#like she just has a hearing in washington that she has to make it to in 11 hours okay

[greensagephase]

Valentine's Day (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; they're currently in their friendship era, so no romance but we still have soft Miguel!) Summary: Just a rainy Valentine's Day surprising your friends with baked sweets because Valentine's doesn't have to be only about romance. Word Count: 4,311 Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. As I mentioned above, they're in their friendship era, so there's no romance, but Miguel lowkey got me blushing anyway soo! Warnings: None. Just reader and Miguel being their usual sweet and caring selves to each other. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr., Bill Withers (I don't know why but this song just came to mind while writing this, so just look at it as a platonic song for now :) ) Fanfic's official music playlist:

Spider webs shaped like hearts decorate corners. Holographic hearts are displayed at the cafeteria. Even some of the tables have little decorations, more than likely set up by a small group of Spider members that usually take time of their day to do things like holiday decorating within the Spider Society to make the workplace “fun.” As to the holographic hearts out and about, you imagine those have to do with Lyla, who has been all too excited about Valentine's because of her heart-shaped glasses.

You walk through the cafeteria, past occupied tables where fellow Spider members sit. A reusable bag hangs from your shoulder in which you carry baked treats. You've successfully handed out containers filled with them to the majority of your friends, with the exception of Peter B. and MJ, and Miguel. You continue to search for Peter B., certain that you’ll find him here. As you walk, your gaze turns to the windows. It’s a cold and rainy day in Nueva York, and it’s also Valentine’s Day, which prompts a memory to flash through your mind, one that you put away for now. You focus on your goal: find Peter B. and then Miguel.

You slow down as you hear Peter's voice from somewhere, so you look around until you spot him talking with another member, carrying Mayday like always.

“Alright, pal, I'll see you around,” he says with his signature smile, giving the other member a pat on the back before they part ways.

Mayday sees you first and immediately begins to wiggle around, making Peter notice you. He grins and the two of you meet halfway, Mayday already reaching for you. You smile and upon meeting them, you accept one of her hands and play with it.

“Good morning, Mayday,” you say, greeting her. She squeals in delight before repeating “morning” now that she’s speaking two-word sentences. It’s amazing how much time has passed, how much she has grown, which you don’t let yourself think too much about. Instead, you focus on her attire for the day. She's wearing pants and tiny boots, and best of all, a cute pink sweater with red hearts printed all over it, showcasing Peter's spider symbol in the center of them.

It's no longer surprising. Mayday's closet is filled with spider-theme clothes, which has made you wonder if Peter has his own merchandise creator. You feel like it would be a thing Peter B. would definitely have.

“Hey, you heard that? She said ‘morning’ - that’s another word!” Peter says happily. “Daddy is so proud of you, honey! Wait till MJ hears about this!”

You chuckle. “It’s amazing. Before we know it she’ll be speaking full sentences.”

“Okay, that just made me, like, really sad. She’s growing up too fast,” Peter says quietly, holding his daughter close to his chest. His gaze is gentle as he stares at her. “It’s part of life, I know, but…”

“I’m sorry to have brought it up,” you say gently as you give him a gentle pat on his arm. “Would some baked treats make it better?”

That seems to get Peter and Mayday’s attention. “Baked treats?”

“Brownies. For Valentine’s,” you say, pulling out a container and offering it to him. “I baked some brownies for everyone.”

“Totally feel better now,” Peter says with a grin, accepting the box.

”For you and MJ, and maybe Mayday if she can eat them,” you say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s! Hey, they’re even heart-shaped! MJ is gonna be so happy. You know we all love your baking,” Peter says as he gets one out and eats it. Once he finishes eating, he says, “So amazing!”

“Glad you like them! Make sure to save some for MJ, though,” you reply with a smile. “Have you seen Miguel?”

Peter looks around, closing the box of treats. “I saw him earlier. He was going to the Go Home Machine room to check something but he might be back at his lab already,” he responds. His gaze flickers to your bag, taking notice of at least two boxes left in there, though he doesn’t ask anything.

“Alright, I’ll go check if he’s there. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, saying goodbye to Peter and Mayday for now.

“See ya!”

You walk out of the cafeteria and head to Miguel’s lab, reaching it in no time. You stop at the entrance and as always, you call for Lyla to have her ask Miguel if you can enter. You never walk in unannounced out of respect, even though Lyla has told you that you should stop. Even Miguel has hinted at it, at the fact that you can just walk in, yet, you do it anyway out of respect.

“Y/N! Miguel isn’t here. He’s at the Go Home Machine room. Something’s up with the machine but he should be done in a few minutes. He said you can go in,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly and floating in midair.

“You asked him already?” you ask, amused.

“Yep. I think he’s even going to send you a message because he thinks you might not believe me when I tell you he says to go in.”

And of course, right after she says that you receive a notification from your gizmo, alerting you of a new message. A message from Miguel.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me * inside *** the lab.”

You smile softly at his emphasis to wait inside. He knows you too well.

“See?” Lyla says with a soft smirk. “So, come on in! I see you have the goods.”

You laugh softly as you enter the lab, carrying your bag with the last two heart-shaped containers you bought a few days ago to package the baked treats. The containers were easy to hide in Gabriel’s old bedroom, the same one that’s your current temporary room since your building caught on fire a few weeks ago. Luckily, your floor was spared but lower floors did not have the same luck. Now, the building is under cleaning and reconstruction, a process that will take at least two months to finish. Or at least that’s what your landlord said. You’ve been staying in Nueva York with Miguel in his penthouse after he offered his place countless times. He assured you that you were welcomed to stay for however long you needed to, whether that was days, weeks, or months. There was even a moment you swear he almost said years, before he stopped himself.

So, you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse in Gabriel’s, a man that you never met and unfortunately will never have the opportunity to due to his passing, old bedroom. You’ve made his room yours for the time being, even encouraged by Miguel to decorate it as you wish to make it feel like home because as he said, “my home is your home.”

And so, currently living with Miguel meant that you needed to find a way to hide your little Valentine’s surprise. You thought about baking treats for your group of friends, including Miguel, last week, but you knew that you’d need to come up with a way to have Miguel out of his own penthouse in order to truly surprise him as well. You quickly came up with a plan and even got a little help from a certain AI assistant, who was all too happy keeping Miguel busy here at HQ last night while you baked. You thought about your plan well, so much that you even baked a cake and cookies as an excuse, so that whenever Miguel got home, he wouldn’t wonder why it smelled like baked treats when there were none in sight, since you planned on hiding the Valentine’s treats in your room, packaged and ready to go for today. And, it has been a success. You’ve surprised all your friends with a little something, as a gesture of how much you care about them. The only one left now is Miguel. You briefly wonder why you didn’t just give them to him at the penthouse this morning when the two of you were having breakfast. For some reason it felt right to leave his delivery for last.

You walk through Miguel’s lab, heading straight to his platform, deciding that you’ll wait for him there until he comes back. You take a seat on it and gaze around. Even from here you can hear the sound of rain, which sounds very peaceful. The silence and the pockets of darkness brings you comfort. You can’t help but find it amusing that over time, you’ve spent more and more time in Miguel’s lab. You recall the days when you hardly came in here. Those were days when Jess and Miguel called you in, usually whenever Jess was delivering a report to Miguel about a mission you and others had been on with her, asking you to go since you were her pupil. Now, you’re here every day, and not just once but multiple times throughout. You can easily spend two or three hours here while Miguel and you work on your own thing.

You smile to yourself. Life can really change.

The rain continues to go strong outside. You let it distract your thoughts for a few seconds, which reminds you yet again of a memory. Of a Valentine’s Day with your Peter.

It was the second before last Valentine’s Day you spent with him. It was also a rainy day in your universe. As always, you baked something for Peter since he loved your baking and cooking. You knew you could never go wrong with baked treats since they were his weakness. He, on the other hand, had a few plans up his sleeve. He always did.

You smile at the memory. He had planned a whole evening that included a restaurant reservation, but the day was cold and a rainy one, being February. It started raining at some point in the night and the rain didn’t stop throughout the day. There was so much rain that the restaurant had to cancel dinners due to flooding two hours before your scheduled reservation. It didn’t matter to Peter though. He asked you to get ready regardless, to take your time.

An hour and a half later, there was a knock on your bedroom door from Peter. As if he didn’t live there, or as if you didn’t share that bedroom, but you opened the door regardless with a smile.

And there was Peter, dashing as always. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t seen you a million times before, as if he was falling in love with you for the first time all over again.

“So, we had a little change of plans,” he said with a sweet smile. “But rain or no rain, we’re having a romantic dinner.”

“Don’t we always have a romantic dinner?” you asked softly.

“An extra romantic dinner, darling,” he replied, taking your hand and kissing the back of it with one of his hands.

You smile softly now as you remember that evening.

He held your hand and instead of leading you to the dining area, he led you to the small living room section of your apartment. The overhead lights were off. The only light in the area came from lamps and lit candles spread around the space. The scent of food filled the air, a sign that Peter had cooked. Soft music played in the background from Peter’s record player and of course, his choice was a vinyl of romantic songs. You had a feeling that the night would end with a dance in the living room. Your suspicions only grew as you both stepped onto a picnic blanket and found couch pillows placed around so that the two of you could sit comfortably. There was a vase in the middle with flowers and around it were things like linen napkins and utensils, two glasses for drinks, and everything else needed for a dinner.

Then, there was Peter, serving you a drink and dinner with flickering candles all around, soft music in the back as you talked. You remember telling him that his idea was lovely and sweet, that it would be unforgettable. The night did end with a dance, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. You even remember the pit pat of rain against your apartment’s windows and how you could see the flash of lightning even through the curtains. You recall what it was like to dance with Peter. It wasn’t the first nor last time. There were times before and times after that night, all in your small apartment, the one that was supposed to be temporary after graduating from college. The two of you talked about moving to a bigger apartment, one that would be comfortable for a family, for children. Neither of you minded your apartment in the moment though.

You still don’t. Even if you’re alone now. Even if Peter has been gone for so many years.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Peter whispered that night as he held you close to his chest. His arms were warm and protectively wrapped around you, your back to his chest.

“Happy Valentine’s,” you say now.

“Happy… Valentine’s.”

You look up as you hear the voice, finding Miguel standing a few feet away from you at last. His gaze meets yours and you notice his head is tilted to the side slightly, watching you curiously. You blink, pulling yourself out of your memory and offer Miguel a small grin, one he returns instantly.

“You keep asking for permission to come into the lab. You don’t have to ask,” Miguel says as he steps closer, breaking the short silence.

“It’s out of respect. Besides, I see the way you get annoyed when members just walk in,” you reply, amused.

Miguel looks down at you with a soft frown, his lips in a small pout as if silently asking, ‘Really?’

“Yes, but -” Miguel pauses and sighs. It’s different. You’re different. You’re not just any member. You’re his friend. His close friend. His… Miguel clears his throat. “You… Are different. You know why.”

Yes, you know why. You’re friends. Close friends. He’s your… “Right, but I still like to ask. Just to make sure.”

Miguel’s frown deepens, he raises an eyebrow almost in annoyance, yet he can never be annoyed with you. Ever. “Right, just to make sure,” he repeats, raising his hands in surrender, giving up and realizing there’s no changing your mind about this. At least not now, Miguel thinks to himself.

“Anyway, I brought you something,” you say, standing up at last from his platform. His crimson eyes immediately fall upon your bag. He’s been too busy thinking about how you always ask for permission to walk into the lab that he failed to see the reusable bag near you. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping just a few feet.

Miguel wonders what exactly you’ve brought him but he doesn’t have to wonder for long when you pull out two small containers, pink and heart-shaped. You hand them to him with a warm smile.

“I baked a few treats for everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Looking at the small containers, Miguel accepts them. He can’t help but feel a little awestruck for a few seconds. When was the last time someone gave him anything on this day? He hasn’t celebrated in years. It was so long ago.

“I hope you like them. I baked a little special thing for you. It was my first time baking them but I think they turned out well,” you say, bringing Miguel back to the present. “Go on,” you tell him gently, excited to see his reaction to the second box’s contents specifically.

He nods and opens the first one. Heart-shaped brownies in the size of your palm greet his eyes. He can’t help but admire how you arranged them with cute baking parchment paper, going the extra mile to make him and your other friends feel special today. His lips curl into a soft smile and he feels a wave of heat rush to his cheeks. You baked brownies for everyone and you included him. A warmth spreads through his chest at the thought, the realization.

You stare at Miguel, his smile and blush not going unnoticed. The sight makes you smile.

“Thank you,” Miguel says as he keeps looking at them, the amazing smell reaching his nose. He already knows everything you baked will be amazing. It always is. His mouth waters just at the sight.

“Check the other box!”

Miguel grins at you and nods, closing the first book even though he wishes he could go ahead and eat one of the brownies, but your excitement over the other box deters him. He wants to see what has you so happy and anxious for him to see, so he opens the next box. His lips part and eyebrows raise in surprise for a few seconds when he sees the contents before he happily smiles at you.

“You made conchas! Heart-shaped conchas! You… I’ve never seen conchas shaped like this before, not even at the panaderia. When did you even bake them?” Miguel asks, staring at you with amazement before he lifts the box to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh conchas. His mouth waters even more, thinking about how good these will go with a mug of café de olla.

You chuckle softly, pleased with Miguel’s reaction. “Last night. Before you arrived from HQ. The cake and cookies were just a distraction so you wouldn’t see them and the brownies. I wanted to surprise everyone, including you. So, I recruited someone’s help,” you say with a soft shrug of your shoulders, prompting Lyla to appear.

“That would be me,” Lyla says with a soft grin, arms crossed over her chest. “I had to keep you busy, Miguel.”

Miguel scoffs playfully as he realizes and remembers the previous night. “That’s why you kept messing up the anomaly datasheet.”

“And why I kept moving your tabs around,” she replies, which makes Miguel frown for a few seconds.

“That, too. Not appreciated,” he mumbles.

“I had to do what I had to do, to ensure Y/N’s mission was a success, which it was,” Lyla says smiling.

Miguel shakes his head at her but he’s not even slightly upset. Instead, he’s highly amused that you recruited Lyla’s help to keep him occupied at HQ, all to surprise him with these lovely and delicious baked treats. His cheeks feel even more hot now.

“They smell amazing. I’m not even going to lie, my mouth is watering,” Miguel admits quietly as he nods to the conchas. “Thank you.”

“Always,” you reply softly. “I bet… They’d be really good with café de olla.”

Miguel grins. “Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like café de olla?”

You shrug. “I’m just saying, heart-shaped conchas and café de olla sound like a good combination to me. I think, it would be quite an experience. I mean, you’re saying you’ve never seen heart-shaped conchas before so… I was just thinking, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Miguel gives you a soft smirk before he grabs one of the conchas. You can’t help but notice how small it looks in his hand as he holds it up, as if showing it to you. “You were just thinking,” he says, still smirking, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you.

“It’s just a thought,” you reply, smiling softly. “Something to think about.”

“Definitely something to think about… which means you have more at home, yes?”

“There might be more conchas at the penthouse, yes.”

“I see,” he replies. “I guess cafeteria coffee will do for now.”

You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “For now?”

“There might be café de olla in the evening.”

“I see,” you reply with a smile.

“I hear it might be quite an experience.”

“I have to agree with whoever said that,” you say.

“You know, I do, too,” Miguel responds, still smirking softly at you.

Lyla hovers between the two of you, glancing from you to Miguel. “Great, so there’s gonna be conchas and café de olla,” she says.

You both turn to look at her. Right, Lyla is there.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” Miguel says as he places the concha back in the box, making sure to close it correctly.

“Alright. I’m going to go ahead and start on the report. There’s still so much to do,” you reply heading to the desk you always work on, the one that Miguel set up for you many months ago once you started helping him with the weekly reports.

“Sounds good. I’ll be back,” Miguel responds, placing his baked treats on his platform.

“Don’t worry Miguel, I’ll look after them,” Lyla jokes seeing how careful he has been with the boxes, as if they are precious to him. The teasing tone makes Miguel frown but he doesn’t respond as he heads out of the lab to grab coffee for the two of you.

_♡_

You sit in Miguel’s living room many hours later. The time on your tablet reads 7:16pm. Lamps lit up his space and the fireplace is on, warming the entire penthouse. Soft music coming from Miguel’s record player, the one you gifted him for Christmas several weeks ago, plays in the background.

You sit on one of the couches, a blanket over your legs as you work on the report from your tablet, the same one that Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You sit alone now since Miguel excused himself about twenty-five minutes ago, saying he needed to get something done. You didn’t ask what he had to do, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. You told him that you’d be in the living room. You only realized he was in the kitchen because you heard the opening and closing of drawers, but other than that, you have no idea what Miguel has been up to. Besides, you’ve been caught up working on the report, trying to finish it so it’s ready for scheduled meetings later this week.

You move your pen around your tablet’s screen, fixing something with a frown. Your concentration comes to a halt as a shadow covers the lighting. You look up, only to find Miguel carrying a tray that he sets on the console table that’s placed between the two long couches. It doesn’t take long before the lovely scent reaches you. Café de olla.

You glance at Miguel as soon as you recognize the scent, his crimson eyes meet yours and there’s a soft smile on his face.

“How about a break from the report?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor, clad in his lounge clothes.

You smile softly and nod, quickly placing the tablet away and joining him on the floor. It’s then that you see everything that’s on the tray.

He sets out the mugs with the hot and rich liquid, careful not to burn himself or you. He places three dessert plates out. One with brownies, another with conchas, and finally one with bimbuñuelos, a sugary pastry similar to the buñuelos you’ve had before, his personal addition to the sweets. You realize he bought them earlier when he arrived with a pastry box an hour later after you. You smile softly as you look at the sweets, finding it cute that everything is heart-shaped.

“So, there was café de olla,” you say, looking at him, still smiling.

“And there were more conchas,” Miguel replies as he hands you a clean plate to eat, smiling.

You chuckle softly before the two of you dig in, savoring the freshly made coffee and baked sweets in his dimly lit living room. Outside, Nueva York continues to have rain. Flashes of white lit up the sky every now and then due to lightning.

The two of you engage in conversation as you eat, enjoying each other’s company. And while you reply to something he said, a brief thought crosses his mind. This has turned out to be “quite an experience” as you said, but it isn’t because of café de olla or even the delicious heart-shaped conchas you baked that make him want to sigh in delight with each bite he takes. No, this evening has been “quite an experience” because of you alone. His close friend. His best…

Miguel grins at you as he focuses on your response, always wishing to give you his full attention, before he replies, continuing the conversation.

You take a drink from your mug, noticing a gentle but sudden flush on Miguel’s cheeks. Your gaze flickers to the fireplace for a second, unbeknownst to you that a certain realization of Miguel’s is the true culprit for the rosiness that now cover his cheeks.

♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡ Translation for Spanish words: Conchas - Mexican pan dulce, pastry; word translates to "seashell" because the pastry is kind of shaped like one Panaderia - bakery Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Bimbuñuelos - fried dough sprinkled with sugar; similar to buñuelos Buñuelos - fried dough fritter: typically a Christmas dessert _____ A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Miguel got me giggling and kicking my feet here! Why is he not real? Anyway, I had this little idea earlier in January and then @heyohalie asked me a while back how reader and Miguel from "Nonviolent Communication" would celebrate Valentine's (if they even did celebrate, since they're currently just friends), and I decided I needed to write it! So, here it is :) Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #nonviolent communication #miguel spiderverse #valentines day #soft Miguel O'Hara #soft!Miguel O'Hara

[daytaker]

Hello! I’ve viewed your blog a few times and i really really like the way that you write, so when I learned that asks were i couldn’t help but make a request. Can we get some headcaons of the brothers meeting MC’s family for the first time and already Mama MC doesn’t like any of them because “they took away her baby.” Sorry if this is a little cringe.

But of course!

(Part 2: The Dateables + Luke)

"Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends."

...is what you want to say, but you know better than to panic your parents and fluster your totally platonic demon friends at a time like this.

And what a time it is. Here you are, surrounded by your parents, an aunt, your grandpa, and your sister, trying to calm your mother down from yet another diatribe about how you can't just get up and leave for a year---I mean, God, the police were looking for you! The police! You realize we thought they'd find your body in the woods somewhere? How could you do this to us?!---when suddenly:

Knock, knock. Knock knock knock knock knock knock. Thud. Thud. Thud.

"MC! Hey MC!"

"Mammon, if they hear you, you'll ruin the surprise!"

You and your relatives stare at the door. Then they all look at you. You give an awkward smile.

"Just give me a minute... I think those are some friends of mine..."

You really wish you lived somewhere besides a one bedroom apartment, but honestly, impossible in this economy. So you don't have anywhere remotely private to tell the brothers to scatter until the dust clears. In fact, the instant you open the door, Asmodeus flings his arms around you and kisses you on the cheek---in full view of your family, mind you!---and Beel shoves a box of half-eaten chocolates into your hand. Then seven voices are all clamoring for your attention at once on one end, and another five behind you. There are thirteen individuals in this tiny apartment, you realize, and you don't even have enough seats for your family to all sit. Your sister's seated on the floor.

"Heyyyyy guys, now's....not a great time...." A smile is plastered to your face as you tip your head in the direction of your extremely concerned parents. "And...seriously? It hasn't been two weeks yet."

Mammon looks confused, then indignant. "What? ...Hey, what the hell? You're already makin' new friends?! We really that replaceable?!"

Lucifer, who stands in the back holding a balloon bouquet with a jarringly serious expression on his face, speaks up. "I believe those are MC's relatives, Mammon. It seems we came at an inopportune time after all."

"Relatives?!" Asmo and Mammon hurry on over to give them all a good look-over, the others curiously observing.

"You're MC's mom, aren't you! Oh, MC! I see where you get your cheekbones!" Asmo gushes as your mother stares at him like he's from another planet. Which he sort of is, in a sense.

"MC? Who are these people?" your grandpa asks with bewilderment and not a small amount of concern.

"They're, um..."

"They're hot." Your sister waves her fingers at the group, and you wish you had perma-died in that attic.

You need to explain yourself quickly. On the spot. You'd already told your family you'd had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and gone backpacking across the country for the year, working through the mental collapse that living in the 21st century inevitably caused, so you ride off of that. These are a ragtag bunch you met on the road, you explain. You'd spent the better part of last year roughing it from the hills of Kentucky to the forests of Washington with these guys, and you'd become incredibly close as a result. You'd lived together, laughed together, loved together, and some of them even tried to kill you on a few occasions.

("'Tried'?" mutters Satan, and Belphie gives him a death glare.)

Under the leadership of the charismatic eldest brother, Lucifer, you'd become so close that it felt as if your very souls were somehow tethered---

"I'm sorry, 'Lucifer'?" Your mom has had just about enough of this. She approaches you with a look of heartbreaking concern in her eyes and cups your face. "....Baby, did you join a cult?"

"Who does she think she is, callin' 'em that?" seethes Mammon under his breath.

"Mammon, she's my MOM."

"Alright, I think I've seen enough." Dad gets up and eyes the boys sternly. "I dunno what you've been doing with my child, but it's gonna stop, you understand? I've got a homicide detective on speed dial because of you clowns."

"Is this where they get their assertiveness from?" speculated Levi to Beel, who simply shrugged.

"Listen, I think you're all just...misunderstanding each other!" Son of Gardonus, where are you even supposed to start? You grab the nearest demon---

(Individual brothers are below the cut!)

Lucifer

"This is Lucifer."

He gives you a look that says 'you really are as stupid as I've sometimes feared'. Why didn't you come up with a fake name?

"That was a joke."

Good, things are still salvageable.

"Because following his instructions is a lot like being in Hell."

He hates you.

"If that's the devil, then call me a sinner," your aunt says, sipping her third glass of wine.

"His real name is Boris."

He hates you so much.

"Pretty well-dressed for a man who spent a year on the road," observes your Mom with undisguised distrust. "Let me guess: while you were out gathering food and panhandling to survive, he stayed indoors doing whatever the hell he felt like doing, and at the end of the day, you'd take everything you'd earned and hand it over to him, and he'd toss you some pittance in return."

"How does she know that?!" Mammon gasps.

You try explaining to your mom that there was no cult, but she hushes you remorselessly.

You beg Lucifer with your eyes not to kill your entire family please. It seems to work.

Mammon

"Mammon, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Mammon. Mammon, say hello."

"Hello. Agh! Dammit! You're really gonna use that now?!"

Oops. Pact magic. It can be a little unpredictable at times. You ruffle his hair apologetically.

The two of you were pretty much inseparable over the last year, you explain. "Best buds, pretty much." He was the first of the group you got close with. Mammon seems extremely proud of this.

"Please tell me 'best bud' isn't a euphemism, MC." Your dad gives you a pleading look. "I don't know how many more surprises I can take today." You two seem far too affectionate and touchy-feely for his liking.

Your sister grins at him from her seat on the floor, which seems to embarrass and confuse him tremendously. He's refusing to look at her. Poor guy. The two of you do look a lot alike...

Levi

"This is Levi."

"Ah, that almost sounds like a normal name. Why Leh-vee, though? Why don't you pronounce it LEE-vie?

"It's short for Leviathan," he says before you can stop him.

Your sister starts cackling and Levi is very embarrassed and indignant but mostly confused.

"Is this like a cult thing?" your aunt asks. "Naming everyone after biblical demons?" She nods and raises her eyebrows, impressed, and lifts her glass in Lucifer's direction.

"And you've been out roughing it in the great outdoors?" your grandpa asks.

"Errrr..."

"Yes, he has."

"Hmm...." Grandpa stares at Levi without a word, and your sister cackles again, and Levi looks like he'll either start bawling or go full demon and kill everybody in a sort of panicked rage. You return him to his brothers.

Satan

"This is---"

"I'm Derek. Nice to meet you."

You side-eye Satan. Apparently he was not taking any risks of you straight up calling him 'Satan' in front of everyone.

