun of Nancy for dating Steve, and she needed to retaliate. 

But it had been a stupid question. The second the words escaped her lips Nancy knew it was a stupid question. Because if Robin had had her first kiss then it wouldn’t have been a good one. It would have been with Tommy B or Mark Lewinsky during a game of spin the bottle. Or it would have been with Milton Bledsoe out of peer pressure from her friends from band. Or it would have been with Dash Montague when he came on to her, Nancy’s blood had boiled when Robin told her about that. But either way, Robin wouldn’t have liked it. Because Robin didn’t like boys. 

She had told Nancy a few weeks ago. It hadn’t really changed anything between them. They still hung out every Friday night after Robin’s shift, they still sat next to each other at the movie nights the kids forced them into, Nancy still went over to Family Video to hang out with her and Steve. Except it had changed everything. 

Because suddenly, Nancy looked at things differently. She started noticing the graffiti around the town, the vile words that painted Hawkins a special shade of homophobic. She started noticing the whispered remarks between girls and the shouted jokes between boys. And she hated all of it. She hated it even more when she noticed Robin noticing the comments, the way she would fold into herself as if she was trying to hide. 

Which is exactly why she hated herself for asking that stupid question. 

“I– uhm. I haven’t really had my first kiss yet.” Robin looked at her own lap, twisting her fingers around each other. 

It might have been the best answer Nancy could have gotten. But it still rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, it’s alright. It’s a normal question. I mean, it’s not that I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone. It’s just that no one really wanted to kiss me.” 

“No one?” Nancy probably shouldn’t have sounded as surprised as she did. 

“I mean, the people who did want to kiss me weren’t exactly my type.” 

“Does it bother you? That you haven’t had a first kiss yet?” It bothered Nancy. Maybe she should have just changed the subject. 

“A little. It’s not that big of a deal, I guess I hoped to get some experience in college but now that I’m not going–”

“Yet,” Nancy interrupted quickly. 

“Now that I’m not going yet, it does bother me a bit more. But it’s okay. It’s not like there is anything I can do about it.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” It slipped out, just like the earlier question had. Somehow Nancy had lost control of her own mouth. 

Robin’s eyes widened in shock. “No– I mean, you are pretty– It’s– I– I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You’re my friend, I don’t want to ruin that.” 

“It would just be a kiss. It doesn’t have to ruin anything and at least then you won’t have to wait until you leave for college, whenever that will be.” 

“I– Uhm– I don’t know– What do you want me to say?” Robin finally looked up, as if she was hoping to see the perfect answer painted on Nancy’s face. Maybe it was, Nancy wasn’t sure. 

“Just the truth, do you want to have your first kiss?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Would you be okay with me being your first kiss?” 

“I don’t want to make–” 

Nancy pushed her finger against Robin’s lips. “That’s not what I asked.” 

“Yes.” Robin’s lips pressed against Nancy’s finger as she spoke. 

“Can I kiss you, Robin?” 

Robin made a soft noise as her eyes dropped to Nancy’s lips. “I might be a shit kisser. I have never done it before.” 

“That’s the whole point, that you’ve never done it before. And really, kissing isn’t all that hard, just follow my lead.” Nancy leaned in slowly, giving Robin the time to refuse, to ask for her to stop, to push her away. But Robin didn’t. She just sat frozen on Nancy’s bed, her eyes still glued to Nancy’s lips. “Close your eyes,” Nance whispered softly. 

She obeyed her own words as she pressed her lips against Robin’s. It felt… nice. Robin’s lips were soft and vaguely tasted of chocolate and sugar. Nancy started moving her lips. Slowly at first, allowing Robin to get used to it. But Robin’s lips mimicked the movements perfectly and Nancy couldn’t help but feel a soft tingling feeling in her lips. Her right hand grabbed at Robin’s shoulder, needing to hold onto something. 

It probably wasn’t supposed to feel like this, like she was drowning. Her mind was filled with a new type of fog and her body buzzed with some foreign feeling. 

She needed to pull away. 

But then Robin accidentally bit into Nancy’s bottom lip and Nancy softly whined. The hand on Robin’s shoulder slipped up into Robin’s hair, pulling her closer. She needed more. She needed to lick into Robin’s mouth, needed to push her hands under Robin’s shirt, needed to hear Robin moan her name. 

Nancy pulled away quickly, nearly tumbling off the bed. It was supposed to just be a kiss. It wasn’t supposed to leave her breathless and wanting. 

Robin’s eyes were still closed, a soft smile on her lips. She dropped down on Nancy’s pillow without opening her eyes. 

“So… What was your first kiss like?” Nancy asked, her eyes stuck on Robin’s kiss swollen lips. She really wanted to lean back in. 

Robin opened her eyes. “It was great. You are a wonderful kisser, Nance. I hope I wasn’t too bad.” 

“No, you were– You’re a natural, Robin.” Nancy dropped down next to Robin, watching as Robin’s eyes sparkled, hoping that she’d get to do it again.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet #first kiss

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 7: Mechanical Intervention (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Engie keeps going to bed late in the night and decided to make sure you don’t feel neglected.

Tags: Overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Gunslinger, vibrators

Word Count: 2.7k

The Masterlist

The oversized shirt you wore to bed was far more important to you than most would think. Having once belonged to Dell, you had ‘borrowed’ it from his half of the dresser one night when you happened to forget to do your laundry. Now it was an item of comfort for you. It made you feel like he was here with you, even though the two of you had been apart for so long.

You rolled your eyes, realizing for a moment how melodramatic you were being. It wasn’t like Engie had gone off to war. In fact, he was literally under the same roof as you, just a few rooms away in his workshop. However he had been holed up in there for so many nights now, working tirelessly on his sentries and dispensers, writing calculation after calculation, all of which you had no hope of understanding. To put it frankly, you missed him.

With a sigh, you opened the door of your shared room, glancing down the hall towards the workshop. You could see the light shining from under the crack in the door, indicating that he was still hard at work. You began to walk towards that light, unsure of what your goal was exactly. It wasn’t likely, but maybe you could convince him to turn in early for once. At the very least, it would be nice to pay him a visit.

You opened the door to the workshop slowly, finding Engie sitting in a chair, hunched over some blueprints with a half disassembled sentry at his side. It was a position you had found him in many times before. It was a wonder how his back wasn’t in constant pain. You walked up behind him, not realizing how quiet you had been until you wrapped your arms around Engie’s shoulders, only for him to jump before realizing that it was just you.

“Good lord, darlin,’ don’t sneak up on me like that!” he said, holding a hand to his chest. Engie was always weary about being approached from behind, especially with how often he was the victim of spies on the battlefield. That fact had apparently slipped your mind.

“Sorry,” you sighed, nestling your face against his shoulder. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“What’s wrong?” Engie asked, noticing the twinge of sadness in your voice. “Aren’t you usually in bed by now?”

You held onto him tighter, biting your lip. Eventually, you decided not to hesitate and simply come out with it. “Come back to bed.” You could tell by the sigh you got in response that you weren’t going to get the answer you were hoping for.

“I’m sorry darlin.’ You know I have to get my work done first.”

You walked around to face Engie, giving the best damn puppy dog eyes you could muster. You weren’t too proud to beg. “Please, Dell?”

His eyes lit up at the use of his real name, softening as he reached out and pulled you close. “Oh honey, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” he asked. You nodded, letting yourself be pulled into Engie’s lap. “You sweet thing.”

He leaned in to kiss you. You eagerly reciprocated, desperate for the sensation of his lips against yours. It was more than the two of you had shared in at least a week, and you were practically starved for it. You tugged incessantly at his shirt, a silent plea for more. When you parted for breath you pressed your face into his shoulder again, muffling a needy whine.

“Now, I might not be able to come back to bed just yet, but I know the perfect way to make it up to you,” Engie said, pulling at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. You quickly stood and removed them yourself, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a loose fitting shirt. Before you could take off anything else you were pulled back into Engie’s lap. “You look cute like that, you know?” he said. “In nothing but my shirt and your panties, just lovely.”

You blushed, but gave him a confused look. “Well, the shirt can stay, but doesn’t the underwear kinda have to come off eventually?”

“Not necessarily,” Engie said with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. His gloved hand ran up your thigh, and you let out a soft sigh. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady and secure on his lap. Your body was already beginning to heat up as he reached your hip, caressing you gently and making you whimper. Usually such a small gesture wouldn’t get a reaction out of you, but it had been so long.

It felt like an eternity before he finally moved to run his fingers over your clothed slit. “Oh fuck,” you murmured as the fabric slowly began to dampen. You leaned your head on Engie’s shoulder, eyes rolling.

“That’s it, just relax and enjoy yourself,” Engie whispered into your ear, placing soft kisses on your jawline and trailing down to your neck. You moaned softly, unable to resist the urge to roll your hips as his fingers found your clit. How were you already so close? You must have been really pent up. “Are you close already, sweetheart?” Engie asked, seeing how you were squirming in his lap.

“I think so,” you stammered, gripping Engie’s shirt as you tried to hold back. “Fuck, it just feels so good.”

“You poor, sweet thing,” he crooned. “Laying all by your lonesome for so long. I’ll bet you haven’t even touched yourself in the past week.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of the time you just went to sleep, hoping you would get some attention the next day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the desire or the means to get yourself off, you just wanted to let your need build. You knew that the more it built the more rewarding it would be when Engie finally made time for you, and in a way, you were now getting exactly what you had been craving.

“How about you just go on and come for me?” he said, smirking as he circled your clit with his fingers. “I know you want to, and I wanna see it. I don’t want you to hold back.”

The idea that Engie was eager to see you come coupled with the pressure of his fingers was enough to push you over the edge. You called out his name in broken syllables, gripping onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Ah ah, keep those pretty eyes open,” he said. You hadn't even realized you had been squeezing your eyes shut until he pointed it out. “I want you to look at me, honey.” You groaned, opening your eyes with some struggle. The look of admiration on Engie’s face immediately made the effort worth it.

You were breathless, panting as he held you in his arms. Your face was flushed down to your neck and the fabric of your underwear was slick with your release. You looked like a proper wreck, yet you couldn’t be happier, especially since Engie hadn’t stopped showering you with kisses since you came down from your high.

“So pretty,” he sighed. “I want to see more. You can come again for me, right sweetheart?”

Oh, you liked the sound of that. You gave him a nod and a breathless, “I think so.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, pressing your lips to his in a surprisingly chaste kiss. “Just be gentle. I’m still sensitive.”

“Of course. Here, let’s get these out of the way.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. You spread your legs wider, watching as Engie removed his glove, revealing his prosthetic hand.

The Gunslinger had always fascinated you. In fact your inquiries about that marvel of craftsmanship was what had initially drawn you and Engie together. The metal glinted in the yellow glow of the workshop’s lights, highlighting every miniscule detail.

When those mechanical fingers ran over your thigh, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they weren’t cold at all. You had no idea how, but despite being made of metal, the Gunslinger always seemed to match an average human’s body temperature. Sometimes it could even be a bit warmer, which was quite comforting if you wanted some extra heat on an especially cold night. You whimpered as his fingers dipped between your thighs, slowly pressing into you.

Engie watched your face, checking for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that it was too much. When he saw none he continued, sliding his fingers into you to the last knuckle. That earned some louder sounds from you, especially when he began thrusting his digits in and out. You were lucky that no one but Engie came to this part of the base during this time of night. Anyone who overheard you would have immediately known exactly what was going on within the workshop.

“I love those noises of yours. I wonder how loud you can get?” he mused, watching your expression melt into one of ecstasy. Then those fingers curled inside you, striking that sensitive bundle of nerves that was guaranteed to have you moaning. And you most certainly did moan, bucking against his fingers with a harsh cry. However your sounds only reached their peak when Engie paired the curling of his fingers with the stroking of his thumb over your clit.

Your thighs shook as you came again, arching back as your fingers dug into Engie’s leg. You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for his free arm being wrapped firmly around you, keeping you seated safely on his lap. “God damn, that was intense,��� Engie chuckled. “I must be doing a good job!”

“Don’t tease me,” you gasped, still trying to catch your breath as your orgasm subsided.

“I would never, darlin.’ But I can’t deny that you're boosting my ego a bit, and I appreciate that.” He waited for you to come down fully, your breathing evening out and your trembling beginning to subside before he continued. “Now, there was one more thing I wanted to show you, if you’re up for it. You see that button at the base of the Gunslinger?” You nodded, following his gaze and immediately spotting the red button where metal met flesh. You were pretty sure it had always been there. It never even occurred to you to ask what its purpose was. “How about you go ahead and press it,” he suggested.

That was all the temptation you needed. Nervously, you reached out and pressed the button, only to let out a startled gasp when the metal appendage started vibrating. “Holy shit,” was all you managed to say in response, making Engie laugh.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected,” he said. “I’ve been working on this in my free time. It was originally gonna be a Valentine's Day gift, but I just couldn’t wait to show it off.”

You were both impressed and baffled. “Are you telling me this is what you’ve been doing in this workshop these past several nights?”

“Not entirely,” Engie said. “Like I said, it was just a pet project.”

You sighed, knowing that you were still recovering from your second orgasm. A third would be a difficult feat, but you couldn’t deny your own curiosity. Where else would you find a man who would literally program his own hand for your pleasure? Plus, you liked the idea of a challenge. “Well, how about we take this little innovation for a test drive?” you asked, giving Engie a seductive look.

He mirrored your expression. “I was hoping you would say that, sweetheart.”

Engie took everything much slower this time, only circling around your clit. Any direct stimulation would surely overwhelm you, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. Still, you immediately started trembling, not at all prepared for the intensity of the vibrations. That’s not to say it didn’t feel quite nice though. You bit your lip, stifling any moans that tried to escape.

“Don’t start holding back on me now, honey,” Engie said the moment he noticed you were trying to keep quiet. “I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He began kissing your neck, rubbing firmer circles until your muffled whimpers turned into full on moans once again.