Your sister and aunt both look disappointed by this name, which seems to please Satan a whole lot.

"So," your mom says, thinking this little introduction has gotten off to way too friendly a start, "you're another one of MC's... 'friends', are you?"

"Yep," you say, refusing to acknowledge that there was any innuendo to read into.

"How the hell did you get wrapped up in a cult, Derek?" your aunt asks incredulously. "You look like you came straight from a prep school... Or the Ivies, or something. Kid, let me tell you what." She points a finger at Satan without giving him an opportunity to respond. "Let me tell you, you're gonna kick yourself when you're old and ugly and you realize you wasted your time in a cult looking like you were headed to a game of polo."

"You should've given yourself a cool name like those other guys," your sister throws in.

"Guys, please."

"What? At least the other guys had character. Lucifer, the sexy vampire prince, or something. Mammon, the... Is he a himbo or a bad boy?" ("A himbo," you confirm.) "Mammon, the hellish himbo! Leviathan, a literal fish out of water! But him? This guy's just Derek from IT." Your sister blows a raspberry and gives a thumb down. "Next."

Behind you, you hear Lucifer mutter, "Mammon. Levi. Hold Satan back."

Asmo

"This is Asmo. Please don't tear him a new one, he's---"

Your sister shakes her head. "I would NEVER. This guy looks like so much fun. Like, I'm getting shopping all day, clubbing all night vibes, am I right?"

Asmo winks at your sister, and she blushes. She blushes. You're in awe.

"Hellooooo~! I'm Asmodeus, and it's wonderful to meet you all!"

"You're the one that kissed my grandchild," Grandpa recalls, raising an accusatory finger at him.

"But MC loves when I give them kisses! Surely you all understand, right?"

....

"Right..."

....

Motherfucker, Asmo just charmed your family.

Beel

"This is Beel. Beel, this is...everyone."

"Hi. Good to meet you." Beel is very polite, if a bit uncomfortable.

"Well aren't you a drink of water and a half." You hate your aunt so much sometimes.

Beel frowns. "I'd rather have something a little more filling than water."

You see a look in your aunt's eyes and you jump before she has the chance to strike.

"If you say you're on the menu, Aunt Gina, I swear--"

"What's 'Beel' short for?" your mom asks sternly.

"Beelzebub," Beel answers with an adorable but also infuriating level of innocence.

Your sister is cackling again.

Belphie

Hey, where'd Belphie go?

You look around, confused.

Oh. He wandered to your room while everyone was distracted.

He's sleeping on your bed, hugging your pillow. And drooling on it.

Your relatives stand behind you, observing the scene somberly.

"What's he on?" asks your sister in a whisper. "Like... he's definitely on something, right?"

"Freeloader. That goes for the whole lot of 'em. At least this one is honest about it. Just walks in and treats the place like it's his." Your dad is very annoyed.

"He's got narcolepsy," you insist. You don't know enough about narcolepsy to be sure if that seems like a reasonable excuse, but you're counting on your family not knowing either.

"How the hell did you all get around with a narcoleptic?" your aunt asks, elbowing Lucifer in the ribs. "Hah! Oh, MC, sweetie, I need a refill."

When you manage to get the brothers out of your apartment, you turn around and face your family. They're staring at you.

Your sister breaks the silence. "So like... how many of them have you--?"

#obey me #ask response #anon #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me mc #obey me demon brothers #obey me human world #obey me swd #dthc #straddling between hc and fanfic #obey me fanfic #fanfic #lucifer #satan #mc #mammon #levi #asmo #beel #belphie #gn reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #family anon

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Little Bit More

25/12: Promise & Phone Sex - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) A/N: this exists in the Every Little Bit universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

He always knew it was coming around, and yet he always hated it.

Her dad’s birthday was in between Christmas and New Year, that weird time where you don’t know what day it is, never seem to have enough food in and where you’re so disorientated in the post-Christmas haze that it’s like coming down from a sugar high.

It was the few times of year where she went away by herself, wanting to spare Billy from the absolute torture of being around her parents for a few days as she made excuse after excuse as to why they weren’t married yet.

Not that he minded, there was only so much of her mum Billy could take.

He’d seen her off at the train station, her duffel bag looking very much as big as her in the cutest way possible as she skipped off to the platform in her winter overcoat and scarf, the chill nipping at her cheeks.

It was only a few days. It was only a few days. He had to keep reminding himself. 

Billy sighed, tapping the remote control against his knee, only half-watching whatever terrible Friday night tele graced his flat. The pizza box was closed shut on the coffee table, having tried to cheer himself up with a takeaway.

His phone buzzed, and he couldn't help the smile that rose to his face, seeing her name in bright white letters on the face of it.

She'd promised to ring 9 o’clock on the dot, after all.

“Hiya, ya alright?” he answered, his voice sounding perkier already, his muscles relaxing once he heard her voice.

“Hey, you sound happy”, she replied low down the phone, and he could tell she was smiling by the way she said it.

“I am now,” he grinned, “just finished a 12 inch on my own.”

She groaned over the line, “Billy.”

“I'm joking, it's because I've heard your voice again.”

“Better,” she laughed breathily, “what you up to? Other than missing me, of course.”

He sighs, “Being a sad cunt, staying in with a beer watching whatever shite is on Channel 4.”

“Ooh dear,” she says unenthusiastically, “sounds dull, babe.”

Billy hummed in agreement, “What about you? What you up to?”

It was her turn to sigh, “fuck all, really. Mum and Dad went to go and see Mum's mate Jill, you know Jill don't you?”

“Yes, babe.”

“Yeah, well they left at five and are yet to be back. Convinced she's got them tied up in the basement.”

Billy laughed through his nose, “That actually sounds better than what she might actually be doing, chatting their bloody ears off.”

“Poor buggers, eh,” she laughed, “so I'm sat here on my tod.”

“What a shame you've got me to talk to then.”

He could hear her smile, “could be worse. You missing me?”

The alcohol had offered him a kind of confidence, and he sucked his teeth, holding back a grin, “You could say that. Missing something anyway.”

He heard her mischievous tone even over the crackle of the phone.

“Are you now?”

The line went quiet for a while, before a notification buzzed and Billy turned her on loudspeaker for a moment as he pulled his phone from his ear to check.

…has sent an image.

With one flick of his thumb, his jaw dropped, the depths of his gut becoming tight and hot by the picture she'd sent him. It was her figure reflected in a mirror, wearing clearly nothing but a large t-shirt (his, he noted) and pulling the spare fabric to one side to show her curves as well as her pebbled nipples beneath it.

“Jesus..”

She giggled over the phone, “is that a good ‘jesus’?”

“I-fuck, yes…”

Another one arrived, with her pulling up the hem of her shirt over her hips and expanse of her stomach, just beneath the shadow of her breasts.

“Christ, babe, what are you doing to me?”

She hummed, “sorry, you said you were missing me.”

Billy sighed looking at the photos, every now and then closing his eyes to will the feeling of her skin onto his fingertips, the warmth of her, the sounds she'd make for him. 

His breathing grew shallow as he reached into his jeans, wrapping one hand around his length, to softly pump himself, already half-hard since the moment the first picture arrived.

“Are you enjoying them?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Mmhm..” he murmured.

Another few arrived, in various stages. One where the shirt was fully over her breasts, one where she was wearing nothing at all leaning back to show her full naked torso, and one sat on the bed, the lines appearing where her hips met her thighs.

“Oh fuck…”

Over the phone, she could hear the clinking of his belt as he pleasured himself, “are you touching yourself, baby?”

He could only make a sound in confirmation, his throat closing as he fisted himself to the photos of her.

She sighed, as if her touching herself was expelling a deeply rooted desire, her hands sliding between her legs, the other holding the phone to her ear, “Mm…wish you were here…”

“-ffuck-me too, baby-”

His strained voice was enough to coax some slick between her fingers, using it to pleasure herself, laid back on the bed.

“are you on the sofa?...”

He swallowed, breathlessly replying, “yeah..”

“Do you remember before I left…” she started, and the memory nearly made Billy dizzy.

He was sat right where he is right now, legs apart to accommodate her kneeling there. She'd been annoyed that he was playing Xbox, and so, in an effort to make him lose his game, had knelt in front of him, pulled his sweatpants over his hips and eagerly took his length between her lips.

She'd gotten what she wanted. Before long, his controller was long forgotten and instead, his fingers were threaded through her hair, guiding her pace on him.

He can feel his stomach tightening at the memory of the sensation.

“Do you remember, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Hm..” she hummed, over the phone, while in her own bed began to hasten the pace of her self-pleasure.

"If I were there...do you know what I'd do?"

"What..." he breathed, his hold on his phone so tight without realising.

"I'd get up...off my knees...on top of you..." she muses, sighing at the feeling herself beginning to crest, "...maybe tease you a bit..."

"Fuck-no, baby, don't tease me-"

She let out a breathy laugh, "but why not? It's so much fun."

Her hips canted towards her own touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she held the phone loosely as the pressure tightened in her gut.

"What would you do, baby? If I was right there on top of you..."

His voice came strained, every stroke of his length in his fist drawing him close to fulfilment.

"I would - I'd fuckin' pull you down..."

She could tell he was close by the tone of his voice, and she bit back a smile, knowing he was much too far gone to even form a coherent thought.

"I'd let you fuck me...right there...be your little fuck toy..." She mused in a sort of whisper, "...you could cum inside me...as many times as you want, baby..."

Billy's lips parted, not even realising how his movements had become rapid, needy and quick.

"Oh fuck-"

On the other side she was close herself, and then she heard the prompt and pulled the phone away from her ear to see a request to switch to video call. She accepted without thinking and felt her gut twist at what she saw.

His jeans were pushed around his zipper barely, only enough to free his cock as he pumped it quickly. She was entranced as Billy pleasured himself in real time, her face growing warm at the effect she'd clearly had on him.

And then she heard it, a long shuddered whimper of her name, followed by, "Oh baby-"

She felt her thighs tremble as she came, warmth rushing beneath her hips and a tingling sensation rushing from her toes all the way up her spine, as Billy groaned deeply and spilled all over his fingers for her to see.

Her hand has slowed, overstimulation gnawing as she touched herself with Billy's languid thrusts into his hand continuing to pull a deep arousal from her.

Over the video she heard his laboured breaths, gulping for air.

When the video turned off she smiled tiredly and pulled her phone back to her ear, hearing his tired, exhausted voice.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed. She could imagine him, all spent and limp on the sofa, and the thought made her smirk and press her thighs together with want.

"Mm, you're telling me. Do you feel better now?" She asked demurely.

"Fuck you," he teased, "fuck, I can't wait for you to get back..."

She gave a short laugh, "Oh yeah? What you gonna do when I am?"

He was quiet for so long she wondered if he'd heard her, her brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted to ask him if he was still there.

But realistically, on the other end, a wide smile graced his face, his blue eyes all aglimmer with mischief.

And what he said had the power to shut her right up. Excitement made her stomach flip, wondering what version of Billy she seems to have unleashed. Gone was the shy, unconfident Billy she'd found. Her efforts in getting him to...unwind somewhat shocking even her.

"How did you put it, hm?" he laughed, with a smile so bright like he'd just opened a present, "My little fuck toy?"

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington fanfic #billy washington smut #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x you #billy washington x fem!reader #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #trigger point billy washington #billy washington trigger point #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #12daysofsmuff

[slvthrs]

ALL THE THINGS WE MEANT TO SAY | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

one stupid red hoodie makes it impossible for you to do anything and the only thing you can do is try to give it back

OLD BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, ANGSTY, + some fluff, sex, making out, grinding, oral (f receiving) praise kink, cheating, they're both not the best people but they're in love

word count: 4.7k <3

This dumb fucking hoodie.

I don’t know what to do with it. 

I’ve had it for a week now and it’s been sitting on my desk, folded perfectly and untouched.  The red on it is slightly faded and cat hair covers it instead of dog now but it still is the same crewneck that I loved on Vinnie and the same one I would wear every time I slept over at his.

But now I can’t even touch it. It smelt like him, it felt like him, it was just so Vinnie and it was too much for me.

3 days I spent trying to just ignore it despite everything my friends said, also trying to ignore Vinnie’s calls and texts.

And now I’ve spent 2 hours on a call with my best friend, Bowie, debating what to do with that stupid hoodie.

“I swear to god just get rid of it, burn it, rip it to shreds I don’t know babe just do something to get rid of it.” Bowie argues

She’s always been better at relationships than me. To the point that she and her girlfriend were planning for their one year anniversary in 2 weeks while I was her worried about a boy I haven’t seen in years.

“I can’t get rid of it, Bow.” I sigh

“Oh c’mon! Vinnie slept with you and literally RAN away the next day and refused to talk to you for 3 years, PLUS he has a girlfriend… you know you deserve better!”

“I know, you're right but I just can’t Bowie, I’m sorry.”

“Why,” She exclaims, “What is so special about this stupid hoodie and Vinnie?”

…

“I actually think I’m gonna die, Mom please hurry up.” I sigh, clutching my stomach.

We’ve been on the road for 5 hours now and we haven’t taken a single bathroom brake since we couldn’t spot a gas station but my bladder was screaming at me

“You're so dramatic, y'know that right?” Vinnie quips from the seat next to me causing me to throw my bag at his chest.

He’s sitting with his headphones in, playing some game on his console with the light from the window shining on the side of his face illuminating his side profile so perfectly. 

The pain in my stomach doesn’t stop and I bend forward resting my head against the seat in front of me with my hands holding my stomach tight.

I feel a hand rubbing on my back and I realize it’s Vinnie trying to help and then suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and everything just clicks.

I’m on my fucking period. 

“Mom,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Please tell me you found a bathroom, I’m pretty sure I just got my goddamn period.”

She tries to reassure me and turns into a parking lot while Vinnie keeps rubbing my back and offers me food to which I throw it at his face.

We finally get to a run down bath station which I run into with everything I need and I’m able to clean up but there's still a huge stain in my pants and for some reason I feel tears well up in my eyes and I just sit on the point seat for about 5 minutes until I finally force myself to wipe my tears and get up.

I walk back to the car but I hear a voice shouting at me from behind.

“Hey wait up!” It’s Vinnies, he’s holding a bag with snacks and a hoodie in his right hand, leaving the shop nearby. 

“Take this, it’ll cover your pants up, plus it’s a Washington sweatshirt, and your favorite color!”

It’s a pretty red with white letters spelling out our state. It’s too big for me, most probably Vinnie’s size. 

It’s cute. 

He helps me wrap the sweatshirt around my waist and walks with my back to the car right next to me.

We settle back into our seats and thank god that no blood spilled onto the car seat.

With all the bags and the fact that we were in the back with the rest of our families in the front plus Vinnie basically grew a foot over the year, we were crammed together in the back seats with our legs hitting the others and our shoulders touching.

I end up plugging my headphones in and listening to music while staring outside the window, looking at the trees and the sky trying to take in nature but not even 30 minutes in and my stomach hurts again.

I try to hold it but Vinnie realizes and dumps the plastic bag of all the stuff he brought on my lap.

I look into it and I see chocolate, all my favorite candy and snacks, bottles of my favorite soda and medicine in there. 

He didn’t buy anything for himself, he only bought stuff for me.

“Thank you Vin.” But my voice comes out no louder than a whisper.

“Eh, don't sweat it, you're awful on your period.” He laughs and I punch him in the shoulder.

“Asshole.” I mutter.

I end up falling asleep with my head on his shoulder listening to Ivy by Frank Ocean.

I never forgot that roadtrip; it was 2 years before Vinnie left for LA.

…

“You just don’t get it Bow, I can’t get rid of it!” I reiterate.

The phone call goes silent as I droop against my head board sighing. 

My eyes roam back to the hoodie again.

I should give it back to him.

“What if I give it back to him?” I mutter to Bowie

“Babe no,” She continues, “You're using this as an excuse to go see him and it’s not gonna end up well.”

“But Bow-” I try to reason with her but she cuts me off.

“C’mon, we both know you shouldn’t go see him.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll call you tomorrow; Love you.” I tell her

“I love you too, get some rest.” And she ends the call

I lay down on my bed staring back up at the ceiling. 

Bowie is right, I’m just trying to make an excuse to see Vinnie and he probably doesn’t even want the hoodie back.

My mind goes blank as I stare up at the wall.

Bowie is right.

But I rarely ever do what’s right.

I get up and grab the hoodie, the bag it came with along with my phone and car keys and walk down to the parking lot and before I realize it I’m punching in the code to Vinnie’s house I got from Harvey into the GPS and driving off.

The road is wet from the rain which happens once in a blue moon and there is a surprisingly few number of cars on the road for this city but I try to look at that as a positive.

I try to put some music on and it auto plays to ‘White Ferrari’ by Frank Ocean and suddenly I remember this is an awful idea.

What if he’s home with Allison?

What if he doesn’t wanna see me?

What if he refuses to take the hoodie back?

What if I make a fool of myself?

Panic racks up in my brain and thousands of ‘what ifs’ terrify me. Just the thought of Vinnie not wanting to see me makes me wanna drive my car off a bridge but I try to push every negative thought away.

I skip the next few songs until my phone lands on “Black Beauty” by Lana Del Rey. 

Every single day after Vinnie got his license we would blast this song, screaming the lyrics and staying out until our parents would call us home.

He loved to drive and I loved just sitting there in his presence, not even talking just being there with each other, it was our favorite thing to do together.

Now I have to drive myself everywhere in a black Honda Civic. 

…

“This car is actually fucked you don’t get it like everything about it is broke what the hell did my dad make me fix this shit? I fucking hate Hondas.” Vinnie whines, he loves fixing cars but still always drags me to sit there and watch him do it whilst I text my friends.

The dust and oil lay cover his face whilst he sits there with black gloves and poking and prodding under the hood of the car.

“Oh c’mon are you even listening to me?” 

“Yes yes I promise! And why don’t you just tell your dad you can’t fix this car?” I tilt my head to the side practically begging to finish this up.

“No, I’m gonna finish this and then we’re going out for ice cream.” He says with his chest puffed like it’s an amazing, unthinkable plan.

“Whatever Hacker, at least this car is cool.” I say sliding my hand across the shine of the black.

“It’s not. You just like every black car.” He shrugs but he’s right, I love black cars.

“Hey when we grow up I’ll buy you a black JDM so we can match.” He huff’s and I can feel a smile tugging the corners of my lips.

“We both know I’ll be the one making enough money to buy a car.” 

“Whatever, as long as I get to drive you around in it.” He replies

I smile to myself imagining Vinnie and I when we were old still doing the same things we did as kids, driving and smoking until the sun comes up.

A familiar feeling in my stomach rises as we return to doing our own thing and I return to texting on my phone.

“Who have you been texting so much anyways?” He asks about 10 minutes putting some random tool down and picking up another

“No one Vin, it’s just that guy from that skate shop, he’s actually kinda cool I think you would like him!”

“Oh.” He replies in that voice he gets when he tries to not get mad

“Yeah! He asked me to go on a date with him to a skatepark.” I reply beaming.

“You're joking right? I ask you to go every week but you never do,” He reminds me whilst twisting something inside the car, “ But you’ll go with the sketchy guy from a skate park who always smells like weed and let me remind you, I’m literally a better skater than he is!”

“Dude it’s not that serious it’s just some dumb date!” I raise my voice at him but I don’t even understand why

“Fuck fine whatever just don’t come back crying when the date goes horribly with that guy.” He retorts staring dagger in my direction

“Whatever, I'm not gonna come back crying and you're just being a dick cause no one wants to go out with you.” I walk off when I finish leaving Vinnie in his dad’s garage.

Vinnie was right however, the date went terribly that night. He picked me up an hour late and all we did was smoke and walk around and when I wanted to leave he got pissed I didn’t hook up with him.

I ended up walking by foot to Vinnie’s house and ended up spending the rest of the evening crying into Vinnie’s familiar red Washington crewneck.

That was 3 weeks before Vinnie left for LA.

…

The drive feels like it’s going so slow. 

My mind is so scattered that I keep zoning out until the robotic voice of the GPS snaps me out of my self induced trance. 

The closer I get to Vinnie’s house the harder it gets to breathe and the more my mind keeps disassociating. 

My eye’s keep getting foggy and I start getting scared that I shouldn’t be driving in this condition.

I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots.

It’s dry, I need to put oil in it.

I watch as the lights flash from red to green and watch as the trees sway due to the rain, watching stray’s scatter across the road’s and how my windshield wipers turn from one side to another trying to flick all the water droplets off.

The more breaths I take, the shallower they get before I finally decide to pull over on the side of the road.

My head falls against the wheel as I try to relax, forcing myself to take slow deep breaths, in through my nose and out of my mouth.

But I jolt my head back up as I get a call, grabbing my phone and picking it up, praying it’s not Bowie.

“Hello?” I whisper into my phone

“Jesus, Y/n where the fuck are you?” Vinnie replies back at me

“Vinnie? What the hell are you talking about?” My voice rises

“Outside your house, I’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes, where are you?” I can hear the rain pattering on the other side of the call. 

“Fuck, I have a key under my doormate, I was just…out.” I half-lie.

“Just get here okay?” His voice is softer now and I can hear him unlock my door and walk in, ending the call.

What the fuck.

What is Vinnie doing at my house?

How does he even know where I live?

A thousand questions race through my head as I take my car out of park and turn it to drive back to my house, pressing on the gas and driving as fast as I can. 

I arrive back there in about fifteen minutes and as I pull my car into the parking spot I suddenly become very aware of what I left the house wearing.

It was my black bralette and a pair of low rise sweats and I slammed my head against my wheel again.

I’m not going to see Vinnie in this yet there's nothing in my car to cover me up.

I mentally swear at myself for not thinking ahead enough cause even if I got to Vinnie’s house was I really gonna walk in wearing just a bralette and sweats?

The only thing in this car, besides me, is that red hoodie sitting right next to me, basically taunting me.

The stupid hoodie I tried to ignore for a week, sitting there, being my only option- it was like karma.

I slip the hoodie over my head as the neckline dangles over my shoulder. The sleeves are far too big and threads are coming loose. But one thing is most noticeably different, it’s scent. 

What used to be old Axe body spray mixed with sweat, weed and dog smell, is now Dior cologne, teakwood, with smoke but with something else. 

It’s pretty lavender and the essence of pineapple- Allison’s scent.

He gave our hoodie to her.

The hoodie he gave me he gave her.

I take a second to breathe again, letting the cool air enter my body and try to cool me off in the process.

I get so entranced in the hoodie that I nearly forget I’m supposed inside with Vinnie.

I slip out of the car and ever so slightly push down the handle walking into my own home with heavy steps, far too upset to try to be quiet.

I slip past the shoe rack and through the mirror and art littering my house. 

Barely any lights are on and I can smell coffee from the morning and smoke from earlier in the day as I walk into my living room.

And there he is.

The same guy who left me days after he turned 18, after everything. He’s just sitting on my couch.

His head is tipped back with his hair damp from the rainwater, his legs are spread apart as he has his phone in his right hand whilst his left is fidgeting and picking at the skin surrounding his thumb. It was always his dumb tick that he did when he was stressed and I can’t help but feel worried.

“Vinnie.” I breathe out so desperately it sounds like a prayer

He stands up so fast he nearly loses his balance and he walks over to me in quick, hurried strides as he catches his balance like a baby giraffe running to its mother.

“Fuck I didn’t realise you arrived.” His voice is no louder than mine.

“Why wouldn’t I, Hacker?” His last name is all I can bear to muster to his face, “It is my home isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He stops and breathes,”Hey, you're wearing the hoodie.”

A smile bleeds onto his face and a light blush quickly accompanies it.

“Yeah all my other hoodies were in the wash.”

And the smile fades away.

“Oh, of course.” He stops for a second, “But um, where were you?”

“It’s funny actually I was on my way to your house.” I chuckle to myself avoiding eye contact with Vinnie but he doesn't laugh.

He steps closer to me and now he’s towering right above me

“Why were you coming to my house?” He asks, his eyebrows knit together, looking at me confused.

His hands gently pull my chin up so I can look at him and for a second he looks like the same guy I fell in love with for the first time.

But I pull away, it’s not the same. 

It’s never going to be the same again.

“I wanted to give you your hoodie back.” I say looking away from him

“But it’s not mine… I gave it you to keep-” I cut him off

“I don’t care Vinnie, you have a girlfriend, I haven’t seen you in 3 years I didn’t want your stupid hoodie asshole, I wanted you.” 

I say the last part before I realize what I just said with shaky eyes and a stuttered breath.

Everything goes quiet, we don’t say a word, we don’t even move. The only sound in my house is the dripping of my broken sink and the brushing of the plants across the wall.

“Fine.”

“What?” 

“Fine, give me the hoodie. It’s what you wanted to do anyways.”

Is he fucking serious right now?

“Sure whatever.” I grit through my teeth

I pull the plush of the hoodie off letting it settle in my hands before passing it back to Vinnie and then bringing my hands back up to my chest trying to cover myself up.

He takes the hoodies and holds it in his hand whilst his eyes rake over my body, going over the curves, watching as my skin ebbs and flows from my bralette into my sweatpants and as my hair sits, flowing over my shoulder like I’m the prettiest thing in the world.

“Allison.” I spit out like venom, a lot meaner than I intended, trying to catch Vinnie’s attention again.

“Huh?” He asks, his tone bleeding with disinterest

“Your girlfriend… remember?” 

“Right.” Yet he still doesn’t look away from me. 

His eyes rake all over my body watching, trying to memorize everything that has changed over the past 3 years. He’s trying to take everything in.

“You should leave Vin.” I say trying to stay stern

“Sure,” He shrugs off before he snaps out of his trance, “Wait what?”

He’s making this all so hard, I try so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand up and causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

I try to pretend I’m not talking to Vinnie.

“I said you should go Hacker.”

“Wait, why?” He asks with that glint in his eyes.

It’s such a dumb question and we both know the answer to it but Vinnie tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t know why.