His fingers slipped into you, offering a whole new range of intensity as they curled and thrust against your most sensitive spots. You rocked shamelessly against his palm, forcing his fingers deeper. It was exhausting yet so immensely pleasurable. You bucked and he worked his fingers, both of you ever so gradually working towards a third orgasm.

When you finally did come it happened rather suddenly, starting as a small building of pleasure that quickly escalated until your thighs were quivering and your back was arching. The sound you made when you climaxed was more akin to a sob than a moan.

“Good girl. There’s even more where that came from,” Engie said, not even pulling his fingers out. The implication was clear.

“Dell, I don’t know if I can,” you whimpered.

“Just one more time for me, darlin’,” Engie said between soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “I know you can do it.” His words and his touch were paradoxically comforting and overwhelming. Still, you were effectively tempted to try, signaling your willingness with a shaky nod. Even so, you couldn’t stifle your rather harsh reaction to the feeling of the vibrations becoming stronger.

“Dell! Oh fuck!” Your body sizzled, every sensation feeling like electricity on your skin. If your mind had been clearer you would have been astounded at the effort it must have taken to add not only a vibration function to the Gunslinger, but also multiple settings for said vibrations. However your mind was anything but clear. Engie may have been speaking to you, perhaps crooning words of praise, talking about how much he enjoyed your sensitive body, or how helplessly adorable you looked when you squirmed in his lap. Whatever it was, it all faded into the background as your other senses began to take over.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming, almost unbearable. It was a constant barrage of touches, moans, and trembling bodies. There was barely any buildup to the fourth and final orgasm, only an unwavering sensation and a sudden, shaking, screaming climax that seemed to hit you out of nowhere, leaving your body as an over sensitive wreck, squirming and reaching for anything to ground yourself.

That thing you were reaching for ended up being Engie himself. You clutched onto him for dear life even long after the aftershocks had faded, still shaking, face red and hot from a few tears that managed to escape. “I’ve got you, darlin,’” Engie whispered, keeping you steady even as your body trembled beneath his touch. The last thing he wanted was you falling off his lap. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, your body stopped shivering and your death grip on Engie’s shoulders finally loosened, leaving you to go limp in his arms. Your tears dried and your heart rate dropped, the rush of adrenaline fading until all you were left with was blissful relaxation.

“I’m guessing that you’re more than satisfied now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Engie asked, allowing himself a smug look once he was sure you had recovered enough. “Did I manage to make up for all the nights that I missed?”

You let out a weak laugh. “God, you definitely did. I just hope you don't expect me to go back to bed. There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk back to our room after that.”

Engie chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Of course not, honey. Just relax here.” His hand rubbed up and down your back, a soothing and welcome sensation to your still quite sensitive body. “Just close your eyes. If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to bed, alright?”

“And you’ll stay, right?” you asked, looking up at him hopefully. He gave you a soft smile, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course darlin.’ I’ll stay.”

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #cross posted on ao3 #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #kinktober #engineer x reader #engie x reader #engineer tf2 #tf2 engie #engie tf2 #tf2 engineer

[box-of-roses]

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. I Found You .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

Synopsis: You can hear the thoughts of your soulmate; What happens when Sakusa finds out you’re his soulmate and tries to plan the perfect way to tell you

Characters: Sakusa, Komori, Y/N

Warnings: Implied skirt or shorts wearer. Nothing else I can think of though, let me know if you find something <3

Words: 2k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

It had been a while since your first interaction but the realization hit Sakusa as soon as he got home. Y/N L/N was his soulmate. He tried to keep his thoughts in check. He told himself he wanted to be your friend before trying to tell you that he was your soulmate. He felt guilty about not telling you. There’s no reason he should feel guilty though. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong, he just wasn’t ready for that step yet.

So maybe he was freaking out a little bit. Possibly more than a little bit. Let’s see how he’s doing now, shall we?

Sakusa was laying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. His face red from just getting back from his run. He hadn’t tried to contact you yet but from experience he guessed you were still asleep. He really wanted to tell you that he knew you but he was too nervous to just come out and say it. He sat back up as an idea popped into his head; he was going to ask you on a date. By week’s end he would be on a date with his soulmate.

Now that he had a basic plan it was time to get to work. In other words: He needed to ask Komori for his assistance. He was not looking forward to this, he was going to be so smug about it. Sighing he got up from his bed and went across the hall to knock on his cousin’s door.

“Yeah?” He pushed open the door and looked at the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna say something and you can’t get smug about it.” Komori nodded as Sakusa looked up at him. “I found my soulmate.”

Komori’s mouth dropped open. “Really? When? Who is it? Why haven’t I seen them yet?”

Sakusa sighed, “It’s our manager. I haven’t told them yet because I want to get to know them properly…but. I was thinking about asking them out this Friday. After school when we walk them to the train.” Suffice to say that Komori was shocked. Sakusa was going to make the first move? Well he just had to help him out. If not for his sake then for Y/N’s.

“Alright. What’s the plan?”

Let’s see how you’re doing while those two talk. Y/N was sitting in their room doing homework. Well that’s quite boring, any thoughts Y/N? They were thinking about how they hadn’t heard from K very much recently. Maybe they should contact him.

‘K, how’s it going? I haven’t heard from you in a while.’ Giving up on your anatomy homework you laid back down on your bed and fiddled with your hands.

‘Hey, sorry I’ve been busy. What’s up? How’s being a manager going?’

‘Really good. There’s this really cute guy on the team and I’m hoping it’s you. I’d feel really awkward if it wasn’t.’ You laughed at yourself.

‘Oh. Well I hope it’s me too. I’d probably get pretty jealous if it wasn’t.’ He was smiling. It really was nice talking with you.

‘Got any plans this week?’

‘Not really, I’m just planning something to do with my cousin right now.’

‘Ooo, what’re you thinking of doing?’

‘He has a crush on this person so he’s going to ask them out. I’m here to help plan.’ Lying straight through his teeth.

‘That’s really nice of you K. It’s getting late though and we both know we’re going to be cranky if we stay up late talking to each other.’ You did have a point.

‘Goodnight N/N.’

‘Goodnight K, may your dreams be as sweet as you.’

Now you’ve done it. You were making him smile like a schoolgirl when she got a text from the person she had a crush on. He was so happy he ended up with someone as wonderful as you for his soulmate. Even at school you took precautions to make sure he was as comfortable as possible.

It’s really quite funny you two didn’t figure it out sooner. You have 4 classes together and the volleyball club. He’s very unlucky Komori is his seat partner in some of these classes. There’s been one too many teasing conversations about him looking at you with a dazed look in his eyes.

Komori got worse as the week went on. More teasing like when Sakusa would leave a strawberry milk on your desk, or god forbid a snack bar. Sakusa should just consider himself lucky no one else, especially you, has seen this. For all his teasing Komori really was happy for Sakusa. And so the plan got started.

From the few months Sakusa had known you he had noticed your favorite lotion, the way you used random pieces of paper as bookmarks, the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs a million times, and the way you liked to wear your hair. He noticed that your hair wasn’t looking as ‘good’ as usual so with the help of the internet found a good hair mask. His plan was to make a care basket and write a note before setting it in your desk. He would ask you out after club practice.

He noticed that recently your socks kept slipping down your tights. He found hack on the internet that was sewing socks to the tights. Another item added to your bag.

He listened to you complain that your lips were always chapped and that they didn’t feel soft. He found some oils and scrubs to put in your basket along with some chapsticks.

He saw that your bento box was getting a little worn down so he got a plain one and despite his little art knowledge painted one for you. The basket was a normal wicker basket with a bow of your favorite color tied to it. It was almost overflowing with everything he was putting in it.

Komori noticed all of the work he was putting into this and finally realized just how serious this was. He would report back to him about other things you would complain about or say you wanted. Oh you said you wanted a new water bottle because your’s was getting old? Now Sakusa knows.

It was finally time to write the letter. He was frequently scribbling things out in his rough draft.

‘It’s been so good getting to know yo’ no. That sounds like a breakup.

‘You’re the air in my lungs’ too much? He was so stressed about the letter. The basket was the easy part. He wasn’t very good at expressing his feeling though. He sat and thought on exactly what he was feeling before putting it to paper.

‘Dear Y/N,

We’ve only known each other in person for a few months. It’s been a wonderful experience. You bring a smile to my face from even the most mundane things. The way you turn away when you start smiling. The habit you have of fidgeting with your hands when anxious. It just makes me want to kiss them so you don’t rub your hands raw. The way you bite your lip to stop from laughing at my cousin’s jokes to tease him. The way you look at me with your gorgeous E/C eyes and how it seems like your face lights up when you see me.

‘I’m writing this because I want you to know I found my soulmate. You. Thank you for being here for me for my whole life. I appreciate you more than you know. I can’t wait to experience more with you and show you just how much I love you. It may seem soon to say that but we’ve known each other our whole lives and I do love you. I love the way you effortlessly are able to get me to calm down. Most importantly I love how you make me feel and I hope I can make you feel the same.

Love, K’

It was finally done. It may not be the longest letter but it was sincere. Now he would just have to hope you accepted him. Komori told him that he was crazy. You’re his soulmate, how could you reject him?

‘Hey, if I found you would you reject me?’ He felt so stupid and obvious for asking that. Now you would definitely think something is up.

‘Depends. If you treat me well then no, I would say yes. If you’ve treated me badly then yes, I would reject you. So tell me. Would you be nice?’

‘I hope so. I just hope you would think that too.’

‘I hope so too. Tomorrow is Friday how’s it going with your cousin?’

‘He’s asking the person out tomorrow. I’m hoping she doesn’t reject him. He’s put a lot of thought into the confession.’

‘Anyone would be an idiot to reject someone related to you. Unless he’s an awful person.’

‘What’s with you assuming everyone is awful?’

‘Keeps me from getting too hurt if I expect the worst.’

‘Maybe I can be your hope that not everyone is like that then.’

‘Maybe.’

One more night and Sakusa would ask Y/N out. He could do this.

When he woke up in the morning Sakusa grabbed the gift basket and the note. He placed everything very carefully. Sakusa thought he looked ridiculous carrying a very full basket onto the train. But it was for you so he didn’t care too much. Once he was sure no one was around he placed the basket on your desk and headed out to wait with Komori.

“I’m gonna be nervous all day.”

“Why not just ask early?”

“I want to give them time to think about their feelings for me. And I didn’t sign it Sakusa. I signed it with the nickname I have with them. I have to wait all day anyway.” Sakusa was only just now realizing how stupid he was. Why didn’t he just sign his name? Well, it’s too late now.

You smiled at him as you walked past and into the class. He looked at Komori and followed you into the room. Komori close behind. He saw the way your face lit up at the basket. You carefully plucked the note from the basket.

After reading it your eyes welled up with tears. ‘It wasn’t your cousin was it?’

‘No.’

‘Where are you K?’

‘Come find me Y/N’

You folded the note back up and wiped your eyes. You turned to Sakusa and Komori and called them over. “My soulmate found me. My soulmate found me and I don’t know who it is.” Komori raised an eyebrow at that.

“No idea whatsoever?” You shook your head and looked at the contents of the basket. Nothing really made you think of anything. You bet you were going to feel so stupid when you figured it out. “Okay, I’ll give you a hint. You’re very well acquainted with him. He’s on the volleyball team.”

‘K. Please don’t tell me you’ve been on the volleyball team this whole time.’

‘I have.’

‘Can I have a hint? Please.’

‘Y/N, think. Who would be able to notice all of these things. Who do you share a lot of classes with? Who do you make sure gets special attention? Who makes sure you get home safe everyday? It’s not Komori so please for the love of whoever. Don’t say Komori.’

Komori had sat down in front of you while Sakusa continued to lean next to your desk. “Komori.” Komori smirked and left you alone when Sakusa called him out.

“Sakusa?”

“Yes?”

‘Are you my soulmate?’

“Yes.” You could tell he was smiling beneath his mask and that made you smile in return.

“Would you care to go out with me after school today?”

‘You’re so silly.’

‘Just answer the question.’

“Yes, I would love to go out with you Sakusa Kiyoomi. My soulmate.”

‘Perfect, I would love to call you my partner. Whenever you’re ready to be official with me let me know. Until then I will be here taking you on dates.’

‘Kiyoomi. I would love to be yours. I’m so excited.’ Your cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much. The teacher walked in at that point and smiled when she saw the telltale signs. It also helped that Komori went up and talked to her.

Everyone got new seats that day. That day was also the first of many adventures with Sakusa.

Taglist: @fangirl125reader @hypernovaxx @lemurzsquad @nishayuro @mar1zana @imnotgoodwithnamessoidk @smp1ya1y

The taglist is still open for the other parts as well as for the LAST part of Sakusa’s series. I hope you enjoyed and I’m sorry it took this long to make another part of this.

RULES NAVIGATION

#haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyu x reader

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 4

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: The dagger squad comes and visits your students at school. You and Jake share a steamy moment in your bedroom.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, mentions of infidelity, fighting, spotting, cramping, fear of miscarriage.a filler before the DRAMA

Jake probably broke every single traffic law as he sped through the dark streets of California to get to the Kazansky house. He was still in his sleep shirt, boxers, socks and slides, not bothering to put on proper clothing as he got the text from you. You didn’t use the distress signal often, in fact there was only one time in the whole five years that Jake was with you that you had sent a ‘mayday’ text to him. It was when you got into a car accident and were being taken to the hospital. Jake felt like his heart stopped in his chest as he left work to get to you. And right now, he had that same feeling in his chest. 

He hardly put the car in park, as he ran to your front door. You opened it before he had the chance to knock. You didn’t say a word as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bathroom on the first floor of your parents house. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jake said, looking you over. 

“I-I know Doctor Miller said it’s normal, but I’m still spotting a-and I feel like it’s not normal,” You cried and Jake’s heart broke, “It’s not enough to be concerned but I-I don’t like it.” 

“Oh, pretty girl,” Jake said and pulled you into his chest. You sobbed into his chest and he shushed you, running his hand down your back, “If you’re really that scared, we can go back to Doctor Miller.” 

“I just saw her last week,” You sniffled, “She said the same thing.” 

Last week was your twelve week scan, and you had told Doctor Miller that you were still experiencing some spotting. She did a full pelvic exam and ran more bloodwork, but she told you the same thing she had two weeks prior, that nothing was wrong. Jake wasn’t able to join you because he had work but Bradley had been there with you. 

“What can I do?” Jake asked, grabbing your face in his hands, and brushing a tear from your cheek. 

“My head hurts,” You whimpered, “I’ve been getting headaches every single day.” 

“Come on,” Jake grabbed your hand and opened the door. 

The Kazansky house was decorated beautifully for the Christmas season. Sarah took her time making sure every little decoration was done perfectly. A large Christmas tree was placed by the fireplace that twinkled with lights and ornate ornaments. Tinsel and garland were wrapped around the railing that illuminated the steps of the grand staircase. Jake walked to your room, which you had also decorated for Christmas. He led you to your bed, and pulled back your covers. It was still made, telling Jake that you hadn’t even been to bed yet. He wondered how long you stayed up worrying about your unborn child. 

“Lay down,” Jake instructed, and you wordlessly followed. You got into your warm king bed, and Jake walked around to the other side. 

He slid in under the covers, and pulled you into his chest. You closed your eyes, feeling the familiar heartbeat against your skin, and breathing in the scent of his body wash. Jake always smelled like the earth after it rained with a hint of jet fuel. He lazily ran his hand up and down your spin, trying to calm you down. His other hand danced slowly on your hip, until he reached down and pulled your leg over his hips. You used to sleep like this against him all the time. It was familiar, comfortable. You let yourself relax against him, until you felt his hand on the back of your neck. 

“It’s okay,” Jake said as you tensed up. His hand rubbed lightly at the skin, and you could feel the tension in your head cease, “I got you,” Jake leaned down and kissed your forehead as he lulled you into a dream filled sleep. 

— — — 

You weren’t sure why you were nervous. Maybe it was the fact that you are about to have eight aviators in your classroom. Five of them seemed to have the worst filter that you had ever witnessed in your life. Ever since Jake had met Owen a couple weeks ago, he had been asking when he could come back and visit the class. You had to get permission from your principal, but you decided to turn it into a science lesson and have them talk about what it’s like to fly. Your dad was always on board to come talk to children. He said it was how recruiting the next generation starts. 

Your kids were currently at recess as you waited in the front office for your father and the dagger squad to show up. Ice asked what uniform you wanted them in and you said to surprise them. Alyssa was making copies for her class, when she looked up and saw the group walking in. She smirked and let out a low whistle. 

“The hunk squad is here,” Alyssa said and you looked up at the front door. Jake was the first one you saw, donned in his summer dress whites. 

“Oh god,” You said, and Alyssa chuckled. 

“Ooo baby daddy looks good,” She nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Who’s the one in the flight suit?” 

Your eyes landed on Phoenix, and you smirked at Alyssa, “Got a lil crush?” 

“Shush,” Alyssa blushed, “You can’t be the only one with a pilot. I gotta go get the kids. Get me her number,” You laughed and nodded as the dagger squad walked into the front office. 

You clapped your hands and smiled, “Ready to meet about twenty-five nine year olds?” 

“Oh hell yeah,” Fanboy said and Payback smacked his stomach, “Sorry. . .heck yeah.” 

“We had a briefing on language, they should be on their best behavior,” Your dad said as you led them down to your classroom. The kids were starting to come back and fill the halls of the Second Grade wing. Alyssa was going to bring your two classes in last so you could surprise the kids with the aviators. You had even gone and pulled out some of your fighter jet decorations, putting them up over the christmas decor. 

“Alright, you guys sit up here,” You pointed to the chairs at the front. You could hear the laughter of your kids and smiled, “I’m going to control the rugrats before they come in.” 

You looked at Jake and he smiled at you. You looked away quickly and Jake frowned. You hadn’t even said anything to him since the other night, and he was confused. He knew that your mood swings were rough at this point, but you were starting to give him whiplash. 

“Alright, aviators,” You said as you stepped out in the hallway, seeing your second graders lining up against the wall, “This is your teacher speaking, and we have some very special guests waiting inside our classroom. You all need to be on your best behavior and use your good manners. Alright?” 

“Alright!” You kids responded. 

You smiled, “Goodness, gracious-” 

“GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!” 

Bradley smiled at the door, hearing the voices of young children. He remembered the time at your old school when he came and played the piano for your class. He played ‘Great Balls of Fire’ and it quickly became the call and response for your class that year. It warmed his heart at the fact that you still used it. Jake looked over at Bradley and glared at him. Coyote could see the way Jake was throwing daggers with his eyes at Jake, and kicked his chair. Jake looked at his friend confused, but Coyote pointed to the door as a bunch of wide eyed second graders started filling in. Jake sat up a bit straighter and fixed the white cap that sat on his knee. 

“It’s Mister Jake!” Owen gasped and pointed to him. Jake smiled and lifted his hand in a wave towards the little boy, “I told you he’s real!” 

“Whatever,” Another boy said and shoved past Owen to get to his desk. 

“Lil dickhead,” Coyote whispered and Jake nodded. 

Once all the kids were seated, you walked to the front of your classroom, “Alright my little aviators, as you can see, I have brought some friends in to help with today’s science lesson. I present to you, the commander of the pacific fleet, Admiral Tom Kaznasky, callsign, Iceman.” 

“Is he your dad?!” An excited second grader shouted as Ice stood up. 

Ice chuckled, “I am her dad,” You nodded and sat down at your desk. Jake was the closest to you, and he looked at you, sending you a wink. You rolled your eyes and focused on what your dad was telling your class. Each member of the dagger squad introduced themselves and said their callsigns. 

“Why is your name Bob?” One of your kids, Eli asked. 

“It’s my callsign,” Bob answered. 

“Yeah. . .but why?” 

Bob opened his mouth but Jake answered instead, “It means Badass on Board.” 

You groaned, closing your eyes as you heard the gasps from your kids. 

“He said a bad word!” 

“That’s 500 hundred push-ups,” Hondo said, and patted Jake on the back. 

At the end of the presentation, the Dagger Squad taught the kids how to build paper airplanes. It was the sweetest sight as you looked at your classroom and saw the various members sitting next to your second graders. You held your tea mug in your heads as you sat on top of your desk, watching everything. 

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked, coming up and resting against the desk next to you. 

“Better today,” You said, taking a sip of the hot drink. 

“Ginger tea?” 

You nodded, “Mrs. Hernandez down the hall said it helped her during her first trimester.” 

“It gets better soon,” Jake said, “Rachel said that her favorite part was the second trimester. Things calm down with the morning sickness and nausea, she had a lot more energy, she wasn’t huge-” 

“Finish that statement, I dare you,” You pointed your index finger at him. Jake held his hands up in defense and walked away from you with a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Attention aviators!” Ice said, stepping in front of class, “Your TopGun training is over. It is time for your final hop! This is for the trophy, and the chance to get your name on the plaque.” 

“You heard the Admiral!” You said to your kids, “Line up at the door!” 

You took the kids down to the gym, where they were going to throw their paper airplanes to see who would go the farthest. It was meant to just be the kids, but you noticed some of the dagger squad had also made paper airplanes as well. You chuckled as Fanboy and Payback argued about whose design was better. The paper airplane TopGun challenge was something Ice did back when you were in grade school. You looked forward to it every single year growing up, and you continued the tradition when you became a teacher. 

“Aviators, line up on the line,” You said, and watched as the dagger squad members stepped up, “The little aviators, line up on the line.” Some of the dagger squad rolled their eyes and let the second graders step up to the painted lines on the gym floor. 

“Okay, in three. . . two. . . one. . . take off!” You yelled and twenty five paper airplanes went soaring through the air and landed at various spots in the gym. Jake and Bob were on the other side, looking for the top five farthest planes. 

“Aviators, form up, so we can give out awards!” Ice smiled. 

The daggers had to help the little ones to stand in a proper formation, which caused some protest because certain kids wanted to stand by their friends. Once Jake and Bob picked up the top five planes, they walked over to Ice and Maverick. The “trophy” was just a goodie bag with some candy and a first in line pass for lunch. You read the top four names and had the kids come stand up at the front of the formation. 

“The top Aviator, who will get the trophy and their name on the plaque  is. . . . Owen!” 

The little boy’s eyes lit up as he ran to the front of the formation. You handed him his airplane and the goodie bag. Once the formation was “dismissed” some of the kids asked the aviators to sign their airplane and play with them in the gym. It warmed your heart to see how good they were with kids. You couldn’t help but imagine what it’ll be like in just a short six months when you give birth to your child. You could see it now, barbeques and parties in your parents backyard, the Dagger Squad showing up with more gifts than you would know what to do with. Jake had a bright smile on his face as he jogged around the gym, trying to avoid the dodgeballs being thrown at him. 

“He’s good with them,” You said as Rooster walked over to you. 

“Yeah, I’ll give him that,” Rooster sighed and put his hands on his hips. You noticed he was wearing his khaki uniform today, something you knew he hated with a passion, but you loved how he looked in it. 

“You look good, Bradshaw.” 

A smirk rose on his lips as he looked at you, “I am good, Kazansky, very good.” 

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him, “I gotta get the rugrats rounded up.” 

“Can I do it?” Rooster asked and you nodded, “Goodness, gracious!” He yelled and all the second graders stopped in their spots. 

“GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!” They responded. 

“Okay, now that’s fucking cool,” Bradley said. 

“That’s five hundred!” Hondo pointed at him. 

You chuckled, “Line up, aviators! Time to return to the carrier.” All your kids quickly ran to line up by the wall like you have taught them to. You did a quick headcount making sure you got all of them, “My second graders, what do we tell the Dagger Squad, Captain Mitchell and Admiral Kazansky for coming in today?” 

“Thank you!” They all responded. Ice’s lit up with a smile. 

“You are very welcome,” Ice said, “Chief Hondo is going to hand you your wings as you leave. I hope to see you all very soon!” 

“Jessie, lead them to the class,” You said to your line leader. He nodded and walked towards the door of the gym. Some of the aviators waited by the door to give them high fives, as Hondo gave them stickers that looked identical to the gold wings pinned to some of their uniforms. You felt an arm drape around your shoulders and turned your head to see Jake standing next to you. 

“I’m glad Owen won,” Jake said. You narrowed your eyes at him and then gasped. 

“Jake, you didn’t. . .” You said and Jake sheepishly pulled out a paper airplane from his pocket and handed it to you. You read the name and shook your head. 

“I watched him push Owen into the door when they went to get more construction paper from Ally’s room.” 

“Thank you,” You said and held the paper airplane tightly in your hands. You looked Jake up and down again, really taking in the sight of him in his uniform. You bit your lip and took a step forward, whispering in his ear, 

“Come over tonight.” Jake opened his mouth to say something, but you kissed his cheek and headed to where your class was. 

— — — 

Jake came over that night like you told him too, but you gave him a specific time to be there. You had known your dad’s night time schedule since you were old enough to read a clock. Iceman was always in bed by 9:30 and asleep by 10. You had used that knowledge to your advantage, and became very good at sneaking around the house at a young age. So Jake arrived at your house at 11:30, and parked down the street like you told him too. You also had him come through the garage door because it was on the opposite side of the house from your parents bedroom. 

Once again, you didn’t say anything as you grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled him through the house. You made him take his shoes off and hide them in one of the storage closets in the garage. He stumbled a bit through the dark house and you shushed him. It felt like deja vu from that night twelve weeks ago, except this time you were pregnant and you both were sober. 

The second you got to your room, you closed the door and pushed Jake up against it and kissed him. Jake froze for a second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your hips. Your hands tangled in his perfect blonde hair as you kissed against your door. 

“Wait,” Jake said, pulling away, “What are we doing?” 

“Fucking,” You said and leaned into kiss him again but he stopped you. 

“What?” 

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Doing the same thing we did to get me knocked up.” You leaned in again and this time Jake didn’t stop you. He gently walked you towards your bed, his lips never leaving yours. When the back of your knees hit your bed, he picked you up a bit to lay you down on the mattress. 

The past week you had been having vivid dreams of Jake and waking up every morning desperate. You knew that your hormones were raging, but you didn’t think they could get you like this. And seeing Jake in his dress uniform today was not helping you at all. Your hands roamed Jake’s body, going down to the hem of his shirt, and tugging it up his perfectly sculpted body. Jake only broke the kiss to take his shirt off, leaving him in the jeans that hugged his thighs and ass perfectly. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” You said, pushing his shoulder so he’d lay on his back. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Your hands ran down the valley of his pecs, and Jake watched with hooded eyes as you kissed down his chest. He groaned as your tongue swirled over his nipple, your hips lazily grinding over his hard on. 

“Jesus, what has gotten into you?” Jake asked. You sat up quickly and Jake couldn’t believe his eyes as you started crying, “Whoa hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I hate you!” You cried and hit his chest with your fists, before crawling off of him. 

“What did I do!?” Jake asked, his eyes wide as you pulled your knees to your chest, “Y/N, love, what did I do? Did I hurt you?” 

“You asked me what has gotten into me! You got into me! You knocked me up! And now I just wanna rip your clothes off and smack you at the same time!” 

Jake tried to bite back a smile as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You didn’t fight against him as you cried into his neck. He knew that this would pass almost as quickly as it started, and you’d be laughing about it in no time. When the sniffles subsided, your fingers twirled around the dogtags on his neck. 

“Jake,” You asked softly. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you think we can go get ice cream?” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and Jake smiled down at you. 