“Cause I’m trying to be strong for both of us, Vinnie.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is so quiet as he steps closer to me, his hand resting on my forearm whilst his other one holds on to the hoodie that got me in this circumstance in the first place

It takes me so much strength to not lean into his touch.

“You have a girlfriend.” I breathe out, looking right at him.

“I have a girlfriend.” He repeats but his tone is so much more soothing.

“We’re gonna fuck everything up.” I say and get a familiar feeling of deja vu

“We might fuck everything up,” He stops for a second, “But how could we fuck things up even more?”

He’s right.

This relationship is already doomed.

His eyes flick down to my lips and suddenly my hands are looped around his neck with our lips pressed together, his hands trails down my waist and he grabs both my legs, hooking them around his waist.

Our lips push against each other whilst my hands pull and tug in his hair, they trail down his face and I push them under his shirt.

He swipes his tongue across the bottom of my lip and his grasp on my thighs causing me to moan into the kiss, letting the kiss grow deeper and letting both of us gasping and moaning into each other's mouths, afraid that the moment would end.

We end up falling on to my couch, him towering over placing sweet kisses all over my neck and trailing down farther, trying to make up for the years we spent apart.

The kisses quickly turn into love bits and his roaming hands quickly start taking off the clothes we have on, my bralette falls onto the floor and Vinnie’s shirt is thrown over the armrest.

Gushes of cold air fly through my window and both tighten our grasps on each other in a futile attempt to cool us down, his hips grinding over my cunt and my nails dig into his back to try to get closer to him.

His hips are so unbearably slow whilst his lips are so fast and his hands play a tantalizing game scratching, clawing, and massaging the plush of my skin.

His lips are so chapped but they still feel nice, in between mine as he slipped his tongue in between the warmth of my lips.

I need to buy him chapstick

“Fuck I missed you so much.” He moans into my lips as his hands fall down in between my thighs and his hands slowly undo the knot and pull my pants along with my underwear off leaving my fully exposed under him as he dips his head below.

Faint kisses are placed all over my lower stomach and as they get closer to the inside of my thighs they turn into bites and my airy gasps turn into echoey moans as they bounce around my house coating the walls as my chest heaves up and down and my hands flow along the curves of his shoulder, tracing the muscles there.

“So pretty,” He heaves out, “So so fucking pretty.” His tongue lapped at my cunt, focusing on my clit whilst my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

My legs contorted as my right hand pulled and yanked in his hair whilst my left clawed through his back gaining a hiss from the blonde under me.

It didn’t take long before I came into his mouth with him sucking at my clit and vulgar moans and curse fell through my lips.

He lifted his head up back to see me and I could see the lower side of his face glistening whilst his eyes had darkened with lust to the point the faint brown looked like pools of rich obsidian ink.

He heaved above me before diving back into attacking my neck and lips and my hands returned around his neck.

“Fuck Vinnie,” It slips from my lips whilst his neck is sucking beautiful amethyst marks onto my neck, “God where did you learn how to do that.”

“Oh shut up.” He laughs continuing kissing me all over whilst his finger slowly and tantalizing play with my already swollen cunt.

My hands trail down his chest, feeling my hands go over his muscles reaching to the base of his pants I tug at the belt, whining, asking for permission to take them off.

“Please Vin.”

He laughs, “Please what baby?”

“Fuck me please.” I ask undoing his buckle and try to pull his belt off, right before he stops me, his hands grabbing mine.

“Jesus, were you always this bossy when we were kids?” His eyebrow quirks up, “Ask nicely.”

It’s a command that sends a shiver down my spin and I relax into his touch.

“Please.”

“Do you know what 'nicely' means?” He teases

“Vinnie, please.” I whine, looking up at him through my lashes and I watch as he breaks above me.

Years could go by and I will always know what’ll break him.

“I hate you.” He whispers onto my lips and pulls his pants down.

When he finally starts fucking me it takes me a second to get re-used to his size but when he finally starts thrusting into me I hide my head into his neck to try and subdue my voice.

My legs wrapped around his waist as my hands marked his back with red lines.

He sped up his pace and I arched into his touch, my heart was pounding in my chest and Vinnie wasn’t giving me a break. 

He held me down by my hips and as I looked up at him I could see his eyebrows knitted together, looking as if he was focusing on making me feel good. 

My hands laced their fingers together behind his head as I looked back into his eyes staring at him.

We stayed like that for a bit right before he dipped his head down kissing along my chest and placing kisses along my tits, covering them in marks and bites, sucking hickies all over them and marking them up.

His kisses moved upwards towards my neck and ear and he placed more kisses along my neck and bit my earlobe whimpering and moaning, making sure I could hear how easily and quickly he fell apart for me.

As we both got closer to our ends his pace became relentless, slamming into me, hooking my leg over his shoulder to get a  better anger and more illicit, pornographic moans to fall from my lips.

When he finally came in me, he fell on top of me and we both breathed out trying to catch our breaths.

We stayed there for a bit to try to cool down.

He ended up cleaning me up and we just lay there on my sofa, my body swung over his as my head lay on his chest.

I trace his tattoos with my nails listening to his heartbeat and the sounds of satisfaction he makes whenever I scratch certain spots.

His hands trace my back ever so slowly whilst his other one lies behind his head, propping him up.

The room had quickly gone from being filled with moans of ecstasy and the sound of skin coming together to my voice humming and Vinnie breathing ever so gently.

We don’t say a word to each other but look up and his hand pushes away the hair on my face and lifts my chin up so he can place a gentle kiss on my lips.

We just stay in the kiss looking into each other's eyes and I truly let myself believe that we could be together.

I imagine us back home in Seattle, just us. 

Everything’s the same. Ponchos sitting on his bed with his head in my lap. Vinnie’s playing some new game that just came out. 

And he never left for LA.

He never left me.

I let myself forget for a moment and convinced myself that I didn’t just sleep with the man who left me all alone but rather I slept with the man that I truly thought I was going to end up marrying when I was a young girl.

I let myself forget.

But before we can deepen the kiss Vinnie’s phone buzzes and when he picks it up he sees her name.

Allison.

And without another word Vinnie puts on his clothes and leaves me there.

All over again.

But this time Inew what would happen but I still did it.

I lie there in my underwear staring at the ceiling and turn my gaze to the floor.

He left the red hoodie.

At this point I have no shame, I pick it up and slip it over my head and it smells so different.

It smells of sweat, mistakes, and all the things we meant to say.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie x reader fluff #bella's full works #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie x reader angst #vinnie hacker x reader angst

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

May I request something with Ms. Ashley Sanchez please? I’ll take anything

most annoying person ever [a.sanchez x reader]

prompt: ashley claims to hate you, but one day the lines blur.

author notes: my first angst-y type fic and i felt it fits ashley so well. two people asked for ash so i had to give it. hope y'all enjoy!

you and ashley are absolute rivals. on the pitch with ashley playing for the spirit and you for the thorns. even off the pitch, she can't seem to stand you. the way you speak, act, and hold yourself just irritates her. you consider those feelings to be mutual. the way the blonde talks with such a chill tone that felt so condescending, her aura of being nonchalant, and how she knew every button to push to make you feel like pulling out your hair.

absolutely insufferable, that's what you consider eachother. even with you both being on the national team, that hatred lingers between you two. sometimes sinking into whatever room y'all are in like a poison; it couldn't be helped with ashley and you being too stubborn to get over whatever problem y'all have with eachother. unfortunately, you two have the same group of friends so there is no avoiding eachother when you are in washington d.c. for the off season.

good thing there is a thin line between love and hate that is always close to being crossed every time you two are together.

you sit comfortably on trinity's couch as you watch some vlogger on the tv. the sound of the front door opening makes you perk up, thinking it's trin who is at the store buying snacks for tonight's movie night. "did you get the chips i wanted?" you say, not even bothering to look at the door.

"why would i do that?" the nonchalant voice of ashley says as she drops her keys on the dining table. walking past it to come sit down on the farthest part of the couch from you. the frown that creeps up on your face is quick. "i thought you were trin. why would i even ask you for something like that?" you glare at her. the blonde just roll hers eyes, leaning back on the couch pillows.

ashley looks so good today. with the blonde of her hair highlighting all the sharp features of her face. her crop top showcasing her abs and her legs looking alittle too good in those shorts. it pisses you off.

"so trinity is your servant now? you could had gone and bought your own chips," she says sharply. smiling once she hears you groan in irritation; seeing you get all bothered just satisfies something in her. "never said that. i don't see everyone else below me like you do" you snap back.

"that's how i know you're dumb because you know i don't think like that"

"do i really? don't act like i remember details about you" you say before ignoring her presence. trying to focus your attention on whatever the vlogger on the tv was saying. something about what she's cooking, you could honestly care less. you just wanted to see ashley's reaction to your words. the american player just has the same indifferent expression she always seem to hold on her face when she's around you, choosing to remain silent. that pisses you off even more.

you two just sit in silence with you watching tv (glancing at ashley) and ashley scrolling on instagram (looking at your story).

later on that afternoon, trinity comes back with the snacks. with you getting the chips you wanted.

the other girls in trin, ash, and you's friendgroup show up for the movie night too. with alyssa and savannah showing up right after trinity than sophia.

now it was time for the best part of the night, setting up all the snacks and the living room to be all cozy for the night. alyssa and savannah are on blanket duty than sophia and trinity are on snack duty. leaving you and ashley to go get pillows out of the spare room for all of the blankets. despite the hatred between you two, y'all agree to go together.

"can you back the fuck up?" you grumble as you bend over the bed to grab some pillows in the far corner. ashley stands beside you, with her hip touching yours. she can't seem to hate how close you two are right now but tells herself the sight of you so angry is what makes it enjoyable. totally not the feeling of your skin against hers. "how about.. no," ashley leans over beside you to grab pillows. her hands glazing yours. her response is plain annoying. it's just so her and you totally can't stand anything about her. "i hate how i have to restrain myself from hurting you off the pitch," you mumble as you pull back from the corner. several pillows crowding your arms.

"you actually don't. i would love a reason to punch you, but i bet you would like that. with you being pathetic and stuff like that," she taunts as she pulls back as well. a bunch of pillows sitting in her arms too. "shut your mouth" you say before walking out of the room. stopping in the hall as you almost trip over whatever trinity forgot to clean in the hall.

"what if i don't? are you going to find a way to shut me up?" ashley says nonchalantly, teasing hanging in her tone. she pushes past you just enough that a few pillows fall out of your arms.

what a bitch.

it's long into the night when ashley and you even look at eachother again. the small friendgroup of you two's have been watching movies back to back. starting off with horror movies than eventually transitioning into kid movies once everyone got too scared to go down the hall by themselves.

soon enough, the only ones left awake are you two. with trinity and sophia knocked out on the couch, alyssa cuddled up with a pillow on the floor, and savannah sleeping on the corner of the couch.

ashley is the first one to look, sparing you a glance. you can feel her eyes on you but act oblivious. not giving her the satisfaction of your eyes meeting hers. of course ashley couldn't let that be. "what? you can't look at people now?" she scoots closer to you. it takes everything in you to not roll your eyes.

"not at you. we just watched some horror, wouldn't want to get scared again" you sass back. not even mentioning how ashley was closer to you than before. your heart beat starts to pick up as you move slightly closer to her too. just so you two wouldn't disturb the others with y'all's bickering or aleast that's what you think to yourself.

"oh please, you know you enjoy seeing my face" ashley moves close enough that you two's hands meet. you don't try to move away. "says who?" you finally turn your head to face her. she was way closer than you thought. you two's faces being close enough that y'all noses could bump against eachother.

"says the way your heart is beating right now, says the way you're looking at me. i know how you are"

"you don't even know me like you think"

"that's what you think?"

"that's what i know" you say as you resist the urge to look at ashley's lips. the blonde roll her eyes. knowing damn well in the back of her mind that she knows alittle too much about you. always telling herself it was so she can easily tease you every time y'all meet.

ashley's eyes glance down at your lips, "than you must be clueless because you don't know shit."

"shut your mouth"

"make me than since you couldn't wait to hurt me off the pitch. here's your opportunity"

that sentence is all it takes for you to lean forward and kiss her. ashley at first wants to pull away to keep up the facade of hating you, but she gives in. her hand going to hold onto the back of your neck. the kiss is rough with all tongue, the buildup of arguing and bickering to seem to push through it. the feeling of ashley's hand on your skin drives you crazy. ashley was just as addicted, chasing after you once you pull away. she stops once she realizes how that looks.

"could had bit my lip a bit more if you wanted to be violent like you said," she teases as she lets go of your neck. "shut the fuck up," you stand. grabbing a pillow and a blanket as you make a move to go down the hall. determined to go into trinity's room and forget this even happened (dream about it).

"out of kisses to give? you know how to shut me up now" ashley taunts as she watches you walk away from her. just leaning back onto the pillows on the floor once she sees you walk into trinity's room.

in the morning, you come out of trinity's room to the sight of everyone awake in the kitchen. trying to make breakfast, heavy on the trying part.

you let a soft yawn as you come up to the kitchen island. sitting down on a chair there. "what's for breakfast, chefs?" you say. your eyes look over the kitchen to find ashley in the fridge. you look away once sophia speaks, "eggs and bacon. alyssa wanted pancakes but that's too much effort for right now."

"no it's not! you and trin are just lazy" alyssa says as she comes around the kitchen island to sit beside you. "if you want them so bad than make them yourself" trinity turns around from the stove to wave her spatula at alyssa. the younger player just rolls her eyes, "i'm the youngest. that's not my job."

you laugh softly and shake your head in agreement. too tired to speak. savannah also agrees with alyssa.

trinity and sophia are quick to disagree. defending their case on why alyssa should be making the food herself if she wants something. during all this your eyes are still fixed on ashley who is now looking back at you. leaning on the fridge. the smug look on her face makes you want to slap her or maybe even something alittle less violent.

after the mild fight over breakfast, you all eat it happily in the living room. watching cartoons as y'all stuff y'all faces. it wasn't much later when everyone started to get ready to head out and go shopping. trinity was the first to be done so she went out the car first. one by one everyone was leaving the apartment until ashley and you were the only two left.

"you didn't have to run away, but i know it's hard being a coward" she says as she walks past you to get to the door. you're at the table near the door, putting things in your purse.

"you could had pulled me back but okay.." you snap back, finishing up with your purse before going to the door. with ashley leaving out of it first than you after. "you would had liked that, wouldn't you?" she says against your ear once you both are standing outside of the apartment door before walking ahead to the car. leaving you to not respond, your mind full of thoughts of the night before.

the hatred from years of arguing with ashley still hangs in the air as you get in the car behind her but it's something else in the air as you sit beside her in the back seat.

#ashley sanchez x reader #ashley sanchez #uswnt x reader #uswnt #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[thelukesalvez]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Hostage

Description: request: can you do an imagine where the reader is luke’s wife or girlfriend and she gets involved in a hostage situation at a bank and the bau is called in to help with the situation? thanks, i love your writing so much :)

 Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: hostage situation, gun violence, minor character death

“This came in just a few minutes ago from the Director,” Prentiss confirms.  With the click of a button on the remote, a local news station clip projects onto the screen behind her, illuminating the chaos underway. “There’s a situation downtown that he wants the BAU to take the lead on.”

With bewilderment on his face, a reporter stands in downtown Washington D.C., which was littered with law enforcement and a crowd of people. The headline across the bottom of the screen reads ‘Hostage situation underway at Capital One Bank’. 

Luke drops the pen he was holding, drawing attention from other members of the team as it clashes on the table in front of him.  

“Sorry,” he mumbled. The rest of the team averted their attention back to Prentiss, but Luke’s attention was halted in its tracks. Instinctively, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, quickly checking his messages under the table. He tries to remain calm and rational, but his stomach sinks when he realizes none of the messages were from you.  

Luke had been in a rush this morning, per usual. He was running around the house, scrambling for keys, wallet, coffee, his to-go bag, just in case. He only half listened as you told him the list of errands you had to run that morning, while simultaneously scarfing down a buttered bagel.  Whole foods, the post office, the bank–

Luke swallows dryly. You were okay, he tells himself. You were okay, you were okay, you were okay. He repeats the mantra in his head as he types out a quick, casual message.  

Did you make it to the bank this morning?

Luke forces himself to turn at least some of his attention back to the team, but keeps his phone unlocked and open to your text messages.   

“Local officers have invited us in,” Prentiss informs the group, she sets the remote down gently on the round table. “They’ve informed us of at least two armed man inside the bank, no contact or ransom demand has been made as of yet. Garcia is working to gain access to security footage of inside the bank as we speak.” 

The sounds of Garcia typing frantically on her laptop can be heard throughout the conference room as she works.  

Luke stares back down at his blank screen, waiting for text bubbles to appear, indicating that you were responding– alive and well.  But there’s nothing. Luke starts frantically tapping his foot, why weren’t you texting him back?

“Alvez?” Emily’s voice causes Luke’s head to snap up.   

Luke is quick to realize that the entire team is looking at him again as he sits anxiously in his seat, his phone still cradled in the palm of his hand. 

“Sorry,” he repeats. 

This time no one looks away. 

“What’s wrong?” Rossi asks, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry.” Luke says for the third time. He tries to explain while his brain races. “My wife… My wife told me she was running errands this morning, that she had to go to the bank–”  

The moment of silence feels like an eternity to Luke. 

“That’s our bank,” he motioned towards the screen, still playing news clips on the board. “Do you mind if I just give her a quick call?” He asks, holding his phone up. 

Prentiss nods. “Of course.”

Luke mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before jetting out of the conference room. He escapes into the hall before dialing you. Luke can feel his heart beating rapidly inside of his chest as the line waits to connect– but he’s sent straight to voicemail. 

Luke tries again. He’s not entirely sure why he expected a different outcome, but again, your cheery voice directing him to leave a message plays. This time he does. 

“Hey, it’s me. I just– I really need to hear from you right now.” Luke swallows the lump in his throat, realizing how dry his mouth felt. “Call me back, please. I love you.” He ends the call and turns his phone over in his hand a few times. You were okay, he tells himself again. 

“I– uh, couldn’t get ahold of her,” Luke states as he walks back into the conference room. He makes eye contact with Rossi, who’s gazing wearily back at him. “But I’m sure everything’s fine.” Luke says with as much confidence as he can gather. He’s not so sure he believes it himself. 

That’s when Luke notices how eerily quiet everyone else is. He glances around the room to see everyone else staring at the screen.  

Garcia had managed to tap into the security footage at the bank. Luke scans the image, his eyes immediately landing on the unsub.  He was a tall man, dressed in all black, strutting around the frame with a rifle.  He’s waving it wildly as he randomly lunges intimidatingly at one of the victims huddled on the floor.  There’s no sound to the video, but it looks like he’s shouting at them. 

Garcia suddenly lets out a gasp, her mouth falling open in unison. “No,” she whimpers, she tore her eyes away from the image on the screen to look at Luke. 

Everything inside of him goes numb when his eyes land on one of the hostages curled up on the ground, her knees tucked tightly into her chest, and her familiar looking hair shielding her face as she hangs her head low. There’s a tense silence in the room as Luke stands motionless near the door. Only his chest moved as he let out choppy, labored breaths.  

He could feel eyes on him as the rest of the team came to the same realization he and Garcia just had. You were inside the bank. 

“We are gonna get this guy,” Prentiss says hesitantly, like Luke might break just by her words. 

Luke just nods slowly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, even if he wanted to.    

“She’s going to be okay,” JJ closes the distance between her and him and places a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder.

Luke should say something. He can’t just keep nodding, but all he could think about right now was you, and the way he rushed out of the house in such a hurry this morning. He didn’t even kiss you goodbye– or tell you that he loved you. What if that was the last time he’d ever see you?

“We have to get to the scene,” Prentiss declares somberly. She eyes Luke cautiously, but the clock is ticking.  

JJ lifts her hand off Luke’s arm, leaving behind a cold spot that made him shiver. She follows Tara, Matt and Reid out of the conference room.   

Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia remain in the conference room with Luke.  

Prentiss clears her throat before speaking. “Luke, you know you can’t come with us on this one.”

His jaw tenses at her order and he finally breaks his silence. “Screw the protocol, Emily, there’s no way I’m staying back here.”

“Luke, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now,” Rossi says softly.  He stands up from his chair and looks at Luke sympathetically.  

“Don’t–” Luke whispers. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he blinks them back before sighing heavily. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of the victims’ families.”

Prentiss and Rossi both stare at Luke for a moment, neither one knowing what else to say.   

“Emily, please,” Luke sighs, he lets his shoulders fall slightly. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”  

She sighs heavily and she turns to face Rossi, like she’s looking to the more experienced profiler for advice. They exchange a mutual nod before she responds. “Look at me, Luke.”  His eyes meet hers. “You have to remain level headed and you have to follow my orders. Or I will take you off the case.”

Luke understands that Prentiss was legally bound to follow protocol. He wishes that rules and regulations could be pushed aside at times like this, but he nods in agreement. He would have to control his emotions in the field.  

Emily nods back in affirmation before offering him a sympathetic look. She outstretches her hand and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “If it’s personal for one of us, it’s personal for all of us.” She tells him, implying what Luke already knew: that they wouldn’t rest until this was all over. 

A variety of emotions flood through Luke’s mind as he rides in the back seat of one of the SUVs to the scene.  Luke shared the car with Tara, Matt, and Reid, but didn’t speak to any of them. Instead he stares directly out the tinted window, remaining silent during the entire duration of their trip. 

Spencer kept turning his head subtly towards Luke, in an attempt to gauge how he was doing. It was hard for him to see his friend suffering like this. Luke was generally the confident, reassuring one, but today he just looked broken.  

The prospect of losing you was all too consuming as he thought about the careless and threatening way the unsub had been waving his rifle around. He thought about how you had been huddled on the ground, curled up and hiding your face against your knees. He thought about how you were probably wondering where Luke was, and why he wasn’t there to protect you. 

Luke swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to blink back tears building pressure up behind his eyes.  

How could this be happening?

…

A round of loud pops rang loudly through the air.

“Everybody on the ground!” 

Confused by the sudden chaos around you, your eyes quickly shift towards the door. Two men in combat gear stand there, their faces covered by ski masks. It takes you a moment to realize that the things they were holding high above their heads were guns. Your stomach drops.

You crouch to the floor in an instant, hastily trying to gauge the situation. Your view is partially blocked by the bench in the middle of the bank, all you can hear is frightened cries and the sound of heavy boots trudging across the floor. You scoot out from behind the bench so that you could better see what was happening.  

Someone is talking with the men, probably a teller, you think. Their voices are angry and harsh. 

Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard. At first, you feel a wave of relief wash over you, thinking that law enforcement would be able to save you all soon enough. 

But then, you hear someone curse loudly then a pair of boots stride back to the counter.  

“Did you call 911?” One man asks. His voice is eerily calm. You watch as the teller shakes his head, terrified. The man laughs before raising his gun, shoving it near the teller. “Don’t lie to me!” He screams, causing you to jump. 

The teller continues to shake his head, sobbing and pleading now. You watch as the robber rips the mask off, displaying his face. He smirks evilly before spinning his rifle around and jabbing it into the teller’s face. You jump in shock as he falls to the floor, groaning in pain.    

Someone screams, another person sobs.  

Fear floods through your entire body upon realizing that these men weren’t leaving peacefully.  Now that their heist had been cut short, they weren’t going down without a fight. The heavy boots came closer and your eyes quickly became clouded with tears.  

Your eyes remain fixated on the floor, even after the footsteps stop right in front of you. 

“Get up,” the man orders. 

You do as you were told, trying your best to steady your shaking hands. Everyone else gets up too, as the other robber circulates the room repeating the same order. 

“Congratulations,” the man said menacingly. He lifts his gloved hand to trace the outline of your jaw. Your nostrils flare in response to his touch. “You’ve just been upgraded from background noise to hostages. Thanks to whoever called the cops.”

He motions for people to head towards the back corner of the bank. Once everyone is gathered around in a semicircle, (you counted eleven other hostages) the robbers bark more orders.

“Cell phones, now.”

People hurry to throw their phones towards the middle of the circle. You pull yours out, your heart sinking when you see an unopened message from Luke flash across your screen. 

‘Did you make it to the bank?’  

You wonder if the BAU had gotten wind about what was happening yet. You clutch your phone tightly before tossing it on the tiled floor with everyone else's.  

No one speaks, everyone just watches as the two men circulate around the room. You curl your knees into your chest, hugging them tightly. 

“You weren’t supposed to hurt anyone,” you hear the masked man whisper to the other. “You said we’d just take the money and go.”

“There’s cops outside, Diggy, we’re surrounded. The only way we’re getting out of here is a negotiation. Or if we shoot our way out.”

He strokes his beard lightly, another smirk washing over his face. “Now take that off,” he nods towards his partner’s mask. “Don’t matter much anymore if they see your face, does it?”

The man peels off his mask to reveal his young face. His features are furrowed, like he was concerned. “Cops have protocols they have to follow,” he says to the bearded man. “They won’t just barge in here unless you hurt anyone, so cool it. We can figure this out.”

Just then, the phone starts ringing.  

The older man answers, “What?” he barked. 

You hear muffled voices on the other end of the line.  

“Oh yeah?” He said mockingly, “And what can you do for me, SSA David Rossi of the BAU?”

You let out a shaky breath upon hearing the name of your husband’s coworker. The BAU had been invited in– which meant Luke knew. You wonder if he was outside, too. 

It makes your chest ache to know there was such a small barrier between you and his safe arms.   

“I’ll tell you what I need, I need a way out of here, or else people are going to get hurt.”

You hear Rossi’s muffled voice on the other end of the line again, no doubt using his profiling skills to help defuse the situation. You see the man’s brows slide into a firm line, like he’s thinking hard about something Rossi’s said. But in an instant his face contorts into an angry scowl and he clenches his rifle tighter. 