He kissed your forehead and said, “Of Course.”

taglist: @materialgirl01 @cherrycola27 @love2write2626 @averyhotchner @maddievevo @xoxabs88xox @nagygreta @bioodforbiood @violyn20 @abaker74 @misshoneypaper @callsign-joyride @auroraboreallisfine @thedroneranger @rosewritesitout @nobody7102 @bradleybeachbabe @wildxwidow @cm27078 @caitsymichelle13 @whisperofsong @bonitanightmxres @maverooster @mizzzpink @khaylin27 @shawnsblue @shelbycillian @sexualparkour @thenewdaysalreadyhere @fandom-princess-forevermore @double-j @momc95 @buxkybarnez @paige-alexandra-may @coffeebooksandfandom @86laura11 @some-lovely-day @ohemgeewhat @itsmytimetoodream @emmaelix @springholland @atarmychick007 @okiegirl24 @i3k2ts @gassyandsassy1 @happierbelle @lemoonandlestars @captain-beskar @celestialeviereads @kandierteveilchen

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#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #Jake seresin #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #what to expect

[grapenehifics]

Prisoner 224

I really loved writing Out of Sync for @fulcrum843's @topwan-obikin fest prompt, but fully intended it to be a one-shot until @somethingsteff started feeding me ideas and, well, I'm limited on free time right now so this is still only a ficlet but I couldn't help myself.

If you don't know the fic, the Council finds out about Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship and they quit the Order. Anakin punches Palpatine when he insults Obi-Wan and gets sent to jail, and Obi-Wan hurries to hit the Chancellor as well so they can stay together. This also fulfills @ficwip's Hey Sweetheart challenge!

Text under the cut:

“Where are we going?” Anakin demanded. His hands were bound at the wrists in front of him, which didn’t make him look very threatening, but he gave his best glare to the backs of the heads of the troopers escorting him down the hall anyway.

Neither the troopers ahead of him nor the two at his back answered him. Their little group just kept marching along.

“I demand to know where you’re taking me,” Anakin tried, not pausing in his forward march but flexing his fingertips in preparation. He didn’t want to use the Force against them – besides the fact that they were probably just acting on orders from someone higher up the prison management chain of command, he was also pretty sure even something mild like knocking four guards out for a few hours would get his sentence extended and that was the opposite of what he wanted considering Obi-Wan was already slated to get out weeks before he did – but he also was not planning on taking a move to another cell block without putting up some sort of a fight.

He and Obi-Wan were kept apart for most of the day – Anakin in his cell and Obi-Wan in his – but because they were part of the same cell block, they were allowed to take both their exercise hour and their meal break together, Anakin holding Obi-Wan’s hand clasped in his as they jogged around the exercise track in their prison-issued tracksuits and rubbing elbows as they sat side-by-side with their dinner trays (and this only because they’d been told off for trying to sit on each other’s laps instead). But it was still a far sight better than not getting to see him at all, and Anakin hadn’t even done anything wrong (lately) and so really didn’t deserve to be punished like this.

“I want to go back to my cell,” he said.

“One of my batchmates is serving under Commander Cody in the 212th,” the trooper behind Anakin on his right said through his helmet vocoder. “CT-3812.”

“Sure. Punch, right?” Anakin said easily. “Yeah, I know him. But what has that got to do with anything?”

“That’s him,” the trooper agreed. None of the prison guards had ever told Anakin their names, just their badge numbers, although not for lack of asking. This one was one of the supervisors. Some of the younger guys were so green they had five-digit designations. “He’s met General Kenobi a few times.”

“Cool. So have I,” Anakin nearly growled. “That’s who I’m trying to get back to. So if you could just put me back in my cell, that’d be great. Or at least tell me what I’ve done.”

“Punch tells me he’s a real stand-up guy,” the trooper continued, as if Anakin hadn’t spoken. “Always makes sure his men have enough to eat. Doesn’t take unnecessary risks. That sort of thing.”

They rounded a corner. Anakin was starting to get desperate. “Just tell me where we’re going,” he practically begged. “I can call in a couple of favors and get myself reassigned back to Obi-Wan’s floor”-

“Punch also said,” the trooper on Anakin’s right said, so loudly he was almost shouting in Anakin’s ear, “that one time you and your troops joined up with their battalion, you threw yourself in front of a blazer bomb. Saved the lives of fifteen men.”

Anakin had done that enough times that that didn’t really narrow it down for him. “Which campaign?” he asked, but the trooper ignored him yet again, which seemed rude, considering he’d started the conversation in the first place.

A commlink chirped – Anakin instinctively looked to his own belt before remembering he didn’t wear one anymore – and one of the troopers at the front of their procession answered it.

“We’re ready for you, Sergeant,” the voice on the other end said.

“Copy,” the man said, replacing the device on his belt.

“Well, I’m not ready,” Anakin said, and he stopped walking. The troopers at his back nearly ran into him. “I’m not going any further without an explanation. If you can’t give me that, then you can just put me back in my cell, because” –

“We do regular maintenance, on all the cells,” one of the troopers injected, talking over the tail end of Anakin’s sentence. “Routine cleaning, things like that. Check that the water pipes are functioning properly, do a little light dusting…”

“I don’t care if my cell is clean or not,” Anakin hissed. “You can skip mine for the next five months if you want. Or let me do it myself. Is that the problem? Just give me the tools and leave me alone. If you’re worried I’m going to break out, I promise I won’t. As long as you’ve got Obi-Wan here I’m, like, the opposite of a flight risk.”

“It might take, say, three hours to finish the whole floor, wouldn’t you say?” the trooper on Anakin’s left asked the trooper on Anakin’s right.

“Maybe as many as four,” he responded.

“And we do these sorts of rounds every other week,” the first one continued.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Anakin demanded.

“If you’d just wait right in here, Prisoner 224,” the trooper who was friends with Punch said, and nudged Anakin in the back with the butt of his rifle.

“I told you; I’m not going. And you’re bluffing. You won’t shoot me.”

“That’s true,” the trooper admitted. “I’m not. What I am going to do is count to thirty, and by the time I get to the end, you’re going to decide to go, all on your own.”

“Ha,” Anakin said. “Like hell I am. What on earth do you think would make me” –

“Here we are, sir,” another of the troopers said, and he punched the button to release the door guard in front of one of the cells. He was wearing a bucket, but he somehow seemed to be able to stare straight into Anakin’s eyes anyway. “Four hours, every other week,” he repeated slowly, enunciating very clearly.

“I don’t care how clean it is,” Anakin insisted, just as he was very unceremoniously shoved forward into the new cell he absolutely did not want to be in –

“Oh. Hello, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up from where he’d been lying on his back across his bunk, his arms crossed behind his head. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What” – Anakin stammered as the door guard slammed down behind him, locking him in. Locking him into Obi-Wan’s cell. With Obi-Wan.

Anakin opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. The binders around his wrists unlocked and fell to the floor with a clatter. “Send Punch my regards,” he said, without turning his head. He and Obi-Wan hadn’t stopped staring into one another’s eyes from the moment they’d faced one another. Obi-Wan grinned. Anakin grinned back.

“Will do, sir,” his friend said jovially, but Anakin missed hearing him as he launched himself at Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan, laughing, caught him and lowered him down onto his bunk.

“Did I just hear you say something about four hours?” Obi-Wan asked mischievously, one eyebrow raising into a verbal question mark.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan did.

#hey sweetheart #out of sync #obikin

[undercoverpena]

xi. goodbyes can be sweet

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eleven of nowhere to run

chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. idiots who confess they love one another. no use of y/n. mentions of smut. feelings. angst. word count: 5.2k.

AN: welcome to the long awaited last chapter. i was going to do an epilogue, but instead, i've included the one-shots that i wrote for this and posted unbeknown to you all because i needed the fluff. .

dedications: thank you to @yeyinde for listening to me go back and forth about this, and to every single person who has missed this.

“Be safe.”

“You worried about me?”

Your fingers trace his cheek, knees digging into his mattress—the sea of your things behind, both the amount you grabbed the night he brought you here from his office, and the following nights since when he’d told everyone you were sick.

In a sense, it wasn’t a lie. Not something far from the truth.

“I’m worried that others will be looking for Guillermo Pallomari, yes.”

His lips find yours—chapped, yet soft. All telling, a thousand promises he knows he shouldn’t speak, but he kisses to your mouth all the same.

“I’m not leaving you, baby. I’m not done with you either.”

Lips curling into a smile, you brush your thumb over his cheek. “You’ll need Salcedo.”

Javi thinks he’s endured bad days—has practically collected them at this point.

Yet, he still somehow seems to find more.

He’s noticed how he manages to bring more of them to his cabinet, them lining all up, sitting on a shelf, twinkling at him like trophies. Instead of highlighting his accomplishments, they remind him of his failing. They don’t bring him joy. Instead, they wound him, slice into him—thinning him out and wearing him down.

Each day clutters itself to the next until he finds himself almost ready to collapse under the sheer weight of them.

The only reason he manages to keep standing is you.

Each day of hardship is made considerably better by the fact when he can, he can fall asleep beside you and wake to another day with you pressed against him. Whether in the morning (when the sun tries to peek over the buildings) or in the night, when the shadows begin whispering and the thoughts of what he could do, should do, all don’t stop.

It hadn’t been intentional—you moving into his. Yet, you have. Him loading the car up that night, you a shell of a person after the conversation with Fiestl. How you’d looked haunted, broken down, cracked open until all that made you you was scooped out.

You don’t have to do this.

That’s what you’d said, a duffel in his hand, your eyes shimmering, ready to paint your face in another wave of pain.

I’ll be okay on my own—I’ve done it before.

When he thinks back to it, he’s not sure what irked him more. The fact that you’d told him that or the look on your face when he’d entered that room and had you pressed against him, shaking, crying, sad.

He’s glad he was able to convince you in Spanish, and then in English, that you had him. That he wasn’t leaving without you, almost sliding his suit jacket off and rolling up his sleeves to demonstrate as such.

Now, you’re in his place—healing, helping.

It’s a reason why he’s staring at your desk—a new daily occurrence he’s added to his to-do list since you’ve been on leave.

A moment, more minutes than he can afford to burn, spent staring at it—how empty it is, how it’s been collecting dust over the last week or so.

Thank Stoddard for me. For approving my leave. I think you should be thanking me, cariño. I’m the one who gave him the order. I think I’ve been thanking you a lot.

He misses you being here. The way you help, aid—give your opinion. He could call. You’re in his apartment after all—the one kindly offered to him to be a puppet, to be a trophy, to be a body, but not a voice.

Snorting, Javi can’t help but think of your voice that first day he met you: not a glass prison. You hadn’t been wrong then, and you weren’t now—the papers in his hands were proof of it.

Rolling his jaw, he feels his hand tighten around the file—the one creasing, almost scrunching—when his sight is blocked. Fiestl, all of a sudden, there, loitering, hanging in the doorway—his eyes barely able to meet his outside of things Javi requires him to do.

“It’s none of my business, Fiestl.”

It leaves his tongue with purpose. Intent. Trying to draw a line where he can because he’s not sure he can hold himself back if he doesn’t. It had taken a day before you unloaded, let out the combination of rage, sadness and grief—your bones growing weary, tiredness suffocating you until you slept the day away, and he found you in the same place he’d left you when he’d gone to Cali.

It’s a sight he wouldn’t so easily forget. It’s why he supposes he’s looking through his brows at him, tilting his head to the side to drive it further home.

Javi can see Fiestl is battling—either with whatever is rolling around his head or his better judgment.

“I know, sir.”

Chewing his cheek, Javi pushes out a breath from his nose, closing his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. A list as long as his arm to enact, put into place—such as putting the word sir on a banned list, unless it comes from your lips.

“Just wanted to ask… see, I guess, if she’s…she’s okay?”

No, he wants to bark.

Almost does. Every part of him alight, fury mounting, spreading like lava that coats and ruins. The file in his hand—the drafted indictment—is almost cast aside because even if it’s not his battle, even if you’ve asked him not to get involved, he wants to.

Needs to.

That thrum, that pounding in his chest—the feel of your tears soaking his skin through his shirt—that first night when you shook and shook in his arms, in his bed, because you’d been hurt so fucking bad.

It makes him want to move around the desk and prod three fingers into his chest to drive the point home. He doesn’t. The title on his door is one of the reasons, the other being the shell of a person he remembers he’d had to leave in his sheets days ago—the one slowly becoming more and more you like as hours away from here tick on.

“No. No, Fiestl, she’s not okay.”

When he opens his eyes, he almost recognises it. The struggle, the battle—how it diminishes and skates inside the younger agent. He remembers it himself when the line got blurred when the need to win had reached a new pinnacle. Things shattering, never able to be repaired.

Javi straightens, standing up, placing the file down.

“I should have told her.”

Sighing again, but this time louder—Javi focuses all his attention on keeping his face unreadable, stern. Not that it matters, he’s not sure Fiestl is even aware, his hand on his hip, shaking his head—pity and guilt stitched into everything he wears now.

It's the only reason Javi softens, choosing to slide a hand over his chin, swallowing his annoyance, and putting it aside. “She’ll forgive you. I’m sure.”

Snorting, Fiestl looks up. “Nah, she won’t. But I don’t blame her. I… I wanted to get them. Make it right. I… I sent her there and I… it doesn’t fucking matter.”

Opening his mouth, he almost answers.

He almost spits out that he understands, and gets it—the edge a person can reach when doing the right thing. He swallows it—leaves the story buried where it’s supposed to be. Not needing gossip, more whispers, more things being muttered when he enters a room.

“You wanted to do good, Fiestl. You didn’t know when he approached you. Did you? I mean, fuck, when you asked for her to help, yeah, that’s an asshole thing, but she’s...”

Fiestl stares, either not knowing, or not wanting to know—both things he remembers seeing himself in the mirror when he’d been sent back home. The way he felt about himself and how it bled out, tainted everything else, tinged who greeted him back in the reflection.

How it attached itself to his clothing while he wrestled with the way people talked about him—and to him—seeing it now, all alive again, but this time etched, living and breathing in a solid person in front of him.

“She’s smart, brilliant—more than the two of us, right?” Javi continues, hearing a snort, low and underneath the shifting guilt. “And… she knows you’re a good agent. Told it me herself.”

Biting his cheek, Javi finds Fiestl doesn’t take his eyes off him—as though waiting for the words to be taken back that leave his mouth.

“Just… just fuckin’ learn from it,” he adds. “One day, she’ll forgive you. And in the meantime, maybe you can begin working on forgiving yourself.”

Something Javi realises you’ve said to him once before.

Alcohol burns differently when he coats his throat in the third mouthful in the last few seconds without reprieve.

Anger keeps mixing, churning, with the bile in his chest, all of it rising and falling—ebbing and flowing, bubbling and thickening. He’s alternated between clenching his fist and digging his thumb into the side of his skull for the better part of ten minutes—almost to the point he’s sure there’s a crevice there now, a hole, something else he’ll have to carry around with him.

Swallowing, he coats his throat in another mouthful—because it’s never enough.

Never. Ever. Enough.

He’d almost shattered the glass in his office door when he’d stormed back in. He had been close to breaking the buttons on his phone when he dialled his apartment number, only not crunching the receiver when you answered—all sweet, kind and full of snark when he said it was him.

Javi didn’t tell you, but a part of him figured you’d know deep down.

Your suspicions mounting anyway, ideas rolling, coming out in broken snippets as the two of you make heads or tails of his day.

It was different to know the two of you were right. As he’d said in the ambassador’s office, a part of him had been clutching to hope—that this time would be different, better, and more able to own the title of hero. Or at least be able to know he’d done good.

You should tell that part to grow the fuck up. You should be happy. You played the system like a goddamn fiddle. You won.

Shaking his head, Javi rolls his eyes. Something akin to grief melding into disappointment as he lets his head roll back, chin lifting to the ceiling, blinking and blinking—a part of him hoping he’d wake up, that this was a dream, a fucking nightmare.

It isn’t. The paper cut still throbbing on his palm is proof of it. His jaw slid side to side, thinking of the last few days—of the things he’s read and learned.

“Hey?”

Snapping his sight to the door, Javi takes a breath when he lands on you.

You all decked out in jeans, a shirt—likely one of his—open, barely buttoned over a t-shirt, looking the most casual he’s ever seen you in his office. Your shoulder leaning, face bare, but in his eyes, you’ve never looked better. You’re less weighted, less worried, your teeth not gnawing at your bottom lip, and stress isn’t scratching its way into your bones, even in his presence.

But in your hands, that’s what makes him smile: a coffee and a piece of fucking fruit.

Light blasting through the darkness, piercing holes in the mist that had begun descending since he found himself back in his office. The cage, the prison—the name and title on the door, which meant fucking nothing.

“Hey…” he replies, placing his glass on the desk, the base of it meeting the desk, sounding loud in the quiet. “You should know, I won, apparently.”

You snort, and he hears it thickly. If he thinks hard enough, he's sure he could even feel it on his skin. His eyes watching you as you move further around the doorway, still leaning, still keeping a distance. “I’m guessing it doesn’t feel like winning, though, does it?”

“No, cariño. It… fuckin’ doesn’t.”

Shaking his head, he runs his hand over his face—palm catching the tip of his nose—before he blinks, finding you still watching him, eyes narrowing, working him out, solving a puzzle.

“I didn’t… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You seemed like you needed the friendly face. And a pick-me-up.”

He tilts his head, considering your words. “Who knew putting people behind bars would be so rewarding—and easy.”

Your eyes hit him, sliding yourself further into his office, placing down the cup and fruit on the side table before folding your arms. “I think if it were easy, you wouldn’t have come and taken the job—just an observation, but you seem like a masochist. Or, you seem to love a good challenge, Peña.”

Snorting, Javi looks up—moving around the desk, tugging at the loops of your jeans as he turns you from the glass walls.

“Well, I did like breaking you down.”

“I think it was me who broke you, sir.”

Lips curling into his cheek, he jolts you by your waist. “Such lies, baby,” he whispers, brushing the words over you, ghosting them over your lips.

He could sink into you. Move you to his desk, reenact an earlier night shared months ago—when feelings weren’t spoken off, and the two of you pretended things weren’t heading to where they are now.

But, the day is running through his head. It travels round and round. Distracting him. Pulling him back from falling into you—something he usually finds he can do easily.

Has been able to the last few days.

Even when it means doing so when you’re asleep in his bed, curling you towards him, pulling an arm over him, until you wake—sleep laced on your voice, movements barely solid. Glad you’re back, sir. Glad you came back to me, Javi—

“Javi?”

Swallowing, he blinks. “Why—why are you really here, cariño?”

Chewing your cheek, he feels you let out a deep sigh before staring up at him, all bold and unafraid. “You don’t believe that I’m here to cheer you up?”

“If you were, you’d be wearing less.’

You laugh. And fuck, when you laugh, he swears the world gets a little easier. It heals the chip in his shoulder and tries to smother the lousy day with sunshine and sweetness.

“Alright. Remember this morning when you asked me to think about things? Well, I have.”

“Okay…?”

Taking another breath (more shaky, troubled), you smile. “I’ve thought about how I know you have things you need to do. For you. And, I’ve thought about how I want to be the person you walk away from all of this with—side by side, y’know? That I know we’ve talked on it, but when you hang your tie up—when you’re done… done. I want to be there.

“And, I thought about how, for a while, I have stayed here for all the wrong reasons, a part of me feeling like to do that, I had to sit at that desk and help.”

Rolling your lips, you gently take his hand in yours—it all so smooth, warm, a piece of himself unsure if he deserves it. You’re good, kind—having been hurt by things he knows he’s been around. A butterfly effect, a choice that’s rippled out and somehow hurt you.

But he doesn’t move from it. Instead, the gesture cracks him, feeling something fall within him—doubts, the twisted idea that he’d forever be alone—all crumbling from the edges of him, slipping and falling, the last pieces of it turning to dust, leaving him more raw.

Clutching his fingers tighter, you hold his stare more intensely. “But I don’t think I need to be here, in this building, for that to happen, do I?”

“—Wait—“

“Javi, I quit.”

Dipping his head, his fingers brush against your jaw, staring into your eyes, watching and feeling your lips curl into a smile. “W-what the f—“

“I rang Stoddard this morning. Asked him to put it on your desk—it was something I drafted up ages ago, before you. I just… didn’t get rid of it in case you needed me to leave the building or something.”

Scratching your neck, you smirk. “Knowing your level of organisation, it’ll be under a sea of other shit. But, it’s okay, I’m okay—I promise. You protected me long enough while I decided… you giving me time off, just in case? But, every morning, I wake up thinking I’d feel the itch to come back, but I don’t. I feel done—really done. I can’t… I can’t bring her back, and I can’t get any more justice for her.”

His mouth opens, but closes soon after. Because he’s not sure he has words. Not sure there is even any.

So, he whispers your name—not Luna, not any of the other names the office calls you. Yours. All soft and gentle—clutching your hip as he brings you close. The same name he colours the air with when you’re bare, full of him, fingers digging into his skin as your hips connect with his.

“I told you then,” you continue, “But I’ll tell you now. I’m not done with you.”

Your hand slid around his waist, fingers flattened to his lower spine. A look on your face that’s so endearing, he wants to brush his fingers over it, capture it in all the ways he can.

Then, the scent of you meets his nose—soothing him, coating him, travelling up, moving his shoulders from his ears. It adds to the way your body curves around his, settling his earlier frustration.

“Not done with you either.”

“Good,” you whisper.

His palm cups the back of your head, pulling you close, your smile against his neck, giving into his need to hold you easily. Intimate. Delicate. Romantic.

He’s so lost in it, how good it feels, that it takes him a second to feel you kiss his neck, light, barely a touch—before leaning back. “When you called me… you found out things, more things, right?”

“Cariño…”

“You don’t have to tell me—I don’t work here, after all. But I know you. Know how you tick. Whatever it is, we’ll find a way,” you say, half-smiling, “You know why? Because you’re a good person.” Your eyes holding his, staring—all intense, almost burning. “You have a voice—a nice one, if I do say so myself—so do good.”

He nods in partial disbelief that you somehow always know—that you get him, understand him. He’s also unsure how you always have the right words to say, when you barely know the mountain of shit he’s uncovered. Him realising that whatever he did, whatever he saved, whatever he found out, it was all for—

“And I think you know that there’s more than one way to get your justice, Javi. So, don’t let them tell the story,” you add, lower voice, an almost whisper. “You’ll always be the bad guy if they tell it—and you’ve gotta stop letting yourself be the villain, when you’re the fucking hero.”

He shakes his head. The word wounding him, hurting.

You must tell, must be able to know, because you pull him flush against you. The minimal gap gone, removed, your face stern, almost unreadable.

“You are, Peña. Don’t let your self-deprecation taint the good things you’ve done.”

Letting out a heavy breath, he nods. A sudden desire to bury his face into your neck rising, a need to have you close, feel your pulse against him—anything to distract him from the way your words both make him feel and light something in him.

Because, he knows you’re right. Even if he feels he’s barely scratched the surface of repenting for before, he knows it—how deep it all goes. How there are only so many options, he has left.

Instead, he strokes your cheek: his person—the person who introduced themselves as someone who’d find ways around problems. And, even without being here, without knowing everything, you somehow still do.

“Do you know what you need to do?”

Biting his lip, he nods, gradually pressing his forehead against yours. Closing his eyes slowly—almost in the same way he did this morning when you were curled against him, fingers swirling around and around on his chest.

“Good. When you're done…” your hands sliding up his chest, looping at the back of his neck. “How about after we go make lemonade? Build non-white picket fences and… ride horses?”

His lips curl. “You want to go to Texas?”

“With you? Yeah. I think I’ve been thoroughly convinced.”

His palm slides up your cheek, brushing the tips of his fingers against the hairline against your face. “Fuck, you really must like me.”

“Shut up, Peña.”

“Say you like me…” His other hand gripping your waist, keeping you against him, lost in you—the way your lips curl, desperate to slide up into your trademark smirk.

The one which embedded itself into him the moment you shot him with it.

The one which he liked waking up beside this morning—secretly hoping for many more. A secret, which apparently, has been answered.

Please. He thinks to himself.

Running the tip of his nose against your cheek, he hears the softest rumble of a laugh in your chest. “Say it, cariño.”

“I love you… sir.”

“Not your sir.”

Your fingers wrap around his chin. “Javi, you’ll always be my sir...”

“I love you too.”

Smiling, you wear it with such softness that it spreads to your eyes and lives on your lips. He nods, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Tasting coffee and sugar.

“I’ll wait at yours?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll see you there later.”

You nod, “I think they’ll cancel my Visa soon.”

Swallowing, he sighs. “Lemme guess, you don’t want me to use my charm to keep you with me for a bit?”

“I’d love you to, but you have more important things to do. Don’t you?”

He does.

Especially if he wants to build fences and spend evenings losing himself in tasting your skin.

Winking, you roll your lips. “Plus, I never cashed in my own favour with Stoddard.”

The air felt different when he had left the building.

Adrenaline thumped through him, pounding, matching how his heart hammered itself against his ribs. His hands grabbed at the things that mattered—leaving the array of files, the notes—only forcing the few post-its you’d written as he forced them into his trouser pocket.

He brushed his hand against them when he saw you leaning against the vehicle, waiting—a pair of his shades on your face as you folded your arms.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the grin that appeared on your face when he told you what he’d done. That he’d met with Carolina Álvarez, that he’d planned to tell his story. He also rather likes playing back a version of how you’d shown him how proud of him you were—eyes all wide as you found a place between his knees, cheeks hollowing, his thumb swiping the spit from your chin.

One day, he’ll admit to you that’s when he felt he had succeeded. He felt like a winner when he got to peel your clothes from your body, when he got to spread you out over the sheets, the blinds open, the city lights flickering as he sunk into you.

Now, he’s surpassed that feeling as he strides towards you. The building behind him was slowly forgotten with every step—the regrets still clinging to him, the fact that he wished he could have done more for those who had to pay to bring down the godfathers.

But for that moment, as he strode towards you, he fixed and focused, only on you.

“I want you gone, Peña. So do the Colombians.” “I understand, sir.” “Any aspirations you have for your career, have been dragged behind the barn and shot.” He smirks, thinking of you—of that smirk you used to shoot him. Copying it, smothering it over his face. “I resigned from the DEA this morning.”

There had been a thing that powered through him as he strode closer and closer, almost able to smell your perfume before he even reached you. He thought back to the way it wormed itself into him when you’d stood in his office, calling it a glass prison. When it burned itself into his sheets the night he took you back, you left before the sun came up.

Now, it’s woven with him. Your hand in his on the armrest of the aeroplane seat—your knee bobbing, teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

“Didn’t know you didn’t like flying, cariño.”

“Maybe I’m regretting travelling to Texas. You thought of that?”

Tightening his hold on your hand, he grips it—feeling you do the same back. “Not gonna let anything happen.”

“You going to fight turbulence, now?”

Grinning, he leans closer. “For you? I’d try.”

Shaking your head, he watches as your knee slowly stops bouncing—your fingers still tightly holding him, nails just about digging into his skin. He doesn’t care; you could force them in more and make him bleed, but he wouldn’t be bothered.

He’s happy—content.

Something settled in him, something he hadn’t known if it would when he’d got on the plane back out here.

Your head turns to meet his as the pilot speaks, Javi just watching as your lips curl up into a smile.

—and I have some information about our flight—

“You ready, sir?”

—Our flight time today will be—

He thinks of telling you he’s been ready for days, weeks. Javi even tries to think of something witty.

Instead, he places two fingers under your chin, eyes focused on the way the corners of your smile drop, as he responds only by kissing you—openly, freely—doing so until he feels you laugh against him.

And fuck, does he want to feel you laugh against him for as long as he breathes.

You’d expected to like Laredo, but not as much as you do. It’s nice, warm. It's a different heat than Colombia, in a way you couldn’t explain.

The mornings are different, calmer, yet busy. Your days spent at an old dining table, boxes and boxes of receipts, papers and forms—because apparently Javi’s disorganisation is inherited.

When you break for lunch, you hunt for him. Moving past the animals, the fences he’s helped repair, your fingers brushing through the grass, tickling your palms as you head towards him.

Today, his back turned, the shirt he’d left wearing earlier now coated in sweat patches and earth. If not for the environment around you, you could easily place him back in Colombia. A thought the two of you must both have, but never talk about.

And that’s the problem.