“Get me a way out of here or they die,” he snarls, before hanging up the phone. 

The man walks back over to the group of hostages with malice in his eyes. He scans the faces of people before landing on a scared woman, looking to be in her early 30’s. He bends over and wraps his hand around her arm, hoisting her up on her feet. 

“No,” she pleads, tears streaming rapidly down her face. “Please, no,” she sobs. 

“Shut up,” the man yells, lifting his gun tauntingly, before dragging her from the group.  

“What are you doing?” you can’t believe you were speaking, you even startle yourself with your words. 

But he doesn’t even turn around– doesn’t even acknowledge that you had protested.  

He pulls her towards the end of one of the teller stations and scribbles something down on a piece of paper. The woman stands by, shaking terribly in her shoes. When the man stops writing he hands her the note. 

“Take this to the cops,” he orders. 

“W-what?”

“Take this to the cops,” he repeats, slower this time. 

She nods, her trembling hands accepting the note. 

…

“Guys–” Tara says. 

The team turns to face where her attention was focused. The front doors of the bank were opening.  

Luke hurries to unholster his gun, his shaky hands gripping the handle as he and every other cop in the area draws their weapons. 

Confusion washes over him as a woman exits the bank, her hands above her head. 

“Please,” she sobs.  

SWAT rushes over to escort the woman to safety.  

“He told me to give you this,” she cries, handing a note over to the SWAT member.  

Prentiss rushes over to take the note, reading aloud the demands.

“Two million dollars and an escape plan. Every 30 minutes you keep me waiting, someone will die.”

The knot in Luke’s stomach tightens. 

…

“Tick tock,” the bearded robber states as he struts around the interior of the bank. The younger man had been quietly sitting on the bench, staring at his shoes for the last few minutes or so. 

The robber picks up the phone, dialing the number that had previously reached out. 

“Is this Rossi?” he snarls into the line. “It’s almost been thirty minutes.”

You watch as the robber converses with Rossi. You’re wondering what he’s saying. 

“You just got someone killed.” He hangs the phone up harshly before taking a deep breath, staring at the clock on the wall. 

“And thirty.” The robber made his way back over to the hostages. He doesn’t hesitate before pulling up the older man who had been praying silently next to you. 

“No!” you cry, trying to grab his hand to pull him back, but the robber just yanks him harder.  

The man is dragged across the floor, but he’s still visible to you. He’s slammed down on the floor on his knees, facing away from the robbers. Your eyes widen as the man brings the rifle up, only inches from the elderly man’s head. You know you should look away, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, especially when he turns his head and locks eyes with you.  

You are the last thing he sees before the robber pulls the trigger.  

You’re too terrified to scream, or cry, or do much of anything. You just stare in shock as the man collapses into a pool of his own blood.  

“That’s what happens when these cops don’t listen to me!” He rants, waving the gun around. He fires a couple of more shots into the ceiling, causing debris to fall. More screams rattle the interior of the bank. 

“What are you doing?” The quieter robber stands up fiercely and rushes over to his partner. He looks frantically at the dead body on the floor. “You just killed someone!” 

They get in each other's faces. “I’m doing what I have to do to get us out of here!” he screams back. He postures towards the younger boy, intimidating him into backing down.  “I’m trying to save us, Diggy.”

“But killing someone, man? I didn’t sign up for that, Kalo.”

“You just gotta trust me, okay?” The older man, you now knew was named Kalo, spoke. 

Diggy lowers his head, biting his lip harshly. He shakes his head, still in shock that things had gone so wrong, so fast. 

…

“Were those gunshots?” Reid asks, worry evident in his voice. 

“Those were gunshots,” JJ confirms, strapping her vest on tightly. 

Luke squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “We have to go in there,” he states, trying to remain calm. 

Rossi lowers the phone that he had been talking to the unsub on. “He said we just got someone killed.”

“If they’re shooting people, we have to go in–” Luke speaks up again. He’s terrified. What if it was you?

“It wasn’t her,” Matt speaks up. He’s watching the video footage that Luke had been too scared to check. “It looks like an older gentleman.”

Luke lets out a shaky sigh. He feels guilty for being relieved about someone else’s death, but he couldn’t help it. He looks at the clock stationed above the monitor. In another 24 minutes, it could be you. 

“What’s our game plan, here?” One of the SWAT members asks.  

Emily sighs. “We have to play this smart– these guys are reckless and they’re not going down without a fight. If we barge in there, they’ll just start shooting. Who knows how many hostages could get hit in the crossfire?”

“If we don’t go in there, he’s just going to keep executing them one-by-one.” Matt refutes. 

Emily nods. “Someone get me the layout of this building, I need to see the back entrances and side doors. If we go in, I want them surrounded.”

…

You’d never given much thought to how you would die. But sitting here, on the cold tile floor, surrounded by people you didn’t know and two masked assailants, wasn’t something you think you could have ever imagined.  

You wonder how Luke was doing– you knew how protective of you he was. You just hope the team has convinced him to keep a level head. 

The woman sitting next to you was spinning her wedding band around on her finger rapidly.  

“What’s his name?” you ask, motioning towards her ring. 

She looks up at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Julian,” she spoke softly, her lips tugging into a sad smile. “And yours?” she asks. 

You touch your finger to your own ring. “Luke.”

You move your hand across the floor and rest it on top of hers. “We’re going to see them again.”

She nods, using her other hand to cover the sob that was escaping her lips.  

“These FBI agents just don’t learn, do they?” Kalo snarls as he struts across the floor. “They’re gonna let another one of you die.”

This time, he came straight for you. His firm grasp hauls you up to your feet, and before you had time to protest or fight back, he was dragging you to where he’d shot the last man. 

Your breath became choppy and uneven as fear flooded your insides. You were going to die. He was going to kill you. 

“Kalo– stop, no one else has to die!” His friend protests. He even reaches out to pull you away from his clutches, but Kalo shakes him off, jolsting you away from the other man. 

“Kalo!” he shouts, but his partner ignores him.

Just as you get to the middle of the floor, an array of loud bangs echo through the bank, causing you to jump. 

“FBI. Freeze!” A voice yells, before you realize what was happening, Kalo is wrapping his arm around you, and pulling you back against him. The hard barrel of his gun presses against your temple, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll shoot her!” Kalo hollers back, his forearm jabs into your throat. 

When you finally get your bearings, you’re able to look around the room. You see a few faces you recognize.  

The first is Emily. She’s got her gun pointed right at you– or the man holding you, you suppose.  Rossi is beside her, he holds his gun up in his hand before holstering it. 

“We just want to talk, Kalo,” he says calmly.  

Of course they figured out who these guys were, you thought. With Garcia’s tracking abilities, she probably had the men identified within the first five minutes of the robbery. 

You also notice JJ and Matt, they were to the side of you. Clearly they’d found a way in through another door. Reid and Tara flank on the opposite side, they made their way around the two of you, ensuring that the robbers were surrounded. You scan and scan for Luke, but he isn’t there.  It was probably against some policy. You are glad he was following the rules, but you still wish he was there– you wish you could see his face. 

“I’m done talking!” Kalo screams back. His grip tightens and you struggle to breathe. “Go away, or I’ll kill her!” 

He was losing control, you can tell. You squeeze your eyes shut and think about Luke some more. You let his face appear in your mind, his warm brown eyes and soft smile came into focus.  It makes you sad, thinking you may never be able to hear his voice again– or feel his touch.    

“You know we can’t do that, Kalo. Put the gun down and we can work this out.” Rossi says calmly. You open your eyes again. 

“I’m not going back to prison.” Kalo mutters. His arm becomes shaky as it is pushed deeper into your throat, you gag as your airway becomes almost completely blocked. 

“Kalo– don’t do this,” Rossi pleads with the man, he senses that he is about to snap. 

“I’m not going back to prison!” Kalo shouts, and you know– you know that this was it. 

A loud gunshot rings out and you feel yourself dropping to the floor. Your entire body goes numb. You’re sure that you’re dead. 

But as you collapse to the tile floors, you slowly realize that there was no pain– or darkness. You open your eyes to find Kalo lying lifeless next to you. His eyes are still open as blood starts to spread across the ground. You push yourself away, realizing the crimson liquid had splattered all over you and your clothing. You scoot backwards until you ram into the bench.  

You look around the room as the agents jump into action. Rossi hurries to Kalo, kicking his gun out of the way before kneeling down to check his pulse.  

Matt, JJ, and Tara rush to gather up the other hostages, still huddling on the floor in the corner.  

Emily crosses the room to put handcuffs on the other robber. Diggy stands with his gun still pointing at his partner. The smoke is still curling off the end of the barrel as he looks at his fallen friend. 

As Emily approaches him, he drops the weapon, showing that he is willing to go peacefully. 

“No one was supposed to die,” he says in shock. “I had to shoot him.” 

Emily starts telling him his rights when you are approached by a soft, calm voice. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says soothingly. He kneels beside you. “Are you hurt?” he asks. 

You shake your head, your eyes staring blankly at him as you try to regain the feeling in your body. 

“Can you stand?” Spencer asks wearily.  

You nod, slowly getting to your feet, with support from Spencer.  

“Luke–” you manage to spit out. Your voice is shaky. 

Spencer nods, wrapping his around your waist reassuringly, “Luke’s here,” he tells you. “I’m gonna take you to him.”

Spencer leads you outside of the bank. The sunlight is almost blinding and you hold your arms up to shield some of it. You want to search for Luke, to scream out his name, but your senses are betraying you.  

Your knees wobble, and you rely way too much on Spencer’s support to get down the steps of the building. You lean into his side, almost ready to fall, when you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. 

“She’s okay,” Spencer tells Luke as he darts across the sidewalk towards you.   

You barely have time to lay your eyes on him before he’s replacing Spencer’s arm with his own embrace. Suddenly, you’re engulfed by his touch and smell and everything Luke. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s real– that your husband is here and that you’re finally safe in his arms. But when you do, you let it consume you. You collapse into his frame and wind your arms tightly around his neck, squeezing like you just couldn’t get close enough. Your face presses into the nape of his neck and you breathe in his warm, familiar scent. 

“You’re okay?” Luke asks, finally pulling back to assess the damage that had been done.  

He winces when he sees the blood covering your shirt. “It’s not mine,” you whisper, knowing what he was looking so concerned about.

It was his– the man who had inflicted upon you the worst day of your entire life. You scratch at the fabric, suddenly desperate for it to come off. 

“I want to go home,” you tell Luke. 

He nods softly. “I’m gonna take you home.”

…

You stand in the bathroom later that night, staring at the reflection looking back at you. Your eyes were hollow– lifeless. The shower is running, the steam already rising above the curtain and starting to cause the mirror to fog up.  

You peel off your shirt to showcase the deep, discoloration already evident on your neck from where the robber had held you. You were tracing the line of bruises across your skin when the wave hit you. In an instant, you let out an earth shattering sob. The cries come from deep within you and wrack your entire body.  

You’re heaving so loudly that you don’t even hear Luke enter the bathroom. Only when he is behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into your chest did you notice his presence. 

He holds you like that for a while, muttering sweet nothings into your hair and swaying you gently. When your sobs finally subside, he slowly starts helping you undress. First, he helps you unclasp your bra, then he undoes your pants, and acts as a balance support while you step out of them.  

Once you are finally naked, he starts undressing himself.  He is much faster than you. 

Luke leads you into the shower and piles in behind you. The warm water washes over you causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin as you adjust to the sudden heat. 

Luke is gentle. He helps rinse the hardened blood that was caked in your hair out. You watch the water that falls off your skin turn crimson as it swirls down the drain.  He softly takes a washcloth and runs it up and down your skin, you lean into his touch, grateful that he is here to help you. 

Luke plants random kisses all over your skin as he washes it. On your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your shoulder. When he gets to your collarbone, he stops. Luke’s fingertips ran across the bruise that had been left behind on you. You watch as his face twists in pain. He hates seeing you hurt. He hates the fact that he couldn’t stop this from happening to you. 

You break Luke out of his trance by gathering his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Your team saved me today,” you tell him. “You saved me.”

Luke brings your hand to his lips and softly kisses your knuckles. 

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” you tell him. On the last word, your voice breaks, and you start crying softly again. 

Luke pulls you in closer, his hands winding down your back. You press your face against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you like that for a long time, until the hot water causes your fingertips to prune and until the mirror is completely covered in fog. Luke holds you tightly, his head resting against your wet hair as you breathe against his rising chest. 

You sigh heavily. For now, you are content like that. In fact, you don’t think you’d care if the two of you stayed in the shower forever You could spend an entire lifetime like that– wrapped up in Luke’s safe embrace. 

#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader fanfic #luke alvez x reader imagines #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x y/n

[bitchesuntitled]

Paper Rings

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: MDNI blog in general is 18+ go on now, get. Fluff, innuendos, panicked Marcus, cussing, think that's it?

Summary: Marcus wants to ask you an important question.

Mood board made by the amazing @jay-zzle, divider made by @saradika-graphics

Prompt by: @swiftispunk, let me know what ya think!

thank you @notjustjavierpena for taking a look at this and helping me with it! ❤️

Masterlist

Tonight’s the night, Marcus thinks on his drive home. He’s going to ask her to marry him. After their first date, he knew deep down she was the one. Three years later and the feeling hasn’t changed. He’s asked her dad’s permission, the ring has been sitting in his dresser for months now, the reservations have been made at Mastro’s Steakhouse. He clicks the remote for the garage as he pulls into the driveway, taking a deep breath in and out before getting out of the car and going into the house.

You hear the door open downstairs; Marcus must be home. Just in time too; he had told you earlier this morning about making reservations somewhere and to dress pretty like you always do. Working on the finishing touches of your makeup, you see his reflection in the bathroom mirror smiling at you, leaning against the doorway.

“Hey babe,” you greet him with a warm smile, “I am almost done. Is there anything you need to do to get ready?”

“Not much,” Marcus responds, walking away from the doorway to the dresser, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still in the bathroom, and slowly opening the drawer he knows the ring is in, “Need to use the bathroom before we go and might change my suit jacket.” His hand creeps to the very back of the dresser, feeling for that velvet box he knows all too well is there. His fingers touch it, grasping it in his hand, quickly pulling it out, and shoving it into his jacket pocket just as you’re leaving the bathroom. He shuts the drawer quickly and turns to look at you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, giving him a suspicious look.

“Nothing,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, noticing the lone pair of socks on the floor that escaped the drawer as he was pulling the ring out, “Was going to change my socks. My feet feel gross.”

“Okay?” You giggle, shaking your head, getting your shoes on, “Weirdo.”

“Shush, you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins at you, picking up the socks and going to sit on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You grin, “Will you help me with the back of my dress?”

He helps zip your dress up, giving the back of your neck a light kiss, shucking off his suit jacket, and laying it on the bed on his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

__

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking over at Marcus, waiting for the red light to change.

“Now what’s the fun in telling you when it is supposed to be a surprise?” He says, squeezing your thigh, “Patience.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. The car starts moving again when the light turns green. Marcus is so meticulous in everything he does. Always has a plan, a certain way of doing things, likes to be spontaneous to an extent but usually always a set schedule. You love those things about him, he’s the comfort in the chaos that life can sometimes be. He pulls  into one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“Oh my god, Marcus,” you whisper, “How on earth did you get a reservation?”

“I was able to make some calls,” he says, stepping out of the vehicle, making his way to your door. “Had some people who owed me some favors.” He explains, opening your door for you and offering his hand. You take his hand and let him lead you. Handing off his keys to the valet. Walking into the restaurant you are greeted by the hostess.

“Good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile, “Name?”

“Should be under Pike.”

“Ah yes, right this way.” She says, marking in the book and grabbing a couple menus before leading the way.

You cannot believe your eyes looking around at this place. There is a bar, a live jazz band playing, and plenty of couples sitting at the other tables.

“Is this table okay, Mr. Pike?” The hostess asks when she stops at an empty table.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Marcus smiles, stepping over to the chair closest to you and sliding it out for you.

“Your waiter will be right with you.” She says, giving a small nod setting the menus down on the table.

You sit in the chair, grabbing the menu, watching Marcus move to the other side of the table to sit down across from you.

“So, Mr. Pike,” you smirk, “What on earth is the special occasion?”

“Just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he replies, cocking an eyebrow, “Is that not allowed?”

“You’re up to something.”

“I am not,” Marcus grins, opening his menu, “What do you think you’ll have?”

“I’m thinking the salmon, although those crab cakes would be a good start, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Good evening and welcome to Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’m Jared and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” A young man who approaches the table says, “Can I get you two something to drink?”

“I want whatever wine pairs the best with the New York strip, sweetheart?”

“You know, I’ll think I’ll do the same thing he’s doing, Mr. Wine Connoisseur over there,” you laugh, “Whatever pairs well with the salmon dish.”

“Alright, I will ask the chef what he thinks would be the best.”

“Oh!” You say as Jared starts to leave the table, “Crab cakes! We want the crab cakes as our appetizer.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

—

It’s now or never, Marcus thinks. The evening went exactly how he wanted it to, the meal was fantastic, the wine amazing, the dessert ordered to go will be arriving soon. This is the perfect moment to ask her.

“You know,” Marcus says, grabbing your hands, rubbing them softly, “You were right, I do have something special planned for us.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Marcus takes a deep breath in and lets it out, “Babe, I knew from the moment that I met you I wanted to be with you.”

He pulls your hands to his lips and gives them a soft kiss.

“After our first date, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.”

He stands up and gets down on one knee. You can hear people begin to whisper around you, watching the scene before you unfold.

“Oh my god” You say holding his hand tighter, “Marcus?”

“Baby, I love you so very much and I—” he says, patting the pocket of his suit jacket. “Fuck.”

“Babe?”

“No, no, no,” Marcus says, frantically searching his suit jacket and pants. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“Marcus,” you say, holding his face, “Look at me.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love. “I swear there’s a ring. I changed my jacket not even think—"

“Babe, I don’t care.” You smile, interrupting his panicked ramblings, “Ask me.”

“But the ring?”

“Don’t care, ask me.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck slotting your mouth against his. You can hear several of the other patrons clapping.

“Congratulations!” Jared says, returning to your table with your dessert.

“Thank you!” You say, beaming with joy.

—

On the drive home you can’t stop smiling like an idiot while holding Marcus’ hand. This is everything you dreamed about as a little girl; finding the perfect person to spend your life with and that is Marcus through and through.

“I still can’t believe I forgot the fucking ring!” Marcus says, shaking his head.

“Babe, you could’ve asked me with a ring made of paper and I would’ve said yes,” you laugh, “That’s the last thing I care about.”

“Well, a paper ring would be better than nothing!”

Approaching a gas station on the side of the road, an idea popped into your head.

“Stop!” You yelp, “Stop at that gas station!”

Marcus gives you a sideways look but pulls in regardless. Never one to refuse your requests.

“Cash?” You ask with your sweetest smile.

“Why’d we stop here?” He asks, rolling his eyes while getting his wallet out and handing you a twenty. You just give him a mischievous grin while getting out of the car. The door dings when you step into the gas station, making a beeline to the candy aisle and finding exactly what you were looking for: A bag of ring pops. Unable to contain your excitement, you let out a little squeal while grabbing them and head to the front.

“That’ll be $4.98.” The cashier says after ringing up your candy. You slap the twenty down on the counter and grab the bag running out.

“Thank you! Keep the change!” You shout behind you.

Getting back to the car, you see Marcus shaking his head trying to hold in his laughter. You make quick work of opening the bag, getting one singular ring pop out, and opening that as well, tapping on his window quickly, telling him to get out of the car.

“What on earth are you doing, honey?” Marcus laughs, opening the car door.

“You said something would be better than nothing,” you laugh, “Here’s something!”

You hand him the ring pop. He shakes his head looking at it.

“Baby,” Marcus starts looking up at you. “A ring pop? Really?”

“Marcus!” You huff, crossing your arms, “Are you gonna ask me?”

“Here?!” Marcus looks at you with surprise, looking at the ground, “Babe, this is a gas station parking lot!”

“And?”

“Babe, my pants—“

“Marcus Vincent Pike,” You scold, giving him a look that he knows means business.

“Okay, okay,” He says laughing, grabbing your hand, sliding out of the seat of the car with one knee on the ground, “Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Duh!” You say, jumping up and down as he slides the ring pop onto your finger. “It’s beautiful!”

Marcus bursts into laughter as you shove the ring pop into your mouth. “Tasty too!” You say after popping it out of your mouth.

Marcus grabs your hand, lifting it to his mouth, pushing the ring pop in, hollowing his cheeks a little, letting out a soft sigh. You can feel your mouth getting dry while you watch him suck on the ring pop. The makeshift engagement ring makes a soft pop as he lets it leave his mouth.

“I can think of something that’s sweeter,” he says with a sly smile and wink, letting go of your hand.

#marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus pike #the mentalist #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x female reader #swiftispunk #bitchesuntitled

[helaelaemond]

Billy Washington idea: Soft-ish Billy being upset after getting himself into trouble again. Like, he just can't stop being a flop even when he tries to. Reader comforts him in the best and smuttiest way she can. Maybe he shows up unexpectedly at her place because he needs someone, even though he won't admit it? Idk, delinquent flop men get me going sometimes.

Title: Only worth living if somebody is loving you - part of the It's All For You series but can be read as standalone

Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader

Summary: Billy has been fired and feels worthless. But you love him; he's everything to you. So you show him how much worth he has. Established relationship, handjob, fingering, pet names, mild daddy kink, mild dirty talk.

Word count: 3.1k

Rating: E

Notes: thank you so much for the prompt! This was a lot of fun to write when I am supposed to be working!

You're not meant to have your phone on at work, but you get away with it where you can. You're in the basement kitchen today, anyway, so no customers will see. Behind the shoddy table set up as a makeshift barista bar, you fill tray after tray of tea and coffee - Blue Lady, Darjeeling, Sumatran, Colombian, jasmine, they all roll into one in the end. So feeling your phone vibrate in your apron pocket is a delightful distraction.

You ignore the tickets coming through behind you, and get one of the dish boys to cover you. "What? I need a fag," you reply over your shoulder when he protests. You smile giddily at your phone and swipe to answer. "Hey, Billy."

He doesn't sound happy on the other end. "Hey."

You slink into the alley and crouch close to the floor, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "What's up?"

"You got a sec?"

There's something in his voice that worries you. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Tell me."

He sighs. You hear him blare his horn as he drives, followed by a string of profanities. "Fucking wanker! Twat!"

You take a long drag. "You on a run?" He's been a delivery driver for a delivery service for a few months now. It's shitty money and shitty conditions, but it's all he could get after being fired from his last job. Hitting a customer. The customer swung for him first, but it was Billy who landed the first successful punch.

"No. Driving home."

"Oh?"

"Don't fucking start."

You force yourself to smile against your phone. Your voice is soft. "Hey. I'm not starting anything. You called me."

He sighs again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't... I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"They sacked me."

"Why?" you ask, closing your eyes and wincing.

Billy's voice is clipped. "Didn't meet their targets."

"Those targets are bullshit," you snap defensively. Everything he's told you about his job has you seeing red - they take advantage and bleed him dry. "You don't need that place."

"I need the pay check."

"We'll figure it out. Where you going now?"

He pauses. You hear his indicator, and the rev of his ancient car engine as he moves between gears. "Your parent still away?"

You watch as the smoke you blow out rises up the alley and into the sky. "Yeah. Key's in the plant pot. I finish in an hour. Make yourself at home."

Billy's car is parked lazily on your street, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. It's been a few years since you got together, but adrenaline still runs through you at the mere thought of being near him. He's got you addicted, flaws and all. It made you want to run all the way home after your shift ended, but you don't think you quite have the stamina for a three-mile sprint.

"Hey, Billy," you call as you let yourself into the home you still share with your parents. London prices are impossible - you'll probably live with them until they die

He grunts in response, and you follow the noise into the living room. He's sat on the sofa facing away from you, head bent, and you go to him. You drop your bag and kick off your shoes and wrap your arms around him from behind. "Hey, daddy."

He winces. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" you whisper against his ear. "You usually like it."

Billy pulls out of your arms and shifts on the sofa. "Yeah, well, I don't right now."

"Sorry." You go to the kitchen and make two cups of tea - milk and sugar for you, no sugar for him. None of the loose-leaf shit you serve at work, just proper Yorkshire bags. He follows you quietly, and thanks you when you hand him his. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugs, still avoiding your gaze.

"Billy." Your voice is soft. The hard pain in his face hurts to see.

He licks his lips and takes a sip. It's scalding, and he hisses quietly. You put your cup down to cool, and go to him. Your hands find their place on his narrow hips, and you look up at him. He's so tall; it makes you feel so safe. His hair is getting long, and it falls over his eyes.

After a long moment, he finally meets your gaze. "I really tried with this one."

You nod. "I know."

"I promise."

"I know."

"Why are you with me?" he asks softly. When he tries to pull away, you hold him close. "I'm not... God, you deserve better than this."

"No, Billy, no." One hand runs to the small of his back and the other finds his cheek to guide his gaze back to you. "You're worth so much more than a shitty job."

"I'm a failure."

"No, you're not," you soothe. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Don't let some stupid job define you."

"You deserve so much more than me."

You reach up on your toes and kiss his lips firmly. He meets your kiss with a quiet sigh. "You're all I've ever wanted and needed. Don't worry about the job."

"I'm not worthy of you."

Taking his hand, you lead him back to the living room. You both bring your cups with you and set them on the coffee table. You push him to sit on the sofa, and when you straddle him, it's satisfying how naturally his grasp finds your backside. But still, he drops his head to your shoulder in defeat. You stroke his hair and gently massage his scalp, just as he likes.

"You want me to tell you how much I love you?" you murmur.

He swallows thickly. He shakes his head.

"You want me to show you? You want me to help you forget everything else?"