One the two of you share. Some unspoken bond, rippling between the two of you—shaking, thrumming. It is there being plucked by lack of sleep and sorrow.

You hadn’t been sure at first if he felt the same, until you began finding him watching the river the same way you did. Then you wondered if he, too, spends the minutes before dropping off to sleep thinking about how you both could have done it all differently rather than looking back in gratitude that you both made it out.

You’re glad you did. You’re glad both of you did.

Being here helps. It healing. Repairing.

Javi’s father being the exact person you expected him to be: kind, loving and protective. All qualities that run through the man you love.

As you near him, a smile graces your cheeks on command—it’s always easy to smile around him—has always been, but it’s been easier since being here.

“Look at you, feeling all unemployed and lost with yourself.”

Sliding your arms around him, you catch the last embers of a snort and a smirk as he looks at you. His body is still turned, pointed in the direction it usually is when the boats go by. A thing you know, spot and see too.

“I’ve got a job, cariño.”

Humming, you sigh. “I wouldn’t blame you, y’know? I get—”

“No. I’m not—I’m not going back.”

You bite the inside of your mouth, digging it down until you begin to taste copper. Because there’s honesty rising in you, it there, itching, scraping—

Desperate to escape.

Because you love him, love the life the two of you could have. Fear is doing its best to keep you apart, sleep deprivation adding another bow to its arsenal.

“I see them too,” you mutter, finding his face shifts, his brow arching. “What, you think you’re the only one with eyes, Peña?

“At first, I’d begun writing when they’d go past. See if I could spot a pattern—old habits, right? It helped before when I had nowhere to run.”

He nods, so much understanding hanging behind the yellow tint of his shades that it hurts. Almost punches the breath from your lungs.

“But, the more I looked for one, the more I could feel all this slipping. Realising I didn’t want that, I had no reason to run or fix or save. I didn’t—don’t—want to lose the light—that fire you sparked in me in your office—when you basically told me you wanted me here.”

His fingers slide against your arms, palms brushing until fingers clasp at yours.

“I think we have to talk about it if we want it to work here,” you say more softly. “We both…. Gotta stop keeping the other out for the sake of saving face. Cause, I’m struggling too, Javi. I’m not…. I feel bad, guilty. Like I should be doing more than baking and taxes and…”

“Being happy?”

Nodding, you bite your lip. “Yeah.”

“Just feel…. Fuck.”

“That we didn’t win?”

Nodding, he chews his cheeks. “But, we didn’t lose either. Did we?”

“No,” you say, sliding your hand in his. “We didn’t. This is why we have to try and talk about it—so we don’t lose what we won.”

He nods again, tongue tracing over the front of his teeth. “You’re one hell of a winning, baby.”

More words swing, spreading out, all unspoken, but they’re there in the air. In his eyes. In yours.

“And you make me happy too.”

Snorting, he rolls his eyes before he pulls you flush against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, against your cheek, against your lips, until your bodies are flush, and his eyes stare into your soul.

“I’ve rang them—about the boats.”

I know, you think to yourself—because you’ve rang to tell them too.

His chin rests on your head, arms tightening around you. “I love that you’re here. That you chose this.”

“I know, sir. I know.”

“Less of the sir.”

But this time, compared to the others, you think he means it a little bit less. Especially with the way you’re sure you can feel him grinning.

Post Nowhere To Run One-Shots:

I wrote these during the series and I was meant to wait to post, but the darkness was dark and I needed the light. So, enjoy these as they were intended.

▸ coming home

▸ dancing in the kitchen 

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #mm: nowhere to run #nowhere to run update #pedro pascal narcos

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 14 | S.R

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A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - Spencer makes a decision regarding Cat. But before he has a chance to follow through he makes a startling realisation that could very well be his undoing.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - mentions of Cat Adam’s, talk of death penalty, therapy, brief mention of masturbation, swearing.

WC - 4.7k

Chapter 14 - Sympathy for the Devil

Another few days passed and there was still no sign of you. Either this really was all in his head or you were avoiding him. But honestly, Spencer didn’t have any free brain capacity to think about it. 

His every waking thought revolved around Cat Adam’s and her death sentence and whether or not he had the strength to see her one last time. He wrote about it extensively in his journal, hoping getting it out of his head and onto paper would help him make sense of it all, but it didn’t. 

If I see her then I’m basically admitting defeat, I’m playing my hand and letting her have a front row seat to the destruction she’s caused. There’s no hiding what I am. I can put on a smart suit and wear my best poker face but she’ll see right through me. 

Cat always does. 

She’ll see it in my eyes, the way she’s broken me beyond repair. She’ll be able to tell the full extent of the damage she’s done to me and I don’t want her to have the satisfaction. 

But on the other hand, I’m still alive. I may be barely hanging on by a thread but I am alive. And she’ll be dead soon and a part of me wants her to see that she didn’t ruin me completely.

Just mostly. 

One thing I do know absolutely is that this is the most I’ve wanted to relapse in weeks. I would kill a man right now for one more hit, one more shot of dilaudid. 

I would wrap my hand around someone’s throat, squeezing until their pulse became thready beneath my fingers and watch as the life drained from their eyes. All for one more release. 

That fucking bitch shattered me into so many pieces that I’m not sure I’ll ever be whole again. Yet I’m still thinking about seeing her because for whatever reason, I feel bound to her. 

She wasn’t wrong when she said we were the same, prison showed me that I am more like her than I could have ever dreamed. When I hurt those men, when I poisoned the drug supply, I became bound to her in ways I never believed possible. 

Maybe because she’s the only one who would understand. She’s the only person who could identify with the fact I liked hurting those men. And somehow that enslaved us. It bonded us in ways deeper than if her baby had been mine. 

Don’t get me wrong, I hate her more than I ever thought it possible to hate another human being. I would have killed her with my bare hands if JJ hadn’t stopped me and I would have slept well. But her dying doesn’t change anything. Her dying doesn’t suddenly make me a better person. It won’t change the fact I was in prison, it won’t change the fact I am a drug addict. 

Her death won’t make my life better or worse. The damage is already done, there’s no way to change that. But at least if she’s dead she might stop haunting my every dream, worming her way into every facet of my life. 

Still, the question remains: am I strong enough to see her one last time before she’s put to death? 

Maggie glanced up from the journal in her lap to Spencer who was fiddling with his sleeves and chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’d barely spoken in their sessions for days and he still didn’t want to talk about Cat, but reading his journal would help her get an insight. 

“Who is Cat?” She asked placing her hands on the pages as if to absorb more information. 

“She’s the reason I went to prison. She was a hitwoman. I outsmarted and arrested her so in return she had me arrested.” Spencer didn’t look at her. 

“You know I have more questions, right?”

“I assumed as much. Go ahead.” He grazed his slowly growing nails over the back of his hand, able to scratch himself lightly now. 

“You wrote about poisoning a drug supply and hurting people? What happened?” Her fingers drummed lightly on the page. 

“I was being threatened in prison. If I didn’t help them move these drugs they would have killed me. I needed to buy myself some time. A lot of men ended up really sick, and I didn’t feel bad for it.” He scuffed his shoe on the carpet, watching the way his foot moved back and forth.

“I imagine it was dog eat dog. You had to look out for yourself.” 

Spencer suddenly looked up at her, an almost dangerous look in his eyes. 

“You don’t understand.” He frowned. “I wanted to kill those men. And not just for self preservation. I wanted them dead because I wanted to see how it would feel. I only felt bad that they didn’t die.” 

He saw Maggie swallow before she tore her eyes off of him and looked back at his journal. 

“And you mentioned a baby?” She changed the subject. “A baby that wasn’t yours but it could have been?” 

“We never had sex.” He was quick to say. “She uh…she claimed to have me sexually assaulted by her partner but I never believed that was true.” 

“Burying your head in the sand?” Maggie narrowed her eyes on him. 

“No. The science doesn’t add up. The drugs she used to make me hallucinate flood the brain with serotonin. Its effects are similar to MDMA in that it’s nearly impossible to…uh…” he averted his gaze as his cheeks started to burn. “It’s difficult to get an erection.” 

“I see.” Maggie was, as usual, unphased. “So this woman had you arrested and then pretended to be pregnant with your child. It all sounds like a power play.”

“Oh it is. Everything is a game to her. And I’m her pawn.” 

“Why are you showing me this?” Maggie closed the journal and focused on him. 

He thought it was fairly obvious. 

“I need you to tell me what to do. She’s being executed in two weeks and I need to know if I should see her or not.” He continued scratching at the back of his hand. It wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as when his nails were longer but it helped.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Spencer. That’s a decision you need to make on your own. You say you’re already struggling with your sobriety just thinking about her?”

“Yes.” He grinded his teeth. “Very much so.”

“Well then seeing her will only make that worse, surely?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“But if I don’t see her, she’ll think she’s won. I can’t have her going to her grave thinking she beat me.” 

“So maybe you should see her.” 

“You’re no help.” He growled. 

“I told you, I can’t make this decision for you. Only you can decide if you’re strong enough to handle seeing her.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. 

“I don’t think I am.” Spencer huffed. “But I won’t ever get another chance.” 

“Think about it. You don’t need to make any rash decisions.” 

But Spencer was the king of rash decisions. And so no sooner was he done with his therapy session he found himself at the bank of phones patients were allowed to use, dialling a familiar number. Luke answered on the second ring. 

“Luke Alvez.” 

“Hi, it’s me. Spencer.” Spencer leant against the wall, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“Hey, is everything ok?” Luke sounded concerned. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He took a breath and closed his eyes. “I want to do it.” 

“To do it?” Luke’s frown could be heard down the phone. 

“Yes. I want to see Cat before she’s executed.” Even as the words left his lips he wasn’t sure about them. 

But he didn’t think he’d ever be sure. He could sit and think about it until he was blue in the face but he’d never be sure what to do either way. He’d regret seeing her and he’d regret not seeing her. 

It was a catch twenty-two with no possible good outcome. So ultimately he just had to go with his gut. And his gut told him he needed to see her one last time. Saying it out loud made him instantly wish he had a needle of dilaudid waiting for him. 

“You…seriously?” Luke swallowed.

“Yes. I need to prove to her she didn’t break me. I need her to see I’m still standing.” Barely, but I am. 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” 

He wasn’t sure, not in the slightest. But he was doing it regardless. 

“Will you go with me?” Spencer suddenly sounded small and scared. 

“Of course I will. We’re away on a case right now but we can do it as soon as I’m back.” 

“Thanks Luke. And uh…don’t tell the others. They won’t understand.” Spencer opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the wall. 

“I promise. Talk to you soon.” 

“Bye.” Spencer hung up the phone, his hand shaking as he did so. 

No good could come of him seeing Cat again. He just hoped it wasn’t the final nail in his coffin. 

***

Spencer quite often found himself feeling as though he was drowning. Most of the time he barely kept himself afloat, sinking in a pool of his own misery. But actually drowning was a whole other thing. 

“Keep kicking! Come on, you can do it!” Nick cheered him on while Spencer frantically waved his arms and tried to keep himself above water.

Now his walking was getting better Nick had suggested swimming to build up his strength. Spencer had never been a fantastic swimmer, but he was ok. He could at the very least stay adrift. 

But with his injury, drowning seemed inevitable. 

“Kick! Come on Spencer. You’re almost there!” 

Spencer flailed his arms hoping he could reach the other side without using his legs too much but it only made his lower half sink and when his lower half sank he started to panic. 

His t-shirt clung to his body, the water sodden fabric making him feel heavier. Nick had tried to get him to remove it but Spencer refused. It was bad enough not having trousers and his sweater on. 

He needed to regroup. He needed just a second to fail before he could continue. He stilled his movements and let the water encompass him, rising over his head until he was completely submerged. 

He told himself he could do this. It was only a few more metres and then he was done. He wasn’t giving up, no matter how much it hurt. He pushed himself back to the surface and inhaled deeply before forcing his legs to kick in time with his arm movements. 

He blocked everything else out that didn’t strictly relate to kicking his legs. The side of the pool was getting closer and the burn spread down his thigh but it was a good kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that told him he was achieving something, he would make it to the other side both physically and mentally. 

“Come on Spencer! You can do it!” A voice goaded him but it didn’t belong to Nick this time. 

He frowned to himself as he pushed himself the last few feet and grasped the wall for dear life. When he wiped the water out of his eyes and the hair back off his face he looked up. You sat on the edge of the pool right in front of him, legs crossed and a proud smile on your face. 

“You did it!” You cheered as Spencer just stared at you dumbly. 

Soon Nick was by your side, helping Spencer out of the pool. 

“That was great!” Nick grinned, helping Spencer sit up as he caught his breath. 

He blinked a few times, briefly wondering what it was about Nick he’d thought so similar to Morgan. Sure they looked kinda alike, but not enough for Spencer to have made that connection. He shook his head and looked between you and Nick. 

“Uh…you can see her right?” He frowned as he focused on Nick. 

“Is that a trick question?” Nick asked in confusion. 

“He thinks he’s imagining me.” You spoke with an amused smile. “Tell him he’s not crazy.” 

“You’re not crazy.” Nick chuckled, squeezing Spencer’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it.” 

His parting gift was to toss a towel at Spencer which he wrapped around his shoulders and obscured himself with. You kicked off your shoes and rolled your jeans up to your calves before dipping your feet in the water. 

“So, are you going to stop doubting yourself now?” You smiled while Spencer continued to stare at you. 

“Never.” He scoffed, with a roll of his eyes which made you giggle. “I wish it were that simple.” 

You stopped giggling at the change in his tone and narrowed your eyes on him. He hugged the towel close to him as though it was a security blanket. His wet hair fell on his forehead and small beads of water rolled down his face. His eyes were full of nerves the way they always seemed to be around you. 

“The paranoia that comes with heavy drug use takes a while to kick.” You shuffled a little closer to him and you practically saw the beat his heart skipped. 

“The thing is,” he chewed on his lip. “I don’t want you to be real.” 

“Uh…wow thanks.” Your eyebrows knitted together.

“I don’t mean it how it sounds.” He was quick to counter. “It’s just…if you’re real…you’re not who I thought you were.” 

You mused over his words for a moment knowing he wasn’t about to say anymore on the matter. 

“You’re very cryptic sometimes, you know that?” Your lip up tugged at the corner. 

“It’s all part of my mysterious charm.” He chuckled lightly. 

You couldn’t agree more. There was something about him. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something that made you want to succumb to him, let him consume you. 

You shuffled even closer and leant forward, placing your hands on his wet thighs. You saw his breath catch in his throat as you edged closer to him. Goosebumps flared on his flesh as you ghosted your fingertips over his skin. 

He let go of the towel and his hands settled onto your waist but his eyes never left yours. You moved closer still, until your noses were brushing against one another’s. 

He swallowed hard, completely engulfed in you. He could see every little freckle, every little blemish that graced your beautiful face and he tried to memorise every single one of them. He could feel the heat emanating from you and it wrapped around him, comforting him in ways he’d never felt before. 

Your eyes fell to his lips and he instinctively ran his tongue along them. Your hands moved up his sides and your arms wrapped around his neck. He wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and let you devour him. He wanted to belong to you again in the ways he’d missed so much. 

Even if you weren’t real. Even if none of this was real. It was even more reason to take the plunge wasn’t it? But for some reason he couldn’t. He let his hands drop to his sides and his back straightened a little but you stayed close, clearly not sensing his hesitation. 

“W-what are you doing?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face. 

“I don’t know.” You giggled lightly. 

“You said…recovery. Your recovery comes first.” His breathing was heightened and he could so easily crash his lips against yours. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he surprised you both when he sat back and shuffled away. 

“It does.” You frowned. “But I…well now I just feel stupid.” 

Spencer sighed and wrapped the towel around himself again. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid. I just…you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you, Y/N. But you and I both know it’s not a good idea. Not like this.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and nodded  although you weren’t sure you agreed. 

“I’m scared too.” You blurted out, averting your gaze. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you were scared that this isn’t real, but I’m scared that it is.” You glanced back at him and he saw the tears behind your eyes. “In my experience fantasies last. Realities don’t.” 

“Agreed.” He gave you a tight lip smile. “Maybe it’s better we just keep the fantasy a little while longer then.” 

You nodded before pushing yourself up to your feet and then helped Spencer stand too. The sparks you felt when you took hold of his hands was undeniable, and judging by the way he looked at you, he felt them too. 

You stayed in silence as you walked back towards your rooms but it was a heavy, palpable kind of silence. When you reached Spencer’s room you stopped and smiled softly at him. 

“So do I get to see you flail about like a dying fish again tomorrow?” You teased him but Spencer didn’t seem in the least bit amused. 

His back straightened and he tugged the towel tighter around his body. 

“Uh…I’ve actually got a thing tomorrow.” 

“A thing?” You frowned a little. 

“Day release.” He sighed as he spoke. 

“You got some big fancy plans?” You chuckled but he shook his head sadly. 

“No.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair. “I need to visit someone.” 

“Someone? Someone important?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” He sighed again, louder than before. “I’m visiting a prison inmate before their execution. I’m visiting the woman who ruined my life.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. Clearly he didn’t want to elaborate and it wasn’t your place to make him. 

“Right. Ok.” You nodded, not wanting to pry. 

“It’s a really long and messy story I don’t want to get into right now.” 

“Fair enough.” You smiled a little as you stepped backwards. “I hope it goes…well? Not really sure what to say.” 

“Me too.” He half-smiled, reaching for his door handle. “I’ll see you soon?”

“You surely will.” You smiled one last time before turning on your heels and continuing down the corridor. 

Spencer heaved a sigh as he let himself into his room and collapsed on his bed. Tomorrow was going to be his hardest challenge yet. Coming face to face with Cat again would either make or break his recovery. 

Although he already had a pretty good idea which one it would be. 

***

He was silent for the entire car ride from PIW to Mount Pleasant. Luke tried making small talk but after getting nothing in return he gave up. 

Luke had brought him a suit from his apartment along with a white shirt and red tie. It had been weeks since Spencer had dressed so well and admittedly he missed his comfy clothes he’d grown so accustomed to. The shirt felt scratchy against his still healing wounds. The tie felt like a noose around his neck. 

He stared out the car window and scratched the back of his palm willing his nails to grow so he could pick at his skin. His chest was tight as though someone were sitting on it, like the weight of the situation was physical and pressing down on him. 

He came close to several panic attacks, only just managing to pull himself back from the brink in time. Diverting from his scratching his fingers nimbly shimmied up his shirt sleeve and gripped the crook of his arm. The track marks had all but faded by now but he could feel the heavy pulse of his vein beneath his fingertips.

He pressed against it, wishing more than anything else that it was a needle and not his fingers. He squeezed against his vein in the hopes it would alleviate some of his cravings. 

Maggie would tell him to masturbate. But even if he weren’t in a car with Luke in a completely inappropriate environment, he was sure his thoughts of his impending meeting would not allow for him to get it up. Instead he pressed harder against his vein, closing his eyes and imagining the dilaudid coursing its way through his body. 

He envisioned the feeling of euphoria that flooded over him when he shot up. He remembered the sensation so well.With his eyes closed he didn’t realise Luke was watching him out of the corner of his eye. And when he felt a hand on his leg he jumped and his eyes darted open. 

“We can still turn back. If this is too much for you?” Luke spoke softly. 

Spencer recoiled his hand back out of his sleeve and shook his head. He had to do this. There was no turning back. 

***

A shiver passed down Spencer’s spine as they stepped inside the women's correctional facility. His temperature plummeted the second the doors were closed behind them. He glanced at Luke who didn’t seem to notice, telling Spencer it was all in his head. Most things these days were, why should this be any different? 

They were checked in and scanned by a metal detector where Luke had to hand over his service weapon and cell phone. Spencer remembered it well. He recalled coming here that day he was released from Milburn as though it was yesterday. 

He recognised the long, dimly lit halls as they followed the guard to an interrogation room. The air was as thick and heavy as it had been the last time he was here. The last time he was here when Cat made him believe she was pregnant with his child. The last time when she’d made him think she’d had his mother killed. 

The last time when he’d thrown a table across the room and shoved Cat against a wall by her throat. The last time when he’d growled at her that he was going to kill her while JJ tried to pull him off of her. 

The guard silently led them to the small viewing room where Luke was supposed to wait while Spencer came face to face with the devil. The guard left them alone and Spencer kept his eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look at her through the two way glass. Luke was at his side and he soon felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s ok, I’ll be right here the whole time.” Luke whispered but Spencer shook his head. 

“I need you to leave.” Spencer croaked out the first words he’d spoken since leaving the institute. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Well I don’t very much care what you think, Luke.” Spencer looked at him, eyes filled with anger. “I need you to leave. Go get a coffee or something but I do not want you witnessing this.”

“Witnessing what, exactly?” Luke raised an eyebrow at him. “You going to finish the job you started last time? Choke her to death?” 

“I don’t need to, do I? She’s going to be put to death soon. I just need you to trust me and I need you to leave. Please?” Spencer grinded his teeth. 

A small part of Luke worried what might happen if he left. A tiny piece of him actually believed Spencer might kill her. And as much as Luke wouldn’t blame him for doing so, he didn’t want his friend going back to prison. Spencer couldn’t handle prison again. 

“Promise me you won’t murder her?” 

“I promise.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“Fine. Come find me when you’re done.” Luke patted his back before skeptically leaving the room. 

Once alone, Spencer took several deep breaths whilst rolling the purple and gold bracelet around his wrist. He kept his eyes trained on the floor the whole while, scared that he might break the second he saw her. 

His heart beat furiously against his chest making him feel a little nauseous. His vein in his left arm felt like it was pulsating, begging for drugs. He was five weeks sober. This would not be the thing that pushed him over the edge. She couldn’t turn his life upside down again. He had to be stronger. He had to survive this. He had to prove to her that she hadn’t destroyed his life. 

Taking one last deep breath he forced his eyes up and through the glass. The breath got caught in his chest as he laid eyes on her for the first time in over two years. She looked much the same, haggard and tired; fed up and frustrated. 

She crossed one leg over the other and picked at a thread on her orange jumpsuit much like he did when he was uncomfortable. He gave a thought to what might have happened to her baby, the baby that wasn’t his but he had wished was. 

“You’re not pregnant with my baby. That isn’t the secret. It’s too easy.” He slid the chair back out and sat down opposite her again. 

“You think getting pregnant with your baby was easy?” She clicked her tongue. 

“It’s not my baby.” He shook his head, leaning forward on the table closer to her. “But I wish it were. It should be mine. Because the truth is you and I probably belong together.” 

A sentimental smile plastered across her face but he knew it wasn’t genuine. Sociopaths didn’t feel sentiment. 

“You think so?” 

He leaned even closer to her, not wanting JJ to overhear what he was going to say and hardly believing what he was saying himself. 

“I do.” He confessed. “You’re the only person who really gets me. You’re the only person who understands that I liked hurting those men. So yes, I think you and I belong together. In some fucked up, twisted way, you and I are perfect for each other. 

And I wish your baby was mine but it isn’t. I wish it were mine so I had something tying us together. And that fucking terrifies me to admit because for the most part, I hate you. For the most part I want you dead. But there is a small part of me that truly believes we are perfect for each other.” 

He sat back, straightening his tie while Cat looked at him amusement. 

“You’ll always be tied to me, Spencie. Baby or no baby. We’re bound to each other. We’re the same.” 

He rubbed his eyes with his palms trying to rid himself of the memory of the last time he’d seen her. It didn’t do him any good to dwell on that now. 

Only he couldn’t help himself. 

Had he been thinking of you when he’d said those things to her? As much he wanted to deny it, he’d meant those things he’d said. 

But what about you? You were who he belonged with. How could he have said those things to Cat and meant them while you were…

…while you were, what? 

It all hit Spencer at lightning speed. The puzzle pieces that were his life started slotting into place right in front of his eyes. Everything became clear with startling clarity and suddenly Cat Adam’s was the last thing on his mind. 

He quickly darted from the room, heart racing more fiercely than it ever had before. It all made sense yet nothing made sense. And there was only one goddamn person who was going to be able to provide clarity on the situation. 

He was hyperventilating by the time he found Luke, sweating and shaking and barely able to breath. Luke was quick to his side, wrapping an arm around him and stroking his back.

“Reid, what’s wrong? What happened?” Luke panicked, eyes wide in fear. 

“Need…need to…” Spencer choked out through ragged breaths. 

“Just breath, Spencer. Don’t try and talk.” Luke tried to calm him but Spencer pushed him away. 

“No.” He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his words. “I need to speak to Emily right now. You get her here Luke. Get her here right fucking now!” 

“Spencer, calm down. Take deep breaths.”

“No!” Spencer raised his voice. “Call Emily and tell her to come here. NOW!”

“Spencer, what’s going on? What happened?” Luke reached for him but Spencer batted him away. 

“It’s time Emily and I had a talk.” He panted. “It’s time for her to tell me the truth about Y/N.”

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dirtytissuebox @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/m #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[witchysquirrel]

Epiphany

Chapter Twelve

“Ravenna!” Rhys boomed, wrapping her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek as if he’d not seen her merely 20 minutes ago. 

“Rhysand,” she laughed, then stepped aside. “This is Fetrin, my childhood friend from the Dawn Court.”

Rhys extended his hand to the male with a broad smile on his face, though Ravenna could see the silvery glow in his eyes that dared Fetrin to say the wrong thing, and the air was thick with the darkness that his power exuded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rhys said. “Anyone who’s a friend of this one is a friend of ours.”

“Pleased to meet you. It seems she’s been well taken care of here,” Fetrin replied, bowing his head to Rhys. 

“She takes care of herself very well,” Rhysand corrected. “And takes care of the rest of us too, now that I think of it.” With that, he winked at the pair and headed off in the opposite direction. “Enjoy the party! Send Thesan my regards!”

Fetrin watched him leave, and then leaned down to Ravenna’s ear. “He is extremely scary,” he said over the din of the party. Ravenna laughed, genuinely, in response.

“He is scary, but he means well,” she added, finishing her glass with a giggle.

“I believe you. Another drink?” he proposed, his right hand falling to rest on the small of her back. 

“Please,” Ravenna answered, allowing him to guide her back towards the bar. She was feeling the freedom that the alcohol allowed her, and couldn’t remember why she had been nervous in the first place. The orchestra played beautifully, the crescendo of the music reverberating in her chest. She ordered a cocktail, and the pair floated back to the edge of the room. 

“Tell me more about you,” Ravenna said, sipping her drink and raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re not the kid I knew anymore.” 

“I’ve done a lot, since… since then. Studied philosophy for a while, did some more military service. Traveled some,” he answered, one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Married?” Ravenna asked as casually as possible.

He chuckled. “Never. My parents tried a few more arrangements but… I think work just takes up too much of my time.”

“I know that all too well,” she replied. “Sometimes I prefer it that way.”

“I don’t believe for a minute that you’re still on the market, Ravenna,” Fetrin said, shaking his head slightly. 

“Believe it,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ve been told my lifestyle isn’t quite what most males are looking for.” She scanned the ballroom, the hall glowing in contrast to the sky that was now dark with twilight, stars sparkling in the distance. Subconsciously, Ravenna knew she was looking for the points of Illyrian wings above the crowd, but when her eyes finally landed on Cassian talking with a group of soldiers she knew, her chest fluttered. She quickly returned her attention to Fetrin.

“My mother said something similar to me last week. That no one wants to marry a workhorse,” Fetrin replied, making a face. “But I don’t have nearly the same amount of charm as you.”

Ravenna leaned into his shoulder, nudging him slightly. “As charming as I may be, I prefer to just do my job, most of the time.” She glanced in Cassian’s direction again, surprised to meet his gaze. He gave her a small smile, before she averted her eyes again. 

“What does healing entail outside of wartime?” Fetrin asked. 

“Mostly helping people recover from their injuries, doing home visits for wound care in the city and things of that nature,” she answered. “The immediate post-war period is always the busiest. What about you?”