He doesn't react, except to pull you tighter. You smile slightly, and kiss his hair. Sex is something that brings you closer than anything else. It's the place where Billy feels most in control, where he can take care of you and call the shots and do everything to make you feel good. You accidentally called him daddy once when he was fucking you, and that was the day your dynamic changed. He leaned into the nickname proudly, and he wears it like a secret badge of honour. He does everything to earn it, too. He takes care of you, dominates you like you need. It's the only time when he feels like a real man. He loves you so much, he forgets what hating himself feels like.

The world is cruel to him, but you never are. You're just obsessed with him.

"You want me to take care of you?" you whisper against his ear. Billy buries his face against your chest, and gently bites through your shirt. It smells of coffee and tea and kitchen grease. He nods again.

"Alright. I can do that." You tilt up his chin and kiss him. This time, it's deeper. When you part your lips, he mirrors you and welcomes your tongue into his mouth. Pulling back for a moment, you look into his piercing blue eyes. "Can you do something for me?"

He nods.

You smile softly. "Can you undo my shirt for me, please?"

Billy's eyes are wide, and he nods again. Long fingers complete the task, and your white work shirt falls open. Underneath is a practical bra, white and cotton and far from sexy. Still, just the sensation of him opening your shirt makes your nipples hard, and that's enough for him. "Thank you," you say, affection in your voice. "Can you touch me?"

He's putty in your hands for once. This is new territory for you, being so in control. Usually, he's the one gently telling you what to do, his voice sugar and honey as his requests and commands turn from this kind of sweetness into depravity. You're trying to emulate him now, to give him what he might need.

He runs his knuckles over your breasts through the fabric, up and down he goes, catching your hard nipples each time. Half the time you're with him, it feels like the first time. Not in a bad way, just the excitement and anticipation, and how much you fucking need him. Just this touch has you feeling your heartbeat in your cunt.

"Lean back, baby," you tell him. You haven't called him that before. It's the pet name he calls you when he's fucking you to the point of tears, and so you're unsure. He shakes his head slightly. "Lean back, Billy." That, he obeys, and that makes you smile. "Good. Can you take off your shirt for me, too?"

Keeping his eyes on you, he takes off his black tshirt and tosses it aside. You grab it, though, and press it against your nose to catch his scent. "Mmph. I love your smell."

"Yeah?" His expression is softening slowly over time. The tension in his eyebrows is smoothing out.

"Yeah, I do." You shrug out of your open shirt. As you unclasp your bra, you shift to straddle one of his thighs instead of both, and grind slightly. The friction feels so good. When you're good for him, daddy sometimes lets you ride his leg until you come. The thought makes you shiver. "I love everything about you."

"I..." As you throw aside your bra, Billy runs his hands up your sides and back down to your hips. His eyes dart between your face and your breasts. "I don't deserve you."

In his grey joggers, you see his familiar swell. It's impossible to resist reaching for it and pressing the flat of your hand to him. "You deserve me every single day, Billy. You make me feel... oh, God. You make me feel divine."

His hands go back to your breasts, and elegant fingers gently tease your nipples in perfect tandem. Under your hand, you feel his cock twitch. He loves your breasts. Then, he mirrors your action, except his hand tugs down your zipper and he presses his fingers against you over your underwear. A slight lift of your hips, and his hand is trapped between you and his thigh.

"No," you murmur with a smile. "I want to focus on taking care of you."

"You are," he replies. "It makes me feel good to take care of you, too."

He's rewarded with a kiss to his pretty lips, and this time his tongue finds yours first. The pressure of it makes you shiver again. You grind harder against his hand, whilst your own hand palms him through the soft material.

"God." He drops against the back of the sofa again and looks up at you. "Promise you love me."

You take the hand between your legs to your mouth. As you suck his fingers, you look into his eyes. You swirl your tongue between them, over them, and your other hand reaches into his trousers. You fumble with the band of his boxers, and trap his cock under it. You touch the red tip and moan around his digits.

"I fucking love your cock," you moan as you pull his fingers from your mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I can't get enough of it, not ever."

"What do you do when we're apart?" he asks, encouraging you. Suddenly, he grabs you and pulls you to sit next to him on the sofa. His confidence is returning.

"I... I watch that video you made for me a few months ago."

Billy watches your face and bites his lip. "Take off your clothes," he murmurs softly. You obey. "What video?"

With his gentle dominance coming back, your heart is racing. He lifts his hips to help you push down his trousers and underwear, and you begin a steady rhythm with your hand on his cock. "The one where you're alone on your bed."

"Spread your legs for me, baby."

Your breath catches in your throat. Again, you obey. He runs his palm up and down the inside of your thigh, and he pulls it over his leg. The intimacy of feeling your legs rest together makes your chest flush. Billy's hand slides up the soft skin of your inner thigh, and he watches your face. He has more control over his expression as you stroke him than you do when his fingers run up and down the outside of your pussy.

"What was I doing in the video?" he asks softly.

Moaning. Writhing. Begging. "Touching yourself."

"You never sent me a video back."

You laugh quietly. It turns swiftly to a moan when Billy's middle and ring fingers glide between your folds lazily. "I... I tried."

"Did you?"

As two digits press at your entrance, your hand on his cock stills. The pressure is delicious, a little demanding, a little possessive. He touches you like he owns you. He does own you. "Yeah. But... oh, shit, that's nice. But when I watched it back, I... mmph, Billy- it wasn't quite right."

"Impossible," he whispers. He leans over to kiss your neck just as his fingers slip inside. "Everything about you is perfect."

"You're blind."

He bites your ear and then blows into it. "I'm a man in love, that's all."

"Love," you breathe. Finally, you find the strength to stroke him again, although his fingers moving inside of you are driving you to distraction. "There aren't enough words to tell you how I feel about you."

"Mmm?"

"I'm fucking obsessed." He rewards you with his thumb pressing against the side of your clit. He gently rubs up and down, careful not to overstimulate you. "Shit, just like that, please-"

"I don't deserve you." But he's smiling this time. "My pretty girl."

When he says things like that, you utterly melt. And then, it's you who's putty again, and Billy who's in control. "Kiss me?"

"Come here, baby."

You whimper needily when he pulls out his hand. But he grabs your hand, and you climb back into his lap. His trousers and underwear are still on his thighs. Perhaps if he fucks you good enough, you'll leave your smell on them.

"You want me inside you?"

You nod and clutch his shoulders. "Please."

"Please, what?"

It's not even a question. It's am automatic response now. "Please, daddy."

"Oh, that's my good girl."

As you cling onto him, Billy runs his cock through your folds, pressing the head against your clit. When you feel his bluntness against your entrance, you whine softly. "Please. I need you so bad. Please."

"You love me?"

You nod, and press a feverish kiss to his forehead. "I love you so much."

As he presses inside you, your mouth drops open in a silent moan. He's perfect for you, not big enough to hurt, not small enough to frustrate. He doesn't stretch, he fills. He's everything to you. You grind against him and feel the delicious slip of him inside and out. When you rock against his hard pubic bone, he praises you. "Good girl, taking what you need. I'm so proud of you."

It makes you bite your lip. You rock in a familiar rhythm that suits you both. His kisses are on your chest and your shoulders, hot and wet. Over the pulse in your neck, he sucks gently. He'd never leave a mark on you that would embarrass you for other people to see. But when his lips find your breasts again, he gives you flowers of purple and red.

"Fuck!" you whine. "You're perfect, you're so perfect."

He crushes his mouth against yours. Strong arms wrap around your back and then all of a sudden he flips you onto the sofa and shoves your legs up. They press together and you feel the ache down the back of them, but it's nothing compared to the ache in your cunt now he's left you empty. It's only for a moment, though. He slams back inside you, and the change in angle threatens to overwhelm you. Like this, his every pound has the tension between your legs stimulated.

"Daddy!" you moan. "Please, let me see you, please, please-!"

The hand that grips your ankles loosens enough to let one leg drop down. Now you can see him, his slight grin, the fire in his eyes. He looks at you like a man obsessed, like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

"That's it, baby," he pants. His hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. His tight balls slap against you with every thust, making you whimper. "You're taking me so beautifully. Well done, my sweet girl."

"I'm so close!"

"Tell me what you need." He holds your elevated leg up by his shoulder, and turns his head to kiss your ankle. But his eyes never leave yours.

"Your h- Jesus! Hand! Please! Please!"

"Well done," he says again between laboured breaths. "You're so good at telling me what you need. Like this?"

While his hand presses firmly against your pelvis, his thumb finds its way back to your clit. The circles he runs are harder and faster now.

"Can I come?" you beg.

"Of course, baby. Whenever you need."

'Thank you, daddy!"

He's so good to you. He makes sure you orgasm first. Billy pounds you through your explosive completion that makes your whole body jerk, and only when your guttural screams have subsided does he let himself go. You got the coil so he can have you properly. He clings to the thigh against his chest as he comes, spending deep inside you. The cry of your name is deep and ragged. It sends aftershocks rushing through you.

He collapses on you, and you both pant. Only when his cock begins to soften does he pull out of you, but beyond that, neither of you move much. His face is buried in your neck, and your hand is buried in his hair.

After a while, you feel lips press softly against your throat.

"You okay?" you whisper.

"Mmm."

"I wanted to be the one to take care of you." You laugh softly.

He kisses your skin again. "You always take care of me." His voice is nothing more than a mumble.

The laughter fades on your lips. "I always will. I love you so much."

"You make life worth living."

Your arms tighten around him. "Your life is so precious, Billy. We'll find a way to make it better. I promise."

"I love you."

#billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #ewan mitchell #billy washington x oc #billy washington #billy multi #ask #anon #sorry if hes not pathetic enough for you!!!!!!!!! my vision of him has evolved a lot #hes still in a flop era though #mine

[xetswan]

By Your Side- Prologue

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

(Until Dawn)

[Prologue] [One] [Two]

“Hey sissy.” Jessica jumps on the end of my bed with a huge grin. I raise a brow, closing my laptop.

“What is it, Jess?” I let out a large sigh causing her to pout out her lip.

“Oh come on, I just wanted to hang out with my older sister.” She nudges my calf, scooting closer to me on the bed.

“Right, you haven’t called me sissy in years.” I call her out, to which my little sister scoffs. Shaking her head in disagreement to my statement.

Right now we’ve been home alone, our parents out for some business trip or so they say. They do this every month or two, telling us a business trip came up that they have to go to when in reality we all know it’s just a mini vacation they want to take without feeling guilty. Something they shouldn’t have to feel guilty for.

“Uh, yes I have. Just the other day. Maybe I just want to say it again.” Jessica argues with me and I let out a small chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll keep you to it, sissy.” I mock her, she tries to hide it but she breaks out into a smile as well.

“Okay, fine. I overheard Hannah saying we’re going to the lodge! Did Josh say anything to you about it?” She hops up on her knees, bouncing on my bed a little bit. “It was mentioned but I don’t think I’m going.” I let out a nervous laugh, I watched as her eyes bulged out of the sockets along with her mouth hung wide open.

“You have to go! Mom and dad won’t let me go unless you do.” She grips on my knee shaking me aggressively.

It’s not that I don’t want to go.

It sounds fun as heck but lately Josh has been acting a little more flirtatious with me and I’m not up for an awkward weekend of the group making fun of us. Ever since Thanksgiving he started becoming more flirty with me. I went to his family’s dinner and I don’t know.

I like him, of course I do. Who wouldn’t in my position I just don’t want our friendship to get messed up in the heat of things.

“I.. I don’t know Jessie. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.” I lie, I’m all caught up. I only have three classes so I also have time to work.

“[Name], please. I’ll clean your car whenever you want me to! And your dishes! For a month!” She pleads with me. I bite the tip of my thumb thinking about it. A weekend with friends might get out minds off of things. Josh might not bother me as much as I think he will. I close my eyes.

“Okay,” I breathe out, “okay, I’ll go but please try to make sure the pranks against me are at a minimum. And don’t worry about cleaning my things.” I slouch down a tad bit only to be brought back up by my sister who squeals and hugs me. “I can’t wait for the invitation to make things official!” She lets me go and excitedly leaves my room.

I hear her call Ashley which surprised me. I didn’t expect her to really become friends with Ashley. It’s better than Emily though.

I check my phone that pings a few times, Josh and Chris’s names pop up and I roll my eyes at what they’re saying.

“Partying it up on Mount Washington!!!!!!!!! What you guys think?” Josh using way too many exclamation points.

“I’m in, you know it!” Chris sends with multiple emojis and I snort out a laugh.

“[Name], how about you?” Josh puts a little winky face to which I roll my eyes, a smirk still laid upon my lips though.

“Hm, I don’t know.” I respond back, Chris sends a gasping face emoji in response to my message.

“You’re the life of the party you have to be there:(“ Chris says.

“Is it worth my time though?” I tease them, obviously I already told Jessica I was going. I’m not backing out of my word but it is fun to mess with my boys.

“Oh wowww, can’t believe Miss chugger won’t come to a party… with provided alcohol.” Josh says, my jaw slacks open in shock.

“Hey, Miss chugger is in the past, dead even and she’s not coming back.” I remind him. In high school we of course were bit of partiers.

I was the worst of the worst when it comes to drinking. I’d out drink everyone, chugging disgusting beers, taking shots of pure vodka like it was nothing. Just thinking about those days makes me want to vomit.

“I miss her:(“ Chris comments,

Josh puts the laughing emoji, “me too:(“ I roll my eyes once again.

“Shut up, I’m coming I already told Jessie I would. Miss chugger on the other hand you guys can forget it.” I turn my phone off after I hit send, getting back on my laptop to watching YouTube videos like I was before Jessica rudely came into my room.

“C’mon, sissy, everyone else is already waiting for us!” Jessica dramatically tugs me onto the cable car.

“You’re really sticking with Sissy now?” I scrunch my face, throwing my backpack onto my back since I just had to get my hat out, somehow I forgot how cold it actually was going to be up here. I was currently wearing a little puffer jacket, a pink slightly cropped sweater underneath with low rise jeans.

“Of course, I told you I might want to say it again and I do!” She folds her arms. I shake my head. “Okay, sorry.” I jokingly say.

As the cable car goes up I glance around. Taking in the beauty of it all.

I used to come up here with the Washington’s for the summer sometimes, this also isn’t my first winter up here. I love the Washington’s, they’ve always welcomed me. It was nice to have a place where I didn’t always have to take Jessica with me since she’s my younger sister our parents always expected me to have her tag along.

I love her and all but it’s cool to have my own time too.

“Look, I see them!” She points over to the group who were actually waiting for us. I glance over and they’re waving to us, so we do it back.

Jessica was practically on the edge of her seat excited to get off. As it gets to where we need to be we rush off and get greeted with hugs from our friends. Even if we’ve seen them just days or a few weeks ago.

“It’s nice to see you actually came!” Josh jokes with me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, it was a tough decision.” I mess with him. Chris gives me a small side hug.

“Ready for the weekend Chugger?” He takes my hat off to which I slap him on the arm.

“Chugger doesn’t exist anymore. Give me that!” I jump up to grab from the blond.

“I think I’ll wear it.” He places it on his head. “Doesn’t this look nice on me, Josh?” Chris turns to our other friends as we all start walking. “Oh man, I’d totally take you to the bone zone if you were a girl.” Josh says and I let out a sort of loud laugh.

“The bone zone? God you are so corny.” I hold my stomach.

“Okay, okay, calm down. It wasn’t that funny.” Josh pats my back. Chris tries to hold back his laughter as well.

“Are we almost there yet, my feet are killer from the work out I did earlier.” Matt speaks up from behind us, we stop and turn.

“Just a little bit always, princess.” Beth replies to him. “Ha-ha, I’m serious. I might’ve did a little too much.” He mainly comments the last part to himself. I then hear Mike and Emily flirting with each other making me want to gag but then I also notice how Hannah was staring at them, well staring at Mike.

We began walking again and I slowed down a little bit.

“Hey, Han.” I nudge her arm. She snaps out of her thoughts looking at me.

“Hey [Name].” She gives a small smile. “You like him?” I whisper, her face suddenly then drops.

“Who told you? Did Josh read my journal or something?” She starts to panic but I shush her, calming her down.

“No, no, I saw the way you were looking at them. Either you like him or it’s Emily which is kind of doubtful considering I didn’t think you swung that way. It’s not a bad thing if you did.” I rambled on a little bit, causing her to snicker shaking her head.

“It’s him, I didn’t think I was that obvious.” She shyly rubs her hands together, most likely trying to give herself warmth.

“It’s probably not, I just enjoy observing people sometimes.” I assure her.

“Oh, okay. Well I’ve actually done some observing myself and it seems like you’re avoiding my brother.” She calls me out, my mouth instantly closing having nothing to say in response to that spot on observance she had.

“What? I haven’t- I’m not avoiding him.” I disagree, glancing up to see Josh, Chris and Matt messing with each other as Mike cheers for god knows what they’re doing. “Right, so you not coming over on the weekends to hang out with Josh after Thanksgiving is you not avoiding him?” She questions me.

“Exactly it’s not.” I try to stay confident with my answer, attempting to keep a straight face but once I look at her we both burst into laughter.

“Fine, fine! I am.” I sigh out, kicking the snow as we walk up the trail. “But why? You guys never have a problem.” She frowns.

“It’s a long story.” I bite my bottom lip thinking about all that’s happened.

“We have some time before we get to the house.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. I glance up ahead again, seeing as everyone was pre-occupied with each other.

“Josh and I sort of got flirty with each other. Your brother was super headstrong with it. I kind of did it back. We kissed a few times on Thanksgiving night and since that night I was scared it would ruin our friendship so I cut back. I gave excuses to not come over.” I let out in a low voice so only she could hear. Hannah smiles at me sweetly.

“I know I’m a jerk for it but it’s just my anxiety taking over I guess.” I stare at the ground.

“You’re not a jerk. That also wasn’t a long story.” She comments, both of us laughing once again. “Just talk with Josh. You never know what could happen.” Hannah nudges me, I do it back to her. Both of us smiling. “Okay, I will.” I stand up straighter.

Once we get to the lodge, Josh opens the door dramatically.

“Finally, warmth!” Sam opens her arms, spinning around as she walks further inside. I watch Beth turn the lights on with a smirk watching Sam. “Very exciting.” I agree, tugging my jacket off, holding it in my arm.

“Party time!” Mike announces earning the rest of us to cheer. Josh, Chris, Ashley and I go get our rooms, well Josh is showing us to ours, I’m the last one too. He turns a familiar corner and I start to fold my arms.

“This is your room, Josh.” I point out. “Nice observation.” He smirks, taking my jacket and back from my hands he places them down with his on a chair that’s up against the wall. I shake my head, chuckling.

“Where’s my actual room that I usually sleep in?” I lean against the doorway.

“Oh c’mon, babe. Just this weekend.” He comes up to me, taking one of my hands. “Just this weekend, what?” I raise a brow, confused but also intrigued. He leads me into the room, sitting me down before going back to close the door.

“I mean we both know how we feel about each other. It’s pretty obvious.” He concludes, not exactly looking me in the eyes. “And how do we feel about each other, Joshua?” I stare up at him. His eyes finally meet mine, and it looks like he melted just from our eye contact.

“Y’know…” He mutters, coming closer. “I don’t.” I tease him, standing up to push him down on the bed so I’m in between his legs this time. His hands find my hips, aggressively he squeezes them, lowly groaning.

“[Name], please, you don’t understand what you do to me.” He pulls me closer to him, my chest practically in his face. I feel my face warm up, I wasn’t expecting this. My hand drags up his torso to his face, cradling it as I force him to look up at me.

“Let’s try this out.” I whisper. His eyes lighten up, I feel his grip tighten even more.

“What- what do you mean?” He adjusts himself on the bed, I still stare at his face. “Let’s try out the relationship thing,” I begin and a smile erupts on his face.

“But, if this doesn’t work out, we don’t let our friendship get awkward.” I practically am begging with my facial expression. “It will work out.” He pushes me back a little bit so he can stand up. He kisses me gently, first on the lips then trailing down to my jawline.

“We should get going back down before anyone gets suspicious.” I hum out, feeling his lips begin to touch my neck. I try to push on his chest but he’s gripping my sides so tightly like I’ll run away.

“Let them.” He takes a small break only to work on my neck again. “Josh.” I gasp. He snickers, finally stopping. His eyes trail all over my face then to my neck.

“You might want to cover that up.” He taps the spot he was attacking before grabbing his phone from the bed and walking out. My face scrunches up, confused at first but then I rush over to the mirror, I let out a loud gasp.

“Joshua!!” I hold my neck and I hear him let out a laugh. I sigh, going over to the chair with our stuff and dig in it, finding a stupid thin scarf I brought and neatly wrap it to hide the hickey he gave me.

I finally start heading downstairs, joining the rest of the group who were planning out what we’re doing for the weekend.

Later that night Josh and Chris decided to do a drinking game, I sat next to Josh as Chris sat across from us.

Beth and Sam were watching everything go down. “Come on Chugger, you gotta join us.” Chris practically whines, my eyes roll in response. “I told you she’s dead. Now knock it off.” I wave my hand in a swift movement.

“I liked Chugger, she was sexy.” Josh whispered the last part into my ear. I shove him away from me as my face warmed up.

“What was that? Care to share with the class?” Sam speaks up and I felt my eyes widen.

“Chugger, she was a sexy woman back in the day.” Josh announces and my body shrivels down in embarrassment. “She was a careless teenager.” I disagree. “Same thing.” Chris shrugs his shoulders, picking up a beer and beginning to take the first sip.

I watched as the two get shitfaced with Beth and Sam, us three talking about school work or just things going on in our lives.

Sam decides to join the others and I think Hannah went to go write or something, Beth and I are now taking pictures on our phones acting stupid.

Josh and Chris are passed out now.

“I’m glad you decided to come.” Beth smiles at me and I nod, putting my phone down.

“Me too, even if your brother is annoying. I’m still having fun.” I joke, of course forgetting why I have my scarf on I take it off due to me getting hot and my neck starting to sweat.

“He loves you.” Beth mumbles looking over at her drunken brother, laughing. “I don’t know about love but yeah.” I glance over at him, his face smushed on his arm with his mouth wide open.

“Oh my god.” The girl suddenly whispers and I snap my head over to her. “What? What is it?” I look down at myself to see if she accidentally dropped something on me.

“Is that a hickey?” She flicks the spot on my neck, I hiss, slapping her hand away.

“Is that from Josh?” She breaks out into a small laughing fit.

“What- no, it’s- maybe.” I couldn’t find a good excuse okay? Kill me. “That’s hilarious, Matt owes me fifty bucks.” She throws her head back.

“You bet on our love life?” I crossed my arms. “Everyone practically did. Even Chris.” She gets up to start cleaning after Josh and Chris.

I just sit there, in shock from what she just told me.

Beth leaves the room and I go back to sitting beside Josh, laying my head down on his shoulder. He moves around a little bit. “Hm?” He hums and I shush him.

“Sorry, just wanted to be by you.” I whisper. He grumbles a little bit but harshly leans up to put his arm around me, laying his head back down on his other arm. I smile to myself, laying down on my arm, cuddling up next to him. Our legs now sort of entangled together. I didn’t drink or anything but the tiredness of traveling finally hit me.

I don’t even know how much time has passed but that was until I heard the ending of a conversation.

“Just because he’s class Prez doesn’t mean he belongs to everyone… Mike is my man.” I hear Emily say as they leave the kitchen.

“Hey, Em. I’m not anybody’s man.”

“Whatever you say, Darling!” She sings. I lift my head up for a second but then shrug, going back to sleep, I hear someone walk in but I just ignore it.

Thinking I was going to get to fall asleep for longer I instead get Beth walking in to continue cleaning up, I still let Josh hold onto me but I sit my head up to watch her.

“Hey did you see that? Dad said it’d just be us this weekend.” She turns to us but sees the two boys still passed out.

“Josh?”

“He’s been passed out, love. I don’t think you’ll be waking him up anytime soon.” I give her a sad face.

“But what did you see?” I ask. “I thought I saw someone outside. I swear I did.” She frowns, glancing at the window again but she heads over to the counter.

She picks up a bottle that’s in front of us and empty by the way. It’s an older scotch, Jeremiah Cragg.

“Jeez, Josh… Once again brother you outdone us all. She pats the arm that he has around me and I tiredly laugh. I then watch her spin a paper around, picking it up to read it.

“Oh my god. What did our naive sister get herself into now?” Beth turns to us and I raise a brow. “What?” I ask. “Here.” She hands me the paper and I read it. I close my eyes letting out a long breath.

“I think they found out about Hannah’s feelings. This has to be a prank.” I gently pull Josh’s arm off of me and I stand up, placing the paper down and they we look outside to see Hannah crying, running past the window.

“Oh my god.” I gasp.

“Wake Josh I’ll go to the others, I hope that wasn’t Hannah.” She runs outside, I nod. Going over to the passed out drunk. I overhear the others yelling outside for Hannah and then hear Beth run after her sister.

“Josh, Joshua, hun.” I push his body. His snore becomes a little louder and I bite my bottom lip. “Babe, c’mon wake up, Beth and Hannah ran outside.” I say a little loud, shaking him more aggressively.

“What?” He becomes more awake.

“They what?” He lifts his head up.

“The others played a prank on Hannah, I’m guessing it was bad because she ran outside and Beth followed from what I heard.” I tell him, now he’s more alert and he drunkenly stood up. He stumbles a bit so I run over and get him a water.

“Here, drink and let’s go.” I tell him. Suddenly when we saw the group he sobers up.

“What the hell did you guys do!?” Josh angrily shouts, he was holding my hand for support.

“It was just a prank, Josh, we didn’t mean for it to upset her like that.” Emily steps forward and I glare at her. Then at Mike, then to Jessica.

“Especially you, Jessica.” I point a finger at her, her head goes down.

“I can’t believe you guys would do something so stupid like that.” I shake my head, disappointed.

“I tried to warn her, I was too late.” Sam tells me and I smile weakly. “Let’s just hope they come back soon.” I frown.