“In short, I attend a great deal of meetings and respond to an even greater deal of correspondence between the High Lords and their other allies on the Continent. A glorified messenger,” he conveyed, rubbing his chin. 

“You most certainly work more in collaboration with the High Lord than I do,” Ravenna said, “and I’m sure Thesan is a much better companion than Rhysand.” The pair laughed together, and Fetrin nodded emphatically. 

“Thesan isn’t old enough to scare me yet.”

They talked about their lives, where they’d been, how their parents were, how the places they frequented when they were young had changed. There seemed to be an endless supply of things to be updated on, and they found themselves chatting like old friends – Ravenna tried not to think about the subtext that they were chatting like he hadn’t killed the love of her life and then tried to marry her afterwards. 

Ravenna finished her drink. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Fetrin nodded, and her head felt fuzzy as he offered her his hand. She took it, allowing him to lead her through the crowd to the dance floor in the center of the room. They discarded their empty glasses on a nearby table, and Fetrin swept her into position, one hand on her waist. She took his hand, resting the other on the crest of his shoulder. She had to choke back the feelings that brimmed at the familiar scent of him now that he was so close. He carried her across the floor, the other patrons blurring in her peripheral vision. 

The first song that played was heavy with fiddle, quick and flighty, with lots of spinning. Ravenna reveled in the music, enhanced by the buzz in her head, and giggled the whole time. Fetrin kept her upright and headed in the right direction, and that was all she needed. The next song that played was much slower, more dramatic and sensual than the one before. She looked up at Fetrin, and he pulled her slightly closer by her waist, both hands resting just above her hips. She swayed with him, looked up at him from below dark lashes, until the music picked up slightly and he spun her once more. When Fetrin released her to twirl, she met Cassian’s gaze from across the room. His eyes were dark, siphons flickering vaguely as he watched her. The music carried her back around and into Fetrin’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming her again. 

He needs to watch his hands. 

Ravenna’s cheeks grew hot at the sound of Cassian in her head, barely more than a growl. She continued to dance, floating across the floor as her dark hair flowed over her shoulder behind her. The gown she’d chosen was perfect for dancing, the cape that flowed from the skirts sparkling as she moved.

I’m serious, Ravenna.

It’s just dancing. I’ll be done with him soon.

They danced for a few more songs, until the music slowed to a pace where they were able to catch their breath. 

“When do you go back to Dawn?” Ravenna asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Fetrin replied. “I’ve got a meeting to get back for.”

“So many meetings,” Ravenna breathed. “You sound exactly like all of my friends. Everything is always so political.”

Fetrin laughed. “There are always decisions to be made, pawns to be moved, I guess.”

“I only wonder where the humans fit into all of it,” Ravenna said with a sigh. 

“I do too,” Fetrin said, eyes softening. Ravenna let the silence sit for a moment after that, determining where to go from there. 

“I went on a mission once,” she started, “we’d invaded this mansion on the Continent, it was some sort of rescue mission. There were a number of injured and dead and it was my job to recover the casualties and heal as much as possible in the field.” He watched her intently as they danced, slowly swaying together. 

“Only two of those I healed from there had injuries from the invasion itself,” she continued. “The rest were human slaves that were being kept within the house, so badly beaten that I could only provide minimal relief.” She held her breath as she waited for Fetrin’s response. 

“That is despicable,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “It’s despicable that it’s not completely outlawed throughout Prythian and beyond.”

“Isn’t it? I’ve always hoped something would change, but after that it became hard to ignore,” she returned.

“I’m hopeful something will change one day,” he said. “With the right people in charge.” Ravenna smiled up at him genuinely, detecting no mistruth. They danced one last song together, before he led her from the floor and went to fetch water. They stood together in silence as they caught their breath and sipped the water from crystal chalices he’d found at the bar. 

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am,” Fetrin said, “for everything that happened, back then.” They stood facing each other, and Ravenna tried to keep her face neutral as she responded.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No. I took him from you because I thought I deserved you more. I was young and stupid and I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ravenna had not expected this from him, after so many years, and she wasn’t sure exactly what she should say next. She’d gotten the information she needed, she could really say anything she wanted at this point. 

“It’s okay, Fetrin. I forgave the kid who did that a long time ago,” she told him, and she meant it now. She didn’t think they should’ve married regardless, they clearly weren’t all that compatible – but his mistake was a childish one, and they had been so young, so impulsive and immature. 

He gave her a grateful smile, almost a pitiful one, and she tried to mirror the expression on his face as he stepped slightly closer to her. “I’m glad you invited me,” Fetrin told her, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You look as beautiful as ever, by the way.”

She felt herself starting to get an anxious feeling again, unsure of how she would say no if he made a move on her. Ravenna forced the corners of her mouth to turn upwards into a smile as he gazed into her eyes, but she broke eye contact a moment later to take another sip of water. Her liquid courage had worn off, and now she was just drunk and nervous. 

She took a deep breath, wetting her lips. She turned at the sound of someone coughing awfully close to her.

“Did you save me a dance?” Ravenna turned to find Cassian, hands poised behind his back, an expression she couldn’t identify on his face. 

“Oh of course!” she mused, grateful for the interruption. She turned back to Fetrin. “Fetrin, this is Cassian, General of the Night Court. Cassian, meet Fetrin.”

The two males shook hands, a tentative smile on Cassian’s face. “Do you mind if I steal my dear friend for a dance? She saved my life recently, so I feel like it’s necessary,” Cassian told him. 

“Be my guest,” Fetrin answered, tipping his head. 

Cassian outstretched his hand to Ravenna. 

Come dance with me. 

She slipped her hand into his and followed him back out to the dancefloor. 

You’re moving pretty confidently for someone who’s not the best dancer. Ravenna’s laugh echoed through his head and he couldn’t help but join. Finally he took her waist in his hands, pulling her into him. Her hands found his shoulders and they moved across the floor together, awkwardly at first, until Cassian let a giggling Ravenna take the lead. 

“How’d it go?” he asked, once they were far enough away. 

“Good, actually,” she said. “It was nice to talk with him.”

“He was getting a little handsy there for a second,” Cassian replied, a hint of warning in his tone.

“You are so overdramatic,” Ravenna teased, rolling her eyes. “Jealous maybe?”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “No,” he insisted. “I’d never be jealous of an emissary,” She beamed up at him at those words, letting him twirl her again. 

“Your wings are looking really good, by the way,” Ravenna added.

“Thank you. I can even use a sword again,” he said with a wink. 

They traversed the floor a few more times, laughing drunkenly as they moved to the music. When the song finished, he pushed her back in Fetrin’s direction and stalked off, looking back once to watch her walk away with a smile on her face.

Ravenna stumbled back to Fetrin, the remnants of the smile Cassian had left her with still painting her features. He looked amused, waiting for her to return.

“You didn’t tell me you had a mate,” he said as she approached, brow furrowed ever so slightly. 

She looked at him, with her head cocked sideways, her smile turning to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The General,” Fetrin said plainly. “He’s your mate, no?”

Ravenna’s mouth went dry, her stomach dropping. “No, he’s not my mate,” she said, voice dull. Her mind was racing faster than she could keep up with, thoughts ricocheting off of other thoughts causing her head to throb. Fetrin didn’t know them. He was just mistaken. That had to be the explanation.

“Ravenna…” he said, hesitantly, the look on his face a mixture of fear and realization. “You didn’t know, did you?”

She shook her head. “I mean no, we’re not mates so there’s nothing for me to not know.”

His face read pure pity. ���You have no reason to, but trust me on this. That is your mate. Whether either of you has realized it yet or not.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Ravenna replied, raising her eyebrows at the male.

Fetrin shrugged. “Do you think the mating bond cares?”

“I don’t know!” She felt like she had been punched in the gut, like all the air had left her. She wondered then, if Cassian knew. Or if Rhys or Azriel had sensed it already, had all known it before she had.

“Let me walk you home,” Fetrin said quietly, offering her his arm. She latched onto it and followed him out of the ballroom wordlessly. “I know it’s a lot to digest.”

“I’m not even 100% sure I believe you,” she said. “I mean it’s just your opinion.”

“I’ve seen lots of mating bonds take shape over the years. I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you fit together. It’s inevitable.”

“What am I supposed to do about it? Break up his relationship for my own benefit?”

He pursed his lips, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked. “It’s a sticky situation, for sure. Time will tell.”

They walked the rest of the way into town in silence, Ravenna trying to focus on walking in a straight line. She had already not been able to handle her feelings for Cassian, but she had thought they were just feelings. A mating bond was different, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was why his voice in her head felt so right. She couldn’t process it, and she briefly wondered where Mor was, as she hadn’t seen her since the beginning of the night. She doubted Mor would know what to say, but she felt like she needed to tell someone, to see if they agreed with Fetrin. Maybe she looked stupid, and it was obvious to everyone else. 

They made it to the street below the House of Wind and Ravenna turned back to Fetrin. “This is where I leave,” she said. “I’m really glad you came.”

“Me too,” he told her, moving his hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry if I told you something you weren’t ready to hear yet.”

“It’s okay, maybe I needed to hear it,” Ravenna replied. “Thank you Fetrin.”

Before he could reply, she winnowed above the wards that guarded the House, and made a rough landing in the courtyard.

-

Epiphany Masterlist

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar oc #cassian acotar #acotar angst #cassian angst #acotar fanfiction #cassian x oc #cassian x reader #acotar smut #cassian fluff #sjm #sjm universe #maasverse

[mailjeevasfan]

hello! I love your writing. Could you write a prompt where the reader is working on the Kira case with L, and L shows that he truly does care about the reader and wants her to be safe. Maybe the reader and L have a bit of an argument before he admits this / shows it.

thanku sm <3 this was fun to write btw exams taking it OUT of me at the moment. requests are 100% still open but i may be more inactive for the next three ish weeks

-l lawliet x gn!reader

open ❦

༺♡༻

it was raining today, which wasn’t normal. weather in this region was typically mild, and you felt a tension in the air when you stepped outside that morning, a kind of static charge. perhaps a storm was coming?

you were planning to move into the task force building but that plan hadn’t been secured yet, so you were currently residing in an apartment not too far from work. you could walk there in a short amount of time if you wanted to, it was only any trouble on a rainy day like this. you luckily remembered an umbrella.

you arrived at work and studied the reflections of the dull sky on the skyscraper. you then spent the next few minutes bypassing the tedious security system watari had created. you understood that the confidentiality of the investigation was important, but this was always a pain.

walking into the building, you noticed that you were the last to arrive. the somber atmosphere of the outside world had somehow carried into the main office, the cheery air around matsuda being an exception. you greeted everyone and went over to l. his energy had been particularly charged after the recent events. the death note had been discovered and higuchi had been caught. the chaos had done no good for anyone, and you wanted so badly to make sure that he was okay. but no matter what, he didn’t say a word to you.

when the day was over, you hung back after everybody had left to go to their respective rooms, or left to go home. l still sat at his usual station, studying some sort of statistics on his computer. a lot of the time you didn’t even think the things he worked on were relevant at all, it all seemed very convoluted to you. but he always got his work done so you never bothered to inquire.

you felt tired from the way he’d been acting because you were worried. you were upset that he was distancing himself from everybody this way, but you were still becoming increasingly concerned. something had changed about him, he wasn’t as motivated as usual. you really wanted to approach him about the issue but didn’t know how. but today, you decided to follow through in trying to talk to him, because the issue wasn’t fixing itself.

‘ryuzaki?’

he briefly glances at you coming to sit by him before looking back at the monitor. you study his expression in the time he takes to respond, and his eyes are dark. even the brightness of the screen doesn’t put any life into his expression.

‘…yes?’

you roll your eyes at how nonchalant he’s acting, but continue nonetheless. you decide to be as bold as you can allow yourself to be.

‘i want to speak with you. something’s changed. you’re so quiet, especially towards me.’

‘i’m-‘

he carefully evaluates his response before continuing to speak.

‘…i don’t know what you’re talking about.’

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not but decide to ignore whatever he’s trying to pull.

‘i want you to be honest with me. i’ve been working with you and the others for long enough to know when there’s something wrong. i promise you i’ll understand if there’s a problem, there’s a lot going on right now i know. so please, just-‘

‘you must forget about it. continue with your work as usual so that i can continue with mine.’

his blunt interruption catches you completely off guard, his mood changed so quickly. but something about the wording of his outburst…

are you keeping him from working somehow?

‘what are you…is it me? have i done something?’

he finally looks at you, and you swear you can see concern in his eyes.

‘no… no, of course not. i’m sorry. i just mean, i-‘

he stammers again. you realise that he probably doesn’t do this often. you put a hand on his shoulder, worrying that you’ll regret it. he becomes rigid for a moment before relaxing again.

‘i’m worried for you, y/n. these feelings are foreign to me. there are so many problems with you being here, but you haven’t caused any of them. it’s… hard for me to explain it.’

but you understand. of course you understand. you’ve already said, you’ve known him for long enough now. and what he’s trying to describe… you almost feel wrong for finding it endearing.

‘i understand ryuzaki, and i don’t ever want me being here to create conflict or problems. i want you to know that i’m here because i want to be. i want to catch kira, no matter what it takes. i think the same way you do. i want to be like you one day.’

you’re hesitant when saying the last line, but you promised yourself you’d be bold and transparent.

‘you’re fine as you are.’

he speaks with a small smile on his face, his eyes finally showing affection. it’s something you haven’t seen in a long time. you pause, hoping he’ll continue.

‘i’m sorry. you don’t deserve to have to deal with what happens here. i’m so frightened. if anything happened to you…’

his face still lacks some sincerity, but you see everything in his eyes.

‘but i want you to stay. and i will do everything in my power to protect you.’

you turn his chair around and smile at him, satisfied. much to your surprise, he actually smiles back. his expression is reverted. he leans up and softly kisses you on the lips.

when you leave a little later, you look up at the sky the same way you did this morning. the clouds have parted, and it almost looks as if the heavens are beaming light onto the earth.

༺♡༻

#death note #death note x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #i love him jesus christ