Soon never came though.

After thirty minutes Josh began to panic and I woke Chris up. Catching him up with everything as we decided to go look for the two sisters.

I called the police and mountain patrol but we never found them.

For months we did search parties, I stayed by Josh’s side, knowing it’s a tough time for him. I barely passed two semesters as I was always with him trying to help.

I didn’t mind it though. I wanted to make sure he was okay. I knew he wasn’t. His parents were rough on him, telling him it was his fault since he was drunk.

It wasn’t his fault. It was our stupid friends fault for playing that dirty prank on Hannah the way they did.

It’s about a year now and no one has even seen a sign of them…

It’s horrible.

#until dawn #until dawn imagines #until dawn x reader #mike munroe #jessica riley #emily davis #until dawn sam #chris hartley #christopher hartley #ashley brown #matt taylor #matthew taylor #josh washington x reader #josh washington #joshua washington #Joshua Washington x reader #beth washington #hannah washington

[plussizefantasia]

Ancient Races

Flufftober Day 28: Witches

Emmett Cullen x witch!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: I think I've said this a lot but this is one of my favorites that I've written for Flufftober. Emmett has got to be my favorite himbo and the fact that he's a vampire really only makes it better.

I'm still looking for more requests for when I come back if you have any ideas please let me know. Reblogs and Feedback are always appreciated. See y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Magic has been running through your family’s veins for centuries. Generation after generation of bright young witches who had powers beyond the scope of the rest of humanity. You were taught by your mother, and she hers and so on and so on. When you were five, your father got a job as the deputy sheriff in the small town of Forks Washington. Your mother didn’t argue and so within the month, you were in a new house.

Thinking about it now, you were sure that there had to be some kind of destiny out there, a deity of fate that pulled the strings of existence. There had to be some magnificent tapestry where all the threads of life were woven together just so as to create a beautiful picture. There was no other explanation for how things seemed to work out.

You met Emmet on his first day back at Forks High, this would be his fourth time going to this high school but it had been close to fifty years since he last stepped through their doors. The building looked different but not by much. You were walking into the building, with your arms full of books, looking like the textbook definition of a nerd. Emmett had been walking backward, not really watching where he was going and talking to Edward and Jasper. The two of you had collided. Your books fell to the ground, but you were pulled into his large chest. And thus, the best friendship you had ever had began.

There was only one problem, you couldn’t tell him about anything about your magical abilities. At first, it wasn’t a very big deal you weren’t spending a whole lot of time together and he was easily persuaded into meeting on days when you didn’t have lessons with your mother. As the two of you got closer though, it became more and more difficult to hide. 

When you turned 17, you started having a bit more difficulty controlling your magic. It tended to burst out of you when you were feeling strong emotions, especially anger. You didn’t have a huge temper but it was known to flare occasionally. You got good at lying. And every time you lied to Emmett your heart broke a little bit more. 

It had gotten to the point where you no longer cared about the rules of secrecy or the laws that your kind was bound by. You just wanted him back, you wanted to be yourself with Emmett because if you were being completely honest with yourself, he was no longer just your best friend. You were in love with him, and the thought of losing him because you had to keep hiding things was heartbreaking.

You had no idea that Emmett was feeling the very same way. When he had bumped into you that fateful day three years ago, his eternal existence shifted. You became the center of his world. He craved being near you, having you in his sight, and hearing your heartbeat. Knowing that you were safe and happy became his only goal. He tried so hard to let you take the pace, holding himself back from fully unleashing his feelings on you. But deep down he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last forever. So here he was, begging Carlsie for advice on how to tell you. He didn’t want to enter into a relationship with you that was shadowed by secrets.

If he was going to have you, he would have you being himself, with everything out in the open. 

“Carlisle, I’m telling you. She’s everything to me. I cannot move on without her in my life. She needs to know everything.”

“Son, I know that you think that but-”

“No. Carlisle, she's my mate I know it.”

“Okay. I believe you. If you’re going to tell her you’ll need to make sure that she stays calm. I know that you love her, but humans are unpredictable. We cannot risk getting exposed.”

“I know. She’ll take it well I know she will.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Carlisle asked. Pulling his adopted son into his arms for a brief but strong hug. Emmett didn’t need any more convincing than that, he hopped in his car and immediately made his way over to your house. 

You were upstairs in your room pacing a hole into your carpet trying to think of ways you could tell the boy you loved that you not only wanted to spend the rest of your life with him but that you were also a witch with emotionally charged powers who was going to live much longer than the average human. Your pacing was interrupted by several loud and fast knocks on your front door. 

You raced down the staircase to see who was at the door and when it swung open you were met with the sight of an extremely flustered Emmett Cullen.

“Em, what are you doing here?” 

“Can I come in?” He asked instead of answering you.

“Of course,” you stepped aside and he pished past you, “What’s going on Em? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I have something really important to tell you and I need you to not panic.” 

“Saying that is not going to make me not panic.” You deadpanned. “But I also have something important to tell you so maybe we can take turns?” You suggested. Grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the large couch that took up a majority of the floor in your living room.

“Take turns, yeah.” He muttered to himself. The two of you were sitting close, things touching and staring at each other. Waiting for the other one to make the first move.

“Okay, here goes nothing. I’m, I’m a witch.” Your eyes bounced between your lap where your hands were folded, Emmett’s face to gauge his reaction, and the clock on the wall to count the seconds of silence that ensued.

Finally, “Oh thank god.” Emmett breathed out. 

“What?” You were buffering. What did he say? 

“No, I. That makes sharing my things a whole lot easier.”

“I’m sorry, Emmett how does me telling you that I belong to an ancient race of magic-wielding women make whatever you have to share easier.”

“Because I’m trying to tell you that I’m also a part of an ancient race. Except my race is immortal creatures of the night that feast on human blood.”

You broke into a series of giggles.

“Go figures. The first boy I fall in love with and he’s a vampire.”

“You love me?”

You froze. You definitely did not mean to just blurt that out, let alone in the middle of a self-deprecating moment of sarcasm. 

“Well, if we’re sharing…” You trailed off.

“I love you too.” Emmett’s smile was so wide you were actually convinced that his face would start to split in half. “Is it weird to say that I’m really relieved right now?” He asked

“Depends on why you’re relieved I think.”

“I was convinced that when I told you you’d never want to see me again. But now I know that isn’t going to happen and I’m just so happy.”

“I’m happy too, Em. I was so tired of keeping secrets from you. It hurt when I lied to you and I thought it was just because you were my best friend but it was so much more than that.”

“C’mere” Emmett grabbed you by the waist and hauled you onto his lap. “You were made for me. I’m never going to let you go.” He whispered into the small space between your faces. You pushed forward and gently placed your lips onto his. Pulling away way too soon for either of your liking. You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, your face pressed against his neck.

“We’ll have forever.”

“Forever sounds good to me.” 

You laughed softly once more and pressed a kiss lightly to the skin of his neck. Forever sounded pretty good to you too.

#Emmett Cullen #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x you #emmett cullen imagines #emmett cullen fluff #emmett cullen oneshot #emmett cullen x plus size reader #emmett cullen imagine #emmett cullen x y/n #emmett cullen x plus size!reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #flufftober #x reader #fluff #twilight renaissance #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction

[shurisbathwater]

𝖯𝖮𝖵 : 𝖬𝖮 𝖶𝖠𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖮𝖭 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖧𝖮𝖶 𝖳𝖮 𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖠 𝖦𝖴𝖭.

𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤𝖲 :: VERY MUCH Suggestive, black fem reader.  rivals/ enemies to lovers (??)

When I tell u I was trying not to bust while writing thi– its funny how little is more lmao. Anyway enjoy, I have more fics of wifey that I'm working on so I hope u can accept this for now 🤭💕

𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖬𝖴𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖣 curses under your breath as you shot the gun once again, not getting the target for what felt like the millionth time. You throw the gun in frustration and sigh. You  begin to sluggishly walk back to your cabin in defeat.

"Need help?" A voice asks you. You freeze in your tracks as you realise who the voice exactly is.

Mo Washington. The only person you could ever go weak over, and she knows that. She enjoys seeing the effect of the power she has over you, and how her touch could simply make your knees weak in an instant.

"Its all good, I was done here anyways..." You mutter, your back still to her, letting your pride get the best of you. You could never, ever, admit to her of all people that you needed help. Never. She'd hang it over your head for eternity.

"You shouldn't lie to me, you know?" You hear her footsteps coming towards you, and the hairs on your neck rise in an instant.

You felt her presence behind you, and your breath hitched as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"I see right through 'ya." She breathed into your neck, chuckling lightly as you trembled under her, though she hadn't even touched you. She sees the gun laying on the ground and puts it into your hand, looking into your eyes for a split second. She walks back behind you.

You both knew the sexual tension you had with eachother, but yet none of you would act on it. It was better this way you thought.

You manage to aim the gun with your shaky and clammy hands, looking straight at your target. "See..thats where you're going wrong." She says as she stands behind you, you feel her heavy breathing on your neck, and your knees begin to give out.

She feels your knees going weak, and she grabs your hips to pull you up again. "Hey, now." She chuckles as she snakes her arm on top of yours, guiding you.

"I want you to aim right there, can you do that for me?" She teases, whispering into your ear.

You nod slowly in response.

She rests her chin on your shoulder, her fingers gliding on top yours. You breath out shakily as you feel your mouth going dry, and the spot between your legs pulsating.

Unknowingly, begin to lean back and rest into her touch. "There you go, you got it." She praises as she slowly guides you to aim, her thick accent buzzing through your body.

You pull the trigger and it instantly lands on the target, and you breathe out in relief, finally getting it, with Mo's help.

"I knew you could get it. You just needed a little help." She jokes, and you roll your eyes in response.

"Go away, Mo." You say as you cross your arms. " dont I deserve a thank you?" She raises her brows as she shrugs.

"Thank you. Now go away." You push her playfully.

"Let me know if you need anymore of my ... help." She smirks as she leans in closer to you. "I'll be waiting." She winks as she walks away, looking back at you once more.

Now If yall want more, I can gladly write more of them bc they're givinggg 😩 anyways what did yall think?

#cocos shenanigans <3 #Mo Washington #Mo Washington x reader #moses washington #Mo Washington x black fem reader

[andreafmn]

Hiii I saw you wanted requests ! Can you do a jasper and reader ? She’s a vampire a lone vampire she’s powerful and keeps to herself it’s not that she doesn’t like others but she gets annoyed easily lol until she runs into Alice and her mate

With a little convincing (because Alice see’s she’s going to get along with her and rose so well) she is brought to the cullens resident and meets her mate jasper having given up on finding his one and only so long ago has a hard time accepting his mate

She stubborn and has attitude so she grabes him by his jaw and makes him look her in the eyes and tells him I’m not going anywhere and your stuck with me so deal with it and fluff

Word Count: 3.8K

Story Description: A self-proclaimed 'lone-wolf,' (Y/N) had always walked through life on her own. As much as she wanted it, she could never find the right fit among other vampire covens. But when she decides to cruise through Forks, Washington she meets the famous Cullen family and their resident brooding blonde with a pessimistic point of view toward his love life. It might just take a stubborn vampire to change his mind.

A/N: I really hope I did your request justice and that you like it 💖 loved doing a Jasper request, but really missing those Rosalie ones now 😬

TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST

Sealed with a Kiss

“Well, it’s not like I wanted to be here anyways,” (Y/N) yelled out as she slammed the door of the house of yet another clan.

It was usual for her to spend limited time amongst vampire families. She’d met so many clans that had been keen on having her become a part of them. Yet as much as she wanted to belong somewhere, (Y/N) had yet to find a group that didn’t get on her last nerve in a short amount of time.

She had grown used to it – the lonely nights, the quiet trips, the constant looking over her shoulder. She had done it now for over eight decades and as time went on, she found it easier and easier to do it. Her abilities allowed for her nomadic lifestyle. Sole vampires were not known for lasting long by themselves, but no one could do what she could. (Y/N) had gotten out of some dangerous situations thanks to her illusions. No one can get you when they don’t know what they’re looking for, she would say. The girl could fend for herself, and she excelled at it.

But she wanted it. She wanted to find a place where she belonged… the someone she belonged with. Every coven she went through she’d hear the stories of how the mates had found each other, how eternity did not seem so long when they had that person by their side. Knowing there was someone out there that was destined to be by your side.

(Y/N) was okay in her own company for now. Traveling from one side of the globe to the other, becoming a story in the mouths of strangers. She entered people’s lives for a second and disappeared by the next. That’s how she had lived since she had been turned, that’s how she expected to go on for the rest of her life.

“Hi there!” A perky voice had startled her. A task only another vampire could do.

(Y/N) was standing at a clearing, sure she was alone until she was faced by a pixie-like girl and a man with prince charming hair. They were different from the vampires she had come across before. It was their eyes. The golden hue of distinction between their group – vegetarians, so to speak. She’d only heard of one family that was famously known for following such a lifestyle.

“You’re Cullens,” (Y/N) observed. She had meant for it to come out as a question. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Yes! I’m Alice,” she started. “And this is my partner, Luca. We’ve been expecting you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m guessing you’re the fortune teller of the Cullens.”

Alice giggled at that. “It’s actually precognition, the psychic phenomenon of seeing, or otherwise becoming directly aware of, events in the future.”

“Alright,” she responded with a hint of annoyance. “And is that supposed to mean anything to me?”

“Well, Alice had a vision of you a little over a week ago. She knew you’d be coming here,” Luca explained. “We believe you are going to be an integral part of our family.”

“Look, as great as it would be to be part of a unit, I don’t do families,” (Y/N) said. “I’ve had my fair share of vampire clans, and I’ve left every single one.”

“The difference this time is that I know how everything will play out (Y/N).” Alice gifted the girl a warm smile, the kind that would draw anyone in.

“You crave belonging,” Luca stated. His eyes were trained on her. They had changed from their golden color to a bright emerald green. It was the first time (Y/N) had seen a power like this. She was transfixed by his gaze, but not by the peculiarity of his power, but because she felt frozen in place. “You push people away at the first sign of discomfort because it’s easier than allowing others to truly get close to you. People tick you off quickly, and that’s why you’ve led a life of solitude. Yet you deeply desire the feeling of inclusion. It’s not that you don’t like people, it’s simply that you haven’t found the ones you belong to.”

“Didn’t know I signed up for a therapy session,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Desire intuition?”

“Correct,” he smiled.

“Can’t get anything past either of you, huh?” The pair chuckled and shook their head no. The girl let out a sigh of defeat – they had her down to a t. “I guess I could give it a try.”

“That’s all we can ask for.”

The girl joined the pair in their drive back to the Cullen house.

Alice could not stop smiling as she stared at their guest through the rearview mirror. She recalled the images she had seen in her head. (Y/N), Rosalie, and her laughed as they tried on stupid outfits; them going into town and pretending to be college kids out for a drink; spending endless nights talking about their adventures and their past lives. She couldn't wait for the sisterhood the three girls would share as honorary Cullens.

Truth be told, the short vampire had another motive for being so insistent. Jasper.

Jasper Cullen had spent over a century and a half in search of his mate. Much like Edward and Rosalie, Carlisle had thought Alice would have made the perfect pair for the young vampire. Yet as hard as they tried, neither could see the other as anything more than a friend – a sibling, more like it.

Then, Luca Carmichael came into her life. A boy with hair that seemed to defy gravity and was turned after he’d asked Carlisle to do it. Just a week prior he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer, barely days of life left, and Carlisle had given him the option of eternal life. He had just turned twenty years old and had far too much life to live. He’d been grateful to have some time to put his affairs into order, just in time to go into a surgery where he would “die” on the table. At least, his family would have closure and he could go on living for days on end.

The day after his “surgery” Carlisle brought him to the family home where he met Alice Cullen, the peppy girl who could light up any room she walked into. Not long after the pair fell in love, tying their lives together in a wedding ceremony. The moment they had met, they both knew they were destined to be together for the rest of eternity.

And that’s what Alice wanted for Jasper as well. The poor boy had led a tortured life, and she could not come up with someone that deserved love more than him – maybe (Y/N) was a close second. What she was sure of was that both of them had been waiting long enough to find the person that would make eternity bearable.

 The drive wasn’t long, the car slowing down signaling (Y/N) that they had arrived at their destination. It was a beautiful residence. The perfect blend between modern architecture and the ageless flora surrounding it.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Alice perked. “Everyone’s waiting inside.”

“Yeah, humble,” (Y/N) thought. But said, “Let’s get this over with.”

Luca opened the door for both girls, standing behind them as they made their way inside the house. And just like Alice had mentioned, the whole family was waiting around in the immense white living room. For the first time, (Y/N) felt intimidated meeting new vampires. Their golden eyes all fell upon her as she passed the threshold, and she couldn’t help but freeze in her step.

“Well, everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Alice announced to the room. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Alice took her hand and pulled her toward all the couples in the room. She started with Carlisle and Esme Cullen, the parental figures of the clan. They both offered her a warm smile, and Esme gave her a tight hug. Then, Rosalie and Emmett. (Y/N) was taken aback by Rosalie’s unnatural beauty and Emmett’s daunting size. The blonde gave the new girl a simple smile, wary of the stranger that had just come into their home. On the other hand, Emmett picked (Y/N) up in a crippling hug that had her tensing up at the sudden contact. After came Edward, Bella, and their daughter Renesmee.

“And this is Jasper,” Alice smiled. “He’s the second youngest, right behind Luca. He does have a special ability – pathokinesis.”

“Sensing and changing emotions,” (Y/N) stated. “That’s handy.”

“It can be at times,” he responded, doing his best to suppress a chuckle that was threatening to spill.

He couldn’t help but be curious about the girl. Alice had mentioned that she would play a big role in his life, one he’d been looking to fill since Maria took his heart and ripped it to shreds. But so much time had passed that he’d given up on the idea of love. Jasper had concluded that no one was meant to spend their life with him, no matter how much he wanted them.

“Welcome to the family, (Y/N),” Luca said. “I hope you find your time with us… life-changing.” 

Before she knew it, six weeks had come and gone. It had been the longest time she’d ever been with a coven without losing her mind. She’d found solace in a friendship between Rosalie, Alice, and her. She was surprised that Rose had warmed up to her in such little time. (Y/N) learned quickly that the blonde’s natural resentment toward new people came from how protective she got of her family. Once her walls came down, the three girls quickly became close friends.

For the first time in her centuries of life, (Y/N) felt like she was part of something — something that made her feel special. She passed every day with a warm feeling in her unbeating heart. She has finally found her people. She has even started adopting their vegetarian lifestyle. And they all had accepted her, welcoming her into their small family as if she’d been there her whole life. All but one person.

Jasper had strayed far from the girl. Rarely engaging in conversation, avoiding being left with her by himself, declining any invitation to go hunt. He was avoiding her like the plague and she had no idea why. (Y/N) felt a strange pull toward the man. As hard as he pulled away, the more she wanted to get closer. Still, nothing she did helped her find some common ground with the boy.

“I just don’t get why he hates me so much,” (Y/N) plopped onto the couch with a thud as Rosalie and Alice giggled at her. “Guys, it’s not funny. I sincerely think he despises me.”

“He does not,” Alice retorted. “He just doesn’t want to accept certain things he knows to be true.”

“Like what, Alice?” The brunette refused to answer, locking away the answer in her mouth. “Seriously, what do you mean by that?”

“You’re so mean, Liz,” Rosalie laughed. “She means that before you came here, she had a vision and…”

Suddenly, Alice jumped from the couch and was covering Rosalie’s mouth with her hand. She erupted in laughter as her blonde sister tried to pry her off. Though, any effort would be unsuccessful since the girl had quite a strong grip.

“Alice, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll get someone else to. You’ve only got two hands.”

“I just don’t want anyone to interfere,” she resigned. “You’re both supposed to get to this conclusion by yourself. And I don’t want anyone meddling and changing the future.”

“But it’s been so long and nothing has changed between jasper and I,” (Y/N) sighed. “Can’t you just push us in the right direction?”

“Nope!” Alice responded as she took off running, a blur of blues and brown disappearing into the forest.

But (Y/N) was stronger, faster, and an excellent tracker. She was able to follow Alice to every corner she tried to conceal herself in. They zoomed from one side to another, trying their best to put a stop to their conversation. Alice wanted things to happen naturally between Jasper and (Y/N). She had seen her best friend be so miserable for so long, she wanted nothing to get in the way of his happiness — not even herself.

At one point, Alice lost track of the direction the other girl was going and did not notice she was headed straight into her. They collided with a loud bang, (Y/N) making quick work to pin Alice to the ground.

“Please, Alice!” she exclaimed. “Just tell me what you know.”

“Fine,” she giggled softly as she pushed the girl off her. “I saw the life you’ll have with Jasper. You two, you’re meant to be together.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the snort that came out before she started laughing. “Me and Jasper?” she laughed. “He can barely stand in the same room as me, and we’re meant to be soulmates or something? I was thinking friends, but mates?”

“Have you not wondered why you’ve found your place so easily with us?” Alice ignored the girl’s cluelessness. It was an amusing thought but knowing what she knew gave her peace of mind. “You were meant to find us — or we were meant to find you. You’ve always belonged in this family, and you belong with Jasper.”

Realization dawned on the girl. Her whole life she had been searching for the place she fit in, the people she fit in with, and now they were at an arm’s reach. Still, dread fell upon her as she understood just how hard Jasper was working to avoid her. But (Y/N) was nothing if not determined, and she would get him to pay attention to her.

She devised a plan with Alice and Rosalie to force them into close confines. If they were stuck in the same space, they would have to talk eventually.

“Jas, can you help me with something in the office?” (Y/N) heard Alice call out. She was inside the room, pacing inside as nerves and anxieties flowed through her. “It’ll be very quick!”

The girl heard the man’s footsteps up the stairs, slow, steady, harmonious. He always walked with a melodious stride, she’d noticed. Everything about him was a work of art, as beautiful and as captivating as any masterpiece in a museum. And much like a masterpiece, she could look but she could not touch.

“Alice?” Jasper’s voice rang through the room before the doors closed and locked behind him. “What the hell? Alice?! I’m locked in here!”

“That’s on purpose,” (Y/N) said meekly. “I asked her to do this.”

“(Y/N), I-I… what’s going on?”

“I’d like to ask you the same thing,” she retorted.

“What ever could you mean?” Jasper stammered. “It was unknown to me that there was anything going on between you and I.”

“And that’s the problem, Jasper,” the girl breathed. “I have been here for months now, and we haven’t had a single conversation beyond passerby chats and one-worded answers. We both know we’re meant for much more than that.”

“I don’t think I am meant for much anymore,” he chuckled dryly, turning from (Y/N)’s burning gaze. “After a century and a half of being by myself, I’ve renounced myself to solitude. No vision from Alice could change that.”

“But I’m here now, Jasper,” she reached out. “Aren’t I proof enough?”

“Alice’s visions change. I’ve seen it happen many times,” he continued. “Just because you’re here now doesn’t mean you’re permanent. I mean, you’ve said it yourself, you don’t last long with families.”

“You and I both know you’re being absolutely stubborn.” (Y/N) was growing desperate. The more she tried to break down his walls, the harder she hit herself against them. “What is it gonna take for you to at least give me a chance?”

“Look, (Y/N), I’m sure you are a very nice girl and someone out there is the right person for you,” Jasper sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, the conversation becoming far too personal for his liking. “It simply can’t be me. I think it would be best if you just moved on, (Y/N).”

The blonde started to mess with the door’s lock, knowing his way expertly around the house. But before he could open the door completely, his back was slammed against the massive wooden doors. (Y/N) was closer to him than she ever had been before, he could feel her unnecessary breath on his perfect face. She was strong, stronger than any opponent he ever faced. It surprised him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jasper,” she said. His jaw was held firmly by her hand, forcing him to stare directly into her eyes and nowhere else. “I finally understand that my place is here, and I know it is by your side. So whether you like it or not, you are stuck with me. It’s about time you deal with it.”

In a surprising turn of events, Jasper allowed himself to feel her emotions — how pure and intense they radiated off her. He was overwhelmed with the rush and did something completely uncharacteristically. The man flew his hands up to her face and pulled her into a deep and passionate kiss.

The sudden action startled (Y/N), but it didn’t take long before she melted into the man’s embrace. He’d leaped from avoidance to a very physical display of his affection.

What was unbeknownst to the girl was that Jasper was always listening. A trait he’d used as Major, Jasper always kept an ear to the ground. Whilst she opened up to his family members, he was gathering knowledge. To her, he was still a complete stranger. But he already knew why they fit just right.

“Well, that was a quick turnaround,” (Y/N) chuckled as they separated. “I should have locked you in a room a couple of weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you away this whole time, (Y/N),” he said, a little of his southern accent slipping through as he let his guard down. “I have never had the best luck in matters of the heart – some could say I’ve had the worst luck. It was easier for me to simply give up and abandon any idea of a romantic partnership. Building up walls seemed to be the rational thing to do. Even when Alice revealed her vision, I went out of my way to convince myself it wasn’t real – even as you walked through the doors. Distancing myself from this situation was easier than opening myself up to the possibility of heartache. If I allowed myself to be close to you and you then chose to leave, I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Mr. Cullen,” she grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

They weren’t sure when they fell in synch with each other, but it wasn’t long before the pair was inseparable. No longer were they considered individuals, much liked the rest of the family, they were now known as (Y/N) and Jasper – where one was, the other was always close.

As time passed, the two grew closer and closer. Confessing to each other the sins of their past lives. Who they were, who they used to be, who they wished to become. Yet, neither noticed they were falling for each other.

For Jasper, it started when he felt comfortable. Whenever he was with her, he felt the same way he’d make others feel. There was a calmness that fell upon him. Where he was usually on edge and the bloodthirst taking over his sense, now there was simply her. (Y/N) brought upon Jasper the necessary component to anchor him to the moment. She made him feel in control – behind her eyes she didn’t hold the worry and pity his family always had. He felt seen.

(Y/N) didn’t recognize the change at first, but everyone else did. The girl was less sarcastic, less snappy – just less. She involved herself more with the Cullen family, immersing herself in their lives and their stories. Then she noticed she stopped feeling trapped. The need to escape and disappear had dissolved from within her. She finally found the space where she belonged, the arms she fit between, the life she had longed for.

“Is this how everyone feels?” (Y/N) blurted out. Jasper and she were laying on the ground in a clearing, their eyes studying the starry night sky.

“What do you mean, darling?” Jasper chuckled. She played with his pale fingers, trailing up his forearms, tracing the scattered scars that lived there. When others touched his bare arms, he’d flinch at their touch. But not with (Y/N), never with her.

“Love,” she confessed. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. I’ve been going through life thinking I knew what happiness was, but during these months with you by my side, I now know I was merely having a taste. I’m in love with you, Jasper. And for the first time, I’m not afraid of that feeling.”

Jasper propped himself on his elbow, using his free hand to brush away some hair from (Y/N)’s face. His lips traced hers, a mere ghost of a touch to the flesh. There was a glistening gaze behind their eyes, a smile stretched against their faces.

"I’m in love with you too, (Y/N),” he whispered. “Completely and irrevocably in love with you.”

They closed the distance between them, savoring the moment with their mouths. Their arms wrapped around each other, leaving no space in between.  They rolled around the grass, engulfed in a fit of laughter and kisses. At that moment, they were sure the world did not exist. It was just them and nothing more.

It’s funny how life simply happens to you, (Y/N) thought. She had gone through decades of life feeling lost and unwelcomed, hoping for the day she could finally feel at peace. The girl had built up her walls, her defenses the only thing protecting her heart against reality. All it took was an impromptu trip to Forks, Washington for her life to fall on the track it was always supposed to be on.

“Where are we?” Jasper broke her out of her thoughts.

The scenery around them had transformed, and (Y/N) knew exactly where they were. Her brain had shared a vision between them. “This is my favorite place on earth,” she smiled. “It’s where I used to go to when I felt lost. The place where I’ve always felt safe.”

“Used to?”

“That place is now with you,” she responded. “This is now just a beautiful memory for me.”

“No,” he chuckled.

“No?”

“This will now be the place where I will promise before everyone we know to be by your side until forever ends,” Jasper smiled. “If that sounds like something you’d like, darling.”

“I would love nothing more,” she grinned. “You know, Jasper, that means you’ll be stuck with me for a very long time. Do you think you can handle that?”

“From now until the end of time,” Jasper returned the grin. “That I will promise you.”

A promise he sealed with a kiss.

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#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #fan fiction #fanfiction #andreafmn #twilight #writing #edward cullen #jasper hale imagine #jasper cullen imagine #jasper whitlock imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #reader insert #request #bella swan #alice cullen #rosalie hale #rosalie cullen #emmett cullen #fluff #romance #renesmee cullen #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #bella cullen #twilight imagine #sealed with a kiss #follow

[thetriumphantpanda]

Stolen | Marcus Pike (Day One)

Series Summary | A week on from the biggest museum theft in history, you find yourself shipped to D.C. to track down the most important British archaeological artefacts, stolen from right under your nose. You didn't plan on Special Agent Marcus Pike getting under your skin in the process. Special Agent Marcus Pike didn't plan on falling for you either.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Archaeologist/Curator F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4k

Warnings | Marcus being the biggest and best gentleman ever, some flirting, food consumption, but nothing else I can think of.

Authors Note | OKAY. So, I watched The Mentalist and IMMEDIATELY knew I needed to give this sweet boy his happy ending, so here we are. This fic is super self-indulgent so I apologise in advance. I'm currently completing my master's degree to become an archaeologist so that's where this really comes from. This is a reader insert and whilst there will be very few physical descriptions in this fic, it is assume reader is British, although not explicitly stated, and she has the nickname 'Jones' - guess where that one came from? 👀 If you like this then please consider reblogging, commenting or popping into my ask! I'd love to hear from you all! And a massive thank you to my darling @morning-star-joy for being the best beta for this fic, ilysm.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The ticking of the clock is starting to annoy you. It’s silent in the room, three people, including you, sat around waiting for the appearance of the team of people who were hopefully about to make all your problems go away. They’re late, which is even more annoying, because every second lost to waiting for these people are seconds lost trying to locate what had been stolen from you. 

You pull at the dry skin around your thumbnail, pulling it a little too far, drawing blood. You suck the side of your thumb into your mouth to stem the bleeding which helps, before you’re checking the watch on your wrist, annoyance bubbling beneath your skin. Fifteen minutes late and counting. 

Your assistant is sitting next to you, writing God knows what in her notepad. Normally her eagerness to please and her exceptional organizational skills were welcome by you, but the scratching of her pen on the paper is just adding to your irritation. Sat next to your assistant Lizzie, is Peter, an aging Metropolitan Police officer who is no doubt completely out of his depth. He’s starting to bald, and age had not been kind to his face, which is wrinkled and makes him seem far older than he already is. When you’d first met a week ago, he’d introduced himself and told you he hoped this would be his career defining case to crack because he was less than a year away from retirement and his hefty pension. 

What he had wished to be an easy case had turned into something much more complicated than anyone could have imagined, which is why the three of you were now sitting in a glorified glass cage in Washington D.C. Waiting for someone to hopefully help crack the case and crack it quickly. Although your boss wasn’t here, you could feel him breathing down your neck. 

Another look at your watch and it’s now twenty minutes late. 

“This is ridiculous.” You mumble, turning in your seat to look around at the office outside of the meeting room you were in. 

Men in suits wandering around with folders in their hands, women sat at desks typing their way through reports. There’s what you assume to be an intern walking hastily through the bank of desks, dropping mugs of coffee down to people who don’t even acknowledge his presence. Then, you spot two men walking towards your meeting room with purpose. They’re deep in conversation with each other, one holds a similar manila file as the rest of the office, the other, older and more handsome is the one who pushes open the door. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” God his accent is jarring, what you wouldn’t give to be back in London, surrounded by your own people, “We were just catching up on the files.” 

Pete is the first to stand, he shakes the hand of the older man who introduces himself as Marcus Pike, head of the Arts Crime division here in DC. The younger man is Steven, his partner. There’s already a strange air of respect between the men, law enforcement officer to law enforcement officer, even if they do work on completely different sides of the ocean. 

Lizzie introduces herself quietly until they fall to you, “Nice to meet you both,” You say stiffly, reaching out to shake their hands and tell them your name, “I’m the Curator of the department of Britain, Europe and Prehistory at the British Museum, I’m hoping you might be able to help us.” 

Marcus motions for you all to take your seats, taking hold of the folders from Steven, “We’ve read the files but maybe you could take us through what happened?” He’s directing the question toward Pete, because of course he is, but Pete is deferring to you. 

“About a week ago,” You begin, opening your own files, “There was a break-in at the British Museum as I’m sure you’re aware from your own files,” You shift some papers around to find the clutch of photographs, “Highly sophisticated from what Pete has been able to tell us – the thieves managed to cut out CCTV coverage and the alarms before they even entered the museum, which meant no-one knew anything was wrong until I came in the next morning to find half of my collection gone.” 

“What exactly was taken?” Marcus asks, thumbing through his files to find the answer that obviously isn’t there – if this lot can’t put together a case file properly, how the hell are they going to help you? 

“The most recognizable would be the Sutton Hoo helmet,” You slide a photo of it across the table to him, “Anglo-Saxon, incredibly important archaeological find, along with this gold belt buckle from the same collection,” Another photograph is slid across the table to him, “And this purse lid and the collection of coins found within it.” The final photograph is passed to him. 

“You have any leads?” Marcus speaks, again mainly towards Pete, who again, defers to you. 

“We managed to pick up this CCTV from the pub across the road, which shows the group of people loading the items into a van,” You slip the print outs across to him, “Pete and his team managed to track the van to a depot just outside of Heathrow airport, that was raided less than twenty-four hours after the heist, but it was empty,” you sigh, sliding more grainy CCTV printouts over the table, “Then we’ve picked them up getting a flight here to D.C. but after that, the trail has gone as far as we can follow, hence why we’re here.” 

This time Marcus speaks directly to you, “Any idea on motive?”

You shake your head, “We can’t figure it out if I’m being honest,” You massage your temple, a familiar ache brewing behind your eyes, “We know a lot of our collection in the museum is contested, the Benin Bronzes and the Parthenon Marbles for example, countries have been calling for repatriation of their items for years, but this is all British, everything they took belongs in that museum, so apart from it being a massive fuck you to us, we don’t know.” 

Marcus and his partner are silent as they study the photographs you’ve given them so you decide to keep talking, “All of these items are instantly recognizable too, the second they appear on any market, black or otherwise, we’re going to know about it, so it can’t be about selling it for money either.” 

Marcus is nodding in understanding, “It’s not a lot to go on,” he shrugs, turning to Pete, “Do you have the flight number you tracked them on?” Pete nods, slipping a bit of paper across the desk to Marcus, “We’ll have a look at the CCTV on our end and see if we can pick up the trail here, in the meantime, Pete feel free to make yourself at home here, we can get you a desk set up so you can work alongside us,” He turns to you, “I’m assuming as Curator of such a large collection you have work to be doing whilst you’re here too,” His tone is dismissive which has rage pooling inside you, “We’ll call you if we have any news.” 

“This case is my number one priority,” You interrupt, “I want to be as closely involved in this as Pete is.” 

It’s Marcus’ partner who is speaking now, “With all due respect ma’am, this is a job for law enforcement, these heists can get dicey, and we wouldn’t want you putting yourself in any unnecessary danger when we’re more than capable of handling this ourselves.” 

“Please,” You snort, “I was an archaeologist before this, I’ve worked in literal war zones, so don’t talk to me about unnecessary danger,” You stand, noticing that Marcus’ expression softens a little, “I want a daily meeting on the progress of the case starting tomorrow morning so I have something to report back to our board of directors, and I want to be present when you follow any leads out in the field, these items are incredibly fragile so I want to be the only one to handle them when we find them, understood?” 

Marcus nods his head, giving into your demands, “We can meet every morning at ten for a progress report if that works?” 

You nod and start gathering your belongings, noticing as Lizzie follows suit. Pete is also standing, smoothing out his uniform as he shakes the boys’ hands again, letting them know he’ll walk the two of you out before coming back up to get on with some work. 

“I want to know everything Pete,” You say to him when you finally get outside, stress gets the better of you and you’re reaching into your jacket pocket for the packet of cigarettes and the lighter you’d bought at the airport when you’d landed, “I need to know whatever they’re planning – if they leave anything out of those morning briefings I want to know, are we clear?” 

You think you might actually scare Pete judging by his expression, “Of course,” He’s stuffing his hands in his pockets as you light the cigarette and take a long drag, “I’ll keep my ears open for anything.” 

You check your watch as you take another drag of the cigarette, “I’ve got to get back to the hotel for a check in with Hartwig, you’ve got my phone number,” You direct to Pete, “Anything happens, give me a call.” 

He nods in understanding and is taking his leave as quickly as he can, leaving you with Lizzie to wait for a cab. 

“I really do hate Americans sometimes,” You mumble, “The biggest theft from a museum, possibly ever, and no sense of haste in them at all.” 

“At least he was cute.” She shrugs, and your eyes are going wide, “What? I’m just saying if we’re here for the foreseeable future, it’s nice to have something to look at whilst we’re here.” 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” You try and say sternly, but chuckle anyway, Lizzie had become a fast friend in the year she’d worked for you, “Is your jetlag killing you as much as mine?” She nods, “I don’t think there’s much left for either of us to do once I’ve caught up with the team back home, so just take it easy for the rest of the day, yeah?” 

You ride in a cab together to the hotel, bidding each other goodbye with flimsy plans to meet for dinner if neither of you fell asleep before then. The room you’d been given was huge, king size bed, a bathroom that not only had a full walk-in shower but a bath as well, a desk that you’ve already made into a makeshift workstation, laptop currently plugged in and charging. There was a lovely view out of the window, but it was one you couldn’t fully enjoy, wondering where in this city, if anywhere, your precious artefacts were being kept. 

There was a chime from your laptop, signaling someone had joined the video call, so you set yourself up and accept the invite. Within seconds there were three or four squares of your colleagues back in London, and Hartwig Fischer, the museum’s director, who skipped all pleasantries and headed straight into wanting an update. 

“We just finished meeting with the Art Crimes division here,” You begin, “We’ve brought them up to speed on what was taken and where Pete and the Met had managed to get to with the investigation, we’re working with two agents who have said their first port of call is to see how far they can trace the gang from the airport here and then take it from there.” 

“And I assume you’ve stressed the importance of this collection to them?” Hartwig is speaking now, “It’s imperative we get them found and back where they belong as soon as possible.” 

“I did,” You nod, noticing the roll of the eye that your boss, Mark, gives at his question, “We’ll have progress meetings here in D.C. with the team every morning at ten, so I’ll schedule calls with all of you at around four each afternoon your time, but I’m afraid that’s all I have to update on.” 

Everyone says a mumbled goodbye and you’re about to close your laptop when an email pings into your inbox from Mark. He’s been a good boss to you since you made the premature switch from archaeological field work to curatorship nearly three years ago, always had your back and had supported your ideas for displays and conservation. As a man who had spent his entire career working up the Museum’s staff structure, you were somewhat of an enigma – archaeologist turned curator, he’d affectionately taken to calling you Jones, after Indiana Jones, which, whilst it had annoyed you at the beginning, was now the best term of endearment you could come to expect from him. 

Doing a great job already, Jones. I know you’d rather be here than the States but we’ll hold the fort. Go get em. All best, Mark. 

You smile but choose not to reply. Instead, you toe off your shoes and shed your suit jacket before climbing onto the bed. You set an alarm on your phone for an hour from now, hoping that Lizzie would do the same so you could have company for dinner later, before falling into a fitful nap, full of images of your precious antiquities in various states of damage and decay. 

When you wake from your nap it’s clear that you’ve slept through the alarm you set. It’s dark outside and you can see through the window that the city outside is lit up. You roll over and check your phone. Three texts from Lizzie who obviously hadn’t been as lucky as you to fall asleep. 

Dinner? I didn’t manage to fall asleep. 

Taking from your silence you did, I’ll wait. 

Okay, I’m starving so I’m going out to hunt for food, speak later. 

Then there are two missed calls from a number you don’t recognize. It’s an American number, so you’re dialing back before thinking, just in case you’ve missed an important development in the case. It takes three rings for someone to pick up.

“Agent Pike.” 

“Oh, hello, I just woke up and had some missed calls, so I was just checking in.” 

You can hear some shuffling on the other end of the phone and then the background noise dissipates, “Sorry, should have known jetlag would have been a killer for you,” You hum in agreement, “Listen, I didn’t upset you earlier, did I?” 

What an odd question. 

“Marcus, I don’t know you, how could you upset me?” 

“I don’t know,” You think you can picture him shrugging on the other end of the line, “Felt like maybe I’d been a bit dismissive of you, if we’re going to work together then I wanted to make sure we’re all good?” 

You really did have bigger problems to worry about that didn’t involve making sure Agent Pike thought you hated him, but he was right, if you were going to work together, you needed to be able to trust each other, “We’re all good, don’t worry, I’m just getting a lot of stress from my side.” 

“I can imagine,” You hear him sigh a little at the other end of the phone, “Have you eaten?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Have you had dinner?” He asks again, “If you’ve been sleeping then I assume not, I can show you the best twenty-four-hour diner in town if you are hungry?” 

You’re about to refuse, wanting instead to order room service and soak in the bath, but then your stomach makes the most unholy noise, and you think that a measly room service portion isn’t going to cut what your body obviously needs. 

“Sure, okay,” You reply, “Where shall I meet you?” 

“You’re in luck, because it’s just around the corner from your hotel, I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour.” 

“Wait, how do you know where I’m staying?” 

“I’m a federal agent, it’s my job to know.” 

You’re about to reply when you hear the familiar tone of being hung up on. You hang up yourself, throwing your phone to the bed as your drag yourself into the shower to freshen up. You’d come straight off the plane and to the offices and then back here to promptly fall asleep and you felt gross. You tied your hair up into a knot on the top of your head, deciding that right now, Marcus Pike was not worth washing your hair for, before standing under the hot stream of water for longer than anticipated. 

You rush to get ready, throwing on the first thing you can pull from your suitcase, which happens to be a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt that you remember wearing to one of your first excavations. Its threadbare by now and you have to wear a t-shirt underneath it to be semi-decent to go in public, but it’s always been like a comfort blanket to you. 

When you exit the elevator and head into the lobby, Marcus is already waiting for you. He’s in the same suit as he had been this morning, clearly coming straight from the office, but he’s left his FBI badge behind thankfully. He stands and greets you with another handshake. 

“I hope you’re hungry,” He speaks as he leads you from the hotel, “I think this is my favourite place in all of D.C. to eat.” 

The walk to the diner is quiet. Marcus is typing on his phone as you walk, lifting his head only to make sure he’s not going to immediately walk into someone or something. He mutters something about emails piling up and a mumbled apology, but it’s not long before he’s guiding you into a diner on the corner of a street and greeting the waitress on the door by name. 

The waitress, who clearly knows Marcus well, is leading you to the very back on the diner and into the last booth they have available. You shimmy into one side and Marcus does the same opposite you. He doesn’t reach for the menu like you do though. If this is his favourite place to eat you can only assume that every person who works here knows exactly what he’s going to get. 

Your point is proven when the waitress brings two mugs of coffee, filling his first. You put your hand over yours so she doesn’t pour any in, “Sorry, can I just get a glass of lemonade please?” 

She smiles at you and nods, taking your mug away. You watch as Marcus adds creamer to his coffee and an unholy amount of sugar, he must notice your face of disgust because he’s smiling, “What?” 

“I just don’t know how you can drink that stuff so late at night,” You shrug, looking down at the menu, “I can’t drink caffeine past three in the afternoon because I’ll be awake all night.” 

“Occupational hazard I suppose,” He takes another sip, “Our team works odd hours a lot, art thieves don’t seem to rest much so this keeps me sharp.” 

You nod in understanding before turning your attention back to the menu. It’s huge, far bigger than any menu you’d see in London, you’re spoilt for choice, “What do you usually get?” You ask. 

“Chocolate chip pancakes,” He grins, “Side of bacon if I’m feeling it.” 

You look at your watch, “At nine at night?” 

“Don’t tell me breakfast for dinner isn’t a thing across the pond?” 

“I mean, I’ve been known to eat a bowl of cereal late, I guess.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” 

When the waitress comes back you decide to follow his lead, chocolate chip pancakes and a side of bacon – when in Rome and all of that. 

“So, have there been any developments today?” You ask, sipping the lemonade through your straw. 

“I’ve got Steven searching the CCTV from the airport, if we can pick them up there then we’ve got a good chance of following them to wherever they might be keeping your artefacts, but it’ll be at least tomorrow morning before we know anything.” 

“Is this what you’ve always done?” You’re not great at making conversation with people you don’t know, but the thought of an awkward silence is too much for you to handle right now. 

“Pretty much, I worked Art Crimes down in Austin for a while and then transferred to D.C. just over a year ago now,” He’s draining his coffee and motioning for the waitress to top him up, “How about you, you said you were an archaeologist before this, right?” 

You nod, “Yeah, worked as a field archaeologist straight out of university, got to travel the world, which was pretty cool, and now I’m confined to the walls of a museum that a lot of people hate these days.” 

“Why the change?” 

There’s a pause for the waitress who drops two huge plates of pancakes in front of you, you have to admit they look pretty bloody good. Marcus covers his in syrup and passes you the jug, you add your own syrup and dig in. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” You can’t help yourself from moaning as you chew on your food. 

“I told you they would be good,” He smiles, digging into his own plate, “So, why the change?” He asks again. 

You shrug your shoulders, “I had an accident, recovery meant no fieldwork, and I had to pay my rent somehow, so this seemed like the natural jump to make.” 

“What kind of accident?” 

You look him dead in the eyes, “Pass.” 

He’s looking at you whilst eating and you think he might press you, but he relents, “So, London then, always wanted to go, is it as good as everyone says?” 

“Probably best not to ask the person that lives there but it’s decent,” You start eating your own food again, “It’s a great city and it’s a lovely place to visit if you enjoy being busy but it can lose its magic when you live there too long.” 

There’s a long silence whilst the two of you continue eating and you can’t stop the way your brain thinks back to Lizzie’s observation. You must admit that Marcus is pretty cute. No. You try and tell your brain, we are not doing this here. But it doesn’t relent, tracing the curve of his nose and how his eyes are the colour you like your coffee in the morning; how his plush bottom lip, shiny from the sticky syrup, is just begging to be kissed. No, absolutely not. Just because you’d spent the last however many years focusing on your career and trying not to die and as a result were the loneliest person you’d ever met; didn’t mean we need to start fantasizing about the very cute FBI agent sat across from us. 

“You alright there?” Marcus’ voice cuts through your thoughts. 

You shake your head to rid yourself of your thoughts, “Yeah, sorry, guess I’m still pretty tired from the flight.” 

“Understandable,” You notice he’s finished his food, “You done there?” 

Your own plate is half finished but there’s no way you can fit anymore into your stomach, so you nod, he motions for the waitress, who clears everything away and brings your leftover pancakes back in a to-go box for you, along with the bill. 

Marcus is reaching for it, but you swat his hand, “What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Paying for dinner?” He says defensively. 

“Don’t be silly,” You murmur, rooting around in your bag for your wallet, “Company card,” You smile, flashing the card from your bag, “If they’ve got me out here chasing after thieves, the least they can do is pay for our food, right?” 

“Remind me to always phone you for dinner then.” Marcus muses, a glint in his eye that has you swallowing deeply. 

Paying is relatively painless once Marcus has explained how to properly tip the waitress, still something that confuses the hell out of you, even once he’d shown you how to do it. You’re standing and gathering your bag as he reaches for your to-go box, “Don’t worry, I won’t steal them, I’ll carry them whilst we walk.” 

“My hands do work, you know?” You tease, and the way his Adams apple bobs as he swallows at the innuendo isn’t lost on you. 

“Just trying to be a gentleman after we got off on the wrong foot earlier.” 

“Are you a gentleman for all the women you barely know, or am I special?” You tease, as he holds the diner door open for you and starts on the short walk back to the hotel. 

“You might joke but you’re not far wrong.” He’s chuckling but there’s an undercurrent of something else to his voice, maybe frustration, which tells you there is much more to Marcus Pike than might first meet the eye. 

It’s another short walk until you’re back in the hotel lobby. Marcus hands you your box of pancakes before he stands awkwardly with you whilst you wait for the elevator to arrive at the ground floor. 

“Well, thanks for showing me the best place to eat when I inevitably forget to do that during the day,” You smile, a genuine one this time, “Hopefully you’ve got some more places to recommend?” 

“You have no idea how long that list is,” He’s got his hands stuffed into his pockets and he’s rocking back and forth on his heels, his nervous habit, you observe, “Maybe if you’re not busy with meetings tomorrow I can show you the best Italian place?” 

Just like you were earlier, you go to open your mouth and decline when you stop. Sure, he’s supposed to be a professional colleague, and an Italian restaurant is a far cry from the diner on the corner, but what would you be doing otherwise? Room service and an overpriced glass of wine followed by no other option that sorting through all your emails. Just because you were here on important business didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy D.C. whilst you did it, and was it so bad if that came with the company of your lead agent who just so happened to make your knees a little weak? 

“Do they have tiramisu and good white wine?” You asked as the elevator door opens, Marcus walks forward with you, putting his hand across the divide so it doesn’t shut prematurely. 

“The best outside of Italy,” He claims, “Not that I’ve ever been, that’s just what the menu says.” 

You laugh, “It’s a date then.”  

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#pedro pascal #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike smut #marcus pike fluff #Marcus pike imagine #Marcus pike x you #Marcus pike x reader #Marcus pike x female reader #Marcus pike x f!reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part Five

Summary: Billy realises the consequences of his actions, and a force pulling him and his estranged friend together | Word Count: 3.2k~ | Warnings: angst, family trauma, mentions of terrorism

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Billy struggled under the oppressive weight of the sweltering heatwave, his every step burdened by leaden feet as he trudged towards the white UPVC door adorned with a stern sticker proclaiming, 'no jehovah’s witnesses.' His fingers, still tender and marred by scabs from the Halal Butcher's incident, faltered beneath the weighty box pressing against his chest.

Beads of sweat trickled down the inside of his arm and along his hairline, not solely due to the stifling heat, but also from the weight of stress bearing down upon him.

As he stood before the door, the box precariously perched on the doorstep, he waited briefly before the door creaked open, revealing Becky's figure, tinged with a hint of disappointment. Her hair, swept back into a wavy ponytail, attempted to combat the humidity, yet her judgmental stance, hand resting firmly on her hip, and the critical scrutiny in her eyes marred any semblance of relief.

Billy couldn't recall ever seeing warmth or solace in her brown eyes; instead, they always held a tinge of reproach. With a pang of self-awareness, he questioned why he subjected himself to such treatment from her.

“You look well,” she stated flatly. Billy’s brows knitted together in annoyance at her attempt to once again beat him while he was down, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Becky didn’t seem to respond to his indifference. 

“This for me then?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at the box perched on her doorstep, taped and labelled ‘Becky’s stuff - bedroom’. 

He almost wanted to roll his eyes. But instead, he sighed and nodded, “Yep, should be the rest of it.”

He watched, not offering to help when she shoved the hefty box somewhere behind the door, “want to come in?”

Billy's heart lurched in his chest, glancing up at her as if to figure out why she'd even offered. She was the one who'd called things off, claiming he was ‘fucking impossible to be around’. 

For a therapist, she was hardly patient with him. A skill he would have thought she'd bought home with her.

And he hated himself that there was a tiny slither of something inside him that wanted to say yes, wanted to have an awkward cup of tea, have break up sex, and leave without ever having to see her again.

And he would have said yes and done just that, if Becky's mum wasn’t twitching the bedroom curtains, trying to make it look as if she wasn't watching him at the front door, staring at him down her nose.

Her parents had never liked him. Claimed their daughter deserved better.

Becky sighed when she got no reply, tapping her manicured fingernails on the door, in a way that made Billy's brain tick.

“Hear she's back.”

He felt his jaw tense and spine straighten, body wound so tight that he couldn't even reply with his voice and simply nodded.

“It was always her over me,” Becky sighed bitterly, shaking her head, without a semblance of emotion in her eyes or her voice, “always has been.”

Billy thought that was the most selfish thing Becky might have said, out of all the things she could have.

In his view, he gave everything to her. His pride alongside it, simply smiling and nodding his head to whatever below the belt comment her parents decided to make at the dinner table.

Turns out he wasn't just a fuck up to his own.

How was he supposed to articulate how he really felt about their relationship? A bond formed in the destruction of another. Where every time Billy really really thought about it, all he saw were the haunting, sad eyes of his friend when hers had abandoned her, the expression she passed him when something he'd said came off cruel and the fallen disappointment he hadn't missed the day she arrived at college, to see Becky in his arms.

It felt like every waking moment of his and Becky's relationship was a reminder of how much he'd given away.

And that even that was crumbling into pieces in his hands.

“Are we done,” he replied, fed up, and in need of a pint.

Becky simply watched him for a moment, shaking her head with a judgemental glare, and replied with a sense of finality.

“Yeah, we're done.”

She had been talking to a therapist of her own, albeit hers was actually helpful.

As she sat in her small, sparsely furnished studio apartment, the murmurs of passing thoughts faded into background noise. With her iPad propped up on the simple IKEA table, she leaned forward, lost in contemplation. The starkness of her surroundings only amplified her despondency. She longed to inject life into the barren space—hang up pictures, lay down a new rug, and finally unpack her boxes to make it feel like home.

Yet, despite her longing, weeks had passed, and the boxes remained stubbornly sealed shut.

“You there?”

She shook her head, “sorry. Miles away.”

Her therapist was a short, stout lady with a grey bob haircut, wearing clunky jewellery and bright, garish colours, and everytime she wrote something down, her bangles clicked annoyingly and her thick, vermilion glasses slipped further down her face.

“You're preoccupied today. Something on your mind?”

Every word that spilled from the therapist's mouth grated on her nerves, each phrase feeling like a patronising pat on the head. It wasn't just the clinical terms or the probing questions, it was the underlying assumption that she needed to be guided through her own emotions like a lost child.

But as she sat there, simmering with resentment, a deeper realisation crept in. Perhaps her aversion to this kind of therapy wasn't just about the therapist's approach. Maybe it was rooted in the void left by her own mother's absence. The woman who was supposed to nurture her through life's trials had been conspicuously absent when she needed guidance the most.

As she contemplated this, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. Anger at her mother's neglect, sadness for the support she never received, and a gnawing ache for the maternal care she craved but never experienced. It was a tangled mess of feelings she had long buried beneath layers of self-reliance and stoicism.

“A lot, actually.”

“Talk to me, start wherever feels most natural.”

The memory of Billy's piercing blue eyes flashed vividly in her mind, like a bolt of lightning in a stormy sky. She could still see him sitting on the worn sofa, his gaze locked onto hers with unwavering intensity as she recounted the events of that fateful day, so many years ago.

Initially, he had staunchly denied the truth, rejecting it with every fibre of his being. But she, perhaps more than anyone else, understood the harsh reality of the situation. She could see it in his eyes, the struggle between disbelief and acceptance. 

He clung to denial like a lifeline, shielding himself from the harshness of the truth. It wasn't that he didn't understand; it was that he couldn't bear to accept it.

She swallowed before answering, “I'm having issues with a friend.”

“Is this the friend you haven't seen in years?”

“Yes, but now I've moved back I…see him a lot more often.”

“And how has that been?”

Fucking awful. She wants to say.

She wants to break down and cry. Wants to shout and scream at Billy, for what he had done and what he was doing to her now.

She picked at the broken nail on her index finger, thinking that if she drove far, far away, would anyone really give a shit?

Would he?

“It's been hard,” is her reply, looking down at her hands, feeling very much in this moment that she shouldn't have said anything.

“Can we change the subject,” she insisted, rubbing her clammy hands on her jeans, catching the sight of her therapist’s expression before the woman looked back down at her notes.

“What about your mother?”

Fuck me, really?

She did resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Got her a place in rehab,” she says quietly, as if telling some great secret, “I can't find it in myself to go to the house often anymore…”

“I assume there is no alternative?” the woman asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

An alternative would be a fine thing.

“No,” she replies, tiredly, “because of the…seriousness of her addiction, there's no other option I can explore, on my own anyway.”

“I see,” the woman replied, the scratch of her biro somewhat irritating, “going back to your earlier point, I think you should take Mr and Mrs Washington up on their offer for dinner. Reconnect. Find some sense of self that you've said yourself, you feel has been lacking for some time.”

Okay, ouch.

“If they have been there for you as a mum and dad otherwise would, I don't see why not.”

Because it feels like I am intruding on Billy's family.

The therapist's words settled like a weight on her chest, stirring a tempest of conflicting emotions within her. To accept their invitation meant delving deeper into a world where she wasn't sure she belonged. It meant acknowledging her own vulnerability, her own need for familial warmth that she had so often denied herself. But it also meant risking the fragile equilibrium of her friendship with Billy, a bond she cherished above all else.

The prospect of imposing herself upon his family, of burdening them with her troubles, filled her with a profound sense of unease. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was an outsider, an interloper in their tight-knit circle. And yet, the warmth in their eyes, the genuine concern they showed for her well-being, beckoned her like a beacon in the darkness.

"I'm afraid," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion, "afraid of needing them, of becoming too dependent, of losing myself in their kindness."

The therapist nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting compassion and empathy.

"It's okay to be afraid," she reassured softly, “it’s what makes us human.”

Billy couldn’t shake the foul mood enveloping him in the days after he’d dropped off the last of Becky’s stuff. The absence of her things in his flat echoed the void in his heart, amplifying his sense of isolation even further from his once-close circle of friends. 

Lana, as she would have done eventually, soon discovered Billy’s vile acts towards the Halal butchers in his alcohol-addled state. And reacted predictably, unleashing a barrage of criticism, labelling him once again as the family fuck up and urging him to recognise that he really knew nothing about what he thought he was protecting.

Despite the newfound camaraderie with a much different group, sparked by the shared grief over Nut’s death, Billy felt the weight of his involvement with them. And while Nut’s death struck Lana the hardest, it also threatened to unravel Billy’s carefully constructed facade of resilience.

His immersion in this movement provided a twisted sense of purpose, one that was consuming him from within like a relentless black hole, leaving behind a hollow shell of his former self.

A day and night spent in the police station only exacerbated his inner turmoil and confusion, providing ample time for his thoughts to fester and mutate into something hateful and blindly judgemental. Yet, even in the face of overwhelming doubt and vulnerability, Billy remained steadfast in his resolve to appear sure, and strong. 

Refusing to let anyone perceive his inner struggles as weakness. 

He stared at his phone, waiting in the queue at the local corner shop to put some money on his gas meter, this thumb idly hovering over her name and the last text she sent him a few days ago.

Her address.

Alarmingly close and yet still felt so far away.

He thought of that day, when he could scarcely believe it was really her in his flat and not some horrific nightmare. When she told him, that it wasn't just a nasty breakup, and that this boy had betrayed her trust so eagerly, and sent around pictures of her to anyone who could receive pictures on their phones at school.

He didn't know what he would have done back then, but has thought about it a lot since.

Billy would like to think he'd beat the ever living shit out of him, expose him and perhaps even push him into submission, so much so he'd have to leave her alone. To be the same hero she had seen in him on that rainy day in Year 4.

The guilt still festers in him, that he had been so tied up in his own thoughts, that he hadn't even noticed the now clear signs, the beginning of a process of behaviours that had been festering for years.

It only served to make him feel more distant from her.

It was by pure chance he ran into Harry and Paddy on the way home down Cally Road (whom she had once referred to as Paddy and Max from ‘Road to Nowhere’. Billy still shudders when he hears the theme tune, having been bombarded with his friends singing it to annoy him during a road trip, slumped in the front seat as the only one who could drive at the time).

“What the fuck is council tax?” he remembered Harry shouting that in the back seat, squished between Abi and Libby with Paddy sat in their footwell, the car roaring with continuous laughter at how clueless Harry had been back then. 

She’d been sitting in the passenger seat, trying her hardest not to laugh. She’d always taken pity on Harry for how undeniably stupid he was. But it appeared even she had a limit.

On yet another hot summer’s day, it was no surprise to see Harry’s arms were stacked high with crates of beer, with Paddy carrying around a more humble Tesco with two bottles of Stella. It stirred a familiar ache in Billy's chest. This casual greeting belied the tension simmering beneath the surface, a silent acknowledgment of the fractured bonds that once bound them together.

“You alright?”

It was a horrible feeling to see Paddy’s face fall once he clapped eyes on Billy, but he nodded all the same, his disappointment palpable, “Y’alright.”

“Where you two off to?”

Harry's attempt at small talk only served to deepen the awkwardness, his strained smile betraying the unease that hung in the air. "Heading to Abi and Libby's for a barbecue.”

Billy's heart sank at the omission, the absence of an invitation a painful reminder of his own estrangement. "Oh, right," he mumbled, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "Tell ‘im I said hello."

Paddy's scoff cut through the tension like a knife, his disappointment searing through Billy's defences. "He doesn't want to know, Billy."

The words were delivered like a punch to the guy and Billy felt as if he recoiled as such, a sinking feeling dragging his heart through his chest. He daren’t question what Paddy was talking about, it was easy to guess why Abi hadn’t invited him, and by extension, Libs.

"Don't you dare ask 'why' either," Paddy's voice was laced with a mixture of sorrow and reproach, his disappointment a mirror reflecting Billy's own self-loathing.

In that pivotal moment, the full gravity of his deeds descended upon Billy with crushing force. He felt unable to grasp the magnitude of it, unable to recognise with painful clarity that he had chased acceptance in the wrong corners of existence. Like scattered ashes carried away by the wind, his shattered relationships slipped beyond his grasp, leaving him to confront the harrowing truth of the toll exacted by his relentless pursuit of belonging.

And in the cold, soulless atmosphere of his flat, unable to shake the idea that his friends were having a good time without him, he stared at the texts his mum sent him trying to organise a family dinner and swiped them away, instead reaching for the contact he had spoken to last.

“Nick Roberts”.

“He didn’t know, Libs”.

Libs, reclining in her garden chair with a cold desperados in hand and a sunhat perched jauntily on her brow, shot her friend a bemused glance. “What do you mean ‘he didn’t know’, was he living under a fucking rock?”

“Oi, fucking language!” cried the Irish-tinged, playful reprimand of Paddy from the narrow kitchen, mingled with the clinking of bottles as he and Abi prepared for a barbecue. She struggled to keep her laugh between her lips when Libby tilted her head back, and gave Paddy a friendly two fingers.

“And what did he say?” Libby asks, pushing her sunhat back up her forehead as Abi brushes past her to fire up the barbeque, the clattering sound of coals and the musty spell ringing a sort of nostalgia.

Of summers spent at Cranstead Fields.

“The usual. He was all 'I'm going to fucking kill him’ and 'why didn't you say something sooner'-”

“Well why would you say anything if you just assumed he knew?”

“Precisely,” she replies, pointing her tall glass of Pimms in Libby’s direction, “but it’s never that simple with Billy is it?”

Libby sighs as she adjusts in her seat, swinging her legs lazily from the sun lounger, the sunlight catching the golden hairs on her legs in a playful dance. “When is Billy ever simple,” she groans.

The lazy afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the garden, painting everything in warm, honeyed tones. Birds chirped happily in the background, their melodies intermingling with the tinny sounds of early 2000s music playing from a nearby radio. Despite the idyllic setting, there was an underlying tension in the air, palpable yet unspoken.

As Abi stepped away from the group, finding a moment of solitude amidst the lively chatter, she couldn't help but feel a heavy weight on her heart. The laughter and banter of her friends seemed distant as she grappled with conflicting emotions.

"Wish it could be different," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "Wish we could've invited him. Feels shitty being here without him."

The 'him' she referred to hung in the air, a lingering presence that cast a shadow over the otherwise sunny afternoon. Billy, once a close friend to all of them alike, now seemed like a distant memory tainted by betrayal and hurt.

Her voice was filled with empathy, a soothing balm to her troubled soul. Libby understood the depth of her pain, the conflicting emotions tearing at her heart.

"I wish things were different too," Libby continued, her gaze softening with compassion. "But we can't change what happened. Billy is the only one who can help himself.”

The words didn’t mean to sound so final. But they still hurt, somewhere deep inside.

Billy is the only one who can help himself.

Why was there this heavy, pit opening up in her chest, a mouth opening and closing, saying, 'that's not true'.

“Babe!” Libby called, snatching Abi’s attention from the football, “the skewers aren’t spicy, are they?”

Abi scratched his chin in mock thought, “by spicy do you mean ‘white people spice’?”

“Paprika is spicy!”

“Fucking hell,” Abi groaned, a palm swiping over his face in exasperation, “Libby. Baby. Darling. I’ve done plain skewers just for you.”

Libs beamed, “thank youuu, you’re the best.”

Though she smiled at their interaction, and was grateful to Abi that he wasn’t offended when she’d kept in touch with Billy (though she did stipulate she gave him an earful) even after what he’d done, something squeezed tightly in her chest, watching them both, and their warm gazes at one another on this clear, light summer’s day.

A sort of tightness, that indicated all she wanted, was some closeness like that for herself.

Ping!

Only half-listening to Paddy trying to convince Harry that Jagermeister tastes like coke, she pulled out her phone and checked the latest message, a number she never deleted.

‘Lana’s on shift, but doing Sunday Dinner with your favourite roast spuds and honey-rasted parsnips. Just us 4 this time, see you then at 6 chick. Lol Val x’

A smile pulled at her lips at the message, and the generation indicative ‘lol’ on the end. Before realising.

Just us 4.

At that moment she felt very much like Harry, gagging and spluttering, having downed more than two shots of jager in one go. But it didn’t take the drink to make her feel sick.

The thought of crossing the threshold into the Washington household, and seeing Billy sat at the dining table, did just that.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires-deactivated20 @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington fanfic #billy washington trigger point #billy washington x you #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington smut #billy washington angst #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #trigger point itv #billy washington x fem!reader

[teecupangel]

Ok so because I was rewatching Disney and DreamWorks imagine if Ratonhnhaké:ton was in like a musical, kind of like Hamilton but in real life. I don't know how that will work and I'm slowly losing cells so yeah : P

“There is something you must know before you leave.” The clan mother, his grandmother, spoke solemnly.

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at her and waited for her to continue.

She was giving him permission to leave their village after all. The least he could do was heed her warnings and take her words to heart.

“These white men have a curse placed upon them.”

“A curse?” Ratonhnhaké:ton repeated with a frown.

“Yes, they are slaves to the music only they hear.” She explained, “We know not why it is so but they would be taken in by the desire to sing and be unable to resist it. No matter the place or the time, when they hear the music, they must sing.”

She stared at her only grandson as she continued, “Your mother and I… we were worried that you have gotten their curse but not once have you ever shown to bear the same curse as they have. That might change once you walk among them.”

She must have seen the disbelief that he was trying to hide for she sigh as she said, “You must be careful, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Who knows what this curse truly entails. We can never be certain that this curse is not simply the inescapable call of music.”

“I… understand.” Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, “I will be careful.”

The clan mother knew that Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t truly understand but she said nothing, only telling him to be careful.

He will understand soon enough.

.

Unorganized Notes:

So my idea is that the Europeans are the ones hit by this ‘curse’. They’re compelled to sing whenever they hear the music and it happens a lot. The natives see this and are like “???” but to the colonizers, it’s just… par of the course.

This does mean those who weren’t born or raised in the parts of Europe like Adéwalé do not sing. He does sing with the crew when it’s sea shanties but any dance number and such? Nope, he was the ‘straight dude’ in the Jackdaw.

This means that Achilles also doesn’t sing so he’s able to tell Ratonhnhaké:ton how it looks and feel like to give him a head’s up.

The Kenways, Edward, Haytham and even Jenny, usually sing very dramatic songs. It shows as the kind of “find my freedom and goal” uplifting songs for Edward, the whole “I want to be me” kind of songs for Jenny and the “villain song that is always the best song in the album” type of songs for Haytham (bonus points for Haytham having his own Gregorian chant backup singers to connote his Templar background).

Ratonhnhaké:ton does not sing but… he does hear the music.

If you want to turn this into a Hamilton crossover, go ahead. That means Ratonhnhaké:ton has to deal with Hamilton’s… everything whenever he has to talk to Washington XD

Whatever is making them sing sees Ratonhnhaké:ton as ‘part’ of the ensemble so you get scenes like Haytham singing a duet with Ratonhnhaké:ton but Ratonhnhaké:ton does not know the lyrics and would rather strip naked and run away from wolves all night long than sing.

The same thing happened to Charles Lee but Ratonhnhaké:ton was busy beating the crap out of him.

The whole confrontation with Washington, Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton ends with Haytham and Washington singing with some ‘dead spaces’ here and there where it’s clear that it was Ratonhnhaké;ton’s turn to sing.

The music in the homestead are always jolly (unless something bad happens) and they always include Ratonhnhaké:ton. Unlike the other times, they don’t try to make Ratonhnhaké:ton sing and Ratonhnhaké:ton just joins in the festivity more or less. Achilles takes the ‘I’m the grumpy one who doesn’t sing’ part in these musical numbers instead.

… Haytham definitely sang a very embarrassing love song that was meant to be a duet to Kaniehtí:io. Kaniehtí:io was amuse. Haytham was embarrassed.

Why are the colonizers singing? Isu BS. Apollo, Bragi and Meret got super drunk and fucked up the ‘latest’ batch of humans to be processed for shits and giggles. They ran away before Yaldabaoth saw them and he’s been so overworked that he just… didn’t give a shit and sent these batch as is.

#ngl #this gave me #the man who didn’t like musical vibes #might be because i just watched nerdy prudes must die XD #is this crack? #look i can’t write song lyrics and stuff #so just imagine them having banger songs #assassin's creed #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #haytham kenway #george washington #achilles davenport #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #i'm not tagging hamilton #since we didn't say this was absolutely a crossover #i only suggested it

[gemini-sensei]

Thinking about Hawk and Moon who live together in a nice big house together. It's just the two of them, they both work - Hawk with kids and Moon on initiatives to save the planet - and they're happy living and throwing little get-togethers all the time. They spend mornings cuddling and kissing before Moon rises to make them breakfast before Hawk has to go to work. Nights are for winding down from the day, maybe ordering takeout and watching a few episodes of their new favorite show. Weekends are for relaxing and spending time together, either lounging around the house or going out to see friends. They live so happily together, it's so nice.

One late Saturday morning, there's a knock at their door. Moon jumps up to get it, always excited to entertain visitors. However, they're not expecting anyone today.

She opens the door and is shocked to find Reader, whom they haven't seen in a while. She went out of town months ago, a transient looking to go everywhere and see everything. Her presence is a shock enough because Moon didn't know if they'd ever meet up again, but it isn't the most alarming thing about her. It's the big, round belly she sports.

Moon lets her in and asks if she can get her anything but Reader declines. Just some water is fine, so Moon hurries to go get her a glass while Reader walks into the living room where Hawk is. When he sees her, his eyes widen - she's a wandering, free-spirited person so he didn't believe they ever hear from her again. Now here she is with one of the biggest bellies he's ever seen and he doesn't know what to say.

She sits down and smiles at him. "Hey."

"Hey..." he lets out, not meaning to stare but he does anyway. "Where have you been?"

"Lots of places. Went up to Washington state, been through a few national parks, hiked the Rockies, stood at the Four Corners," she tells him, all while rubbing her belly.

Moon comes back with the glass of water and Reader thanks her for it. She sits down and it's quiet for a moment as Reader takes a sip.

"So, what brings you back to The Valley?" Moon asks.

"Oh, um," Reader licks her lips and smiles. She looks down at her belly and rubs it more obviously. "This."

Hawk starts to feel nervous. When Reader first walked into the room, he had an idea that he suppressed, but now there was no pushing it away. However, before he jumps to any conclusions, he wants to hear her say it first. He needs that much.

Moon looks at Hawk and he looks back at her, then they both look at Reader.

Moon asks softly, "Are you saying the baby-"

"Babies," Reader intersects. Her nerves start to show. "It's twins... and yes, that is what I'm saying. They're yours, Hawk."

The world feels like it's crashing down. The night they met Reader comes back to mind in full force,l.

They were at a party, drinking and dancing and having a good time. They ran into Reader, quite literally, and spilled her drink all over her. They offered to help her get cleaned up, but she didn't care. Instead, she just introduced herself and laughed with them about the whole thing.

One spilled drink led to finding an empty bedroom, where Hawk watched Reader making our with Moon, and they touched each other and peeled each other's clothes off. They laid on the bed and moaned into each other's mouths while Hawk fingered their pussies and watched the way they pressed their tits together. Moon held Reader and kissed her neck, squeezed her curves and thighs while Hawk fucked her fat pussy. He kissed Reader and got drunk off of her skilled tongue running all over his mouth while she clenched her pussy around his big cock. He felt up her pudgy waist while Moon played with his balls, sucking in them like they were pieces of candy for her to enjoy. He came a bucket's worth in Reader's cunt and when he pulled out, a river of cum ran out. Moon scissored her and made both their pussies frothy with the hot, sticky load. They made out again and Hawk fucked both their pussies, feeling them up as they felt each other up.

They went at it for hours, going as far as to leave the party with Reader and bring her back to their place. It was a wild night that had left them all spent, the ladies boneless on the bed and Hawk's balls empty.

The next morning, Hawk and Moon woke up late to find Reader had gone. She'd left a note saying she was sorry she had to leave but had to catch her bus.

The couple had never done anything like that before and hadn't hooked up with anyone since. It was a one-time thing because no one had ever caught their eye like Reader had. They settled on the idea that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and let it be, though sometimes caught themselves thinking about her; wondering how she was doing and what adventure she was on.

As she sits in front of them once again, hands cradling her huge pregnant belly, they realize what's happened.

Reader always came off as an honest person, sweet as can be, and an adventurer at heart. The night they met, before they hooked up, all she'd talked about was seeing the world and the places she'd already been. The couple thought it was amazing and admired her spirited attitude. It was part of what drew them to her.

Now she sits before them a little nervous, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

Feeling as though she has to further explain herself, she says, "I wanted to tell you guys, but I never got your number. And I did find your Instagram, Moon, but I didn't know how to tell you in a DM. It didn't feel right to do that. And so I kept going and telling myself I'd figure it out, but I never really did. Nothing seemed right except seeing you guys again. You know, telling you in person-"

She gets a little choked up, her nerves and hormones mixing and tears begin to brim her eyes. "And I know I should have told you guys sooner. I know that, and I'm so sorry. You probably think I'm crazy or something, or that the babies aren't yours. But they are. You two are the only people I've hooked up with. I don't usually do that sort of thing-"

She's full-on crying now and Moon goes to her, sitting beside her and hugging her. She holds Reader's head to her chest and soothes her, shushing her gets in hopes she will calm down. She knows it's not good for her or the babies. Hawk joins them and assures Reader that it's okay.

"Hey, we believe you. You've never given us a reason not to," he says. They shared one night together and they don't know a lot about each other in the grand scheme of things but they don't care. That night felt like knowing one another for years beforehand, a connection made that they had no idea could blossom into something so real. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Really?" she asks.

Moon nods. "Yeah. I mean, you did the best with everything you had. You were traveling on your own and making your own journey, doing your own thing only to find yourself pregnant. And you still did it on your own. That's so strong and brave of you."

Reader laughs through the tears. "You know what they say about bravery, it's the stupidest thing."

Hawk slowly and gently puts a hand on her belly, unsure if she'd let him but she does. "Nah, not when it comes to you. You're too smart for that."

It's quiet for a moment, and then Hawk asks a question.

"So, you're about six months if my math is right, right?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling down at her belly. She feels the babies squirming about, likely stirring because she cried and upset them. She rubs her belly and sighs softly, smiling. "Crazy to think about since I look ready to pop."

"I think you look beautiful," Moon says softly, smiling at Reader. She also puts her hand on Reader's belly, having all three of them feeling the little movement of the twins.

Then one of them kicks her hand and Moon can't help but gasp. She grins wide and looks at Hawk and Reader. "They just kicked my hand."

Reader smiles. "Yeah, that's Baby A. She can be a little rambunctious."

"She?" Hawk asks.

Reader nods. She gently moves Hawk's hand away from Moon's and stops at a certain spot. A moment later, a little hand presses back on his palm.

"That's Baby B. He's a little more on the shy side."

Hawk feels like he's going to be the next one to cry. A little girl and a little boy. It's all so much at once but perfect at the same time. He's overwhelmed but happily so.

Moon feels the same way but is taking it in stride. She coos at Reader's belly, giving it kisses as she talks to the babies. She feels so lucky to be a part of this beautiful experience. Her heart is so full of joy, she doesn't know how to let it all out.

In a moment of acting before anything else, Moon turns Reader's head to face her and kisses her. It's a bit of a shock, but Reade quickly melts into it. The kiss isn't too long and they part, only for Hawk to take Reader's face into his hands and kiss her. Their affection leaves her breathless and happy.

All those worries about showing up at their place randomly fade away. In their arms, she knows she has nothing to worry about.

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