#I used to love jumping around and working on different fics all at the same time but now it just makes it harder to write diff chars

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #bruce banner #wanda maximoff

[luveline]

could i request spencer x bombshell!reader where maybe spencer and the team meet reader’s ex boyfriend / a guy she used to be interested in and he’s sooo different from spencer so he assumes her flirting is a joke but really she never had a type until she met spencer n now she’s only into nerdy, sweater-vest wearing sweethearts <3

love ur work sm i only read spencer fics but i read all your characters bc the writing is so intoxicating !!

thank you for your request angel! <3 1k, fem

Spencer looks adorable today. You’re not sure if he knows, but that can be easily rectified. 

“Spencer Reid,” you say sternly. 

He’s immediately wide-eyed and sorry. “What?” he asks, pouting. 

“You have some explaining to do.” You glare, taking your compact from your pocket. You open it, check your appearance, fighting a huge smile as you flick the mirror on him accusingly. “So, what do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I don’t get it.” His eyes jump between the mirror and you. “Sorry?” 

“You should be sorry. Do you see how nice you look today?” He rolls his eyes. “Hey, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”

You and Spencer have known each other for years now, and you love him. You’d die for him easily in the field, and out of it too, but you’re not together and he’s bad at accepting compliments, so he shrugs you off like you’re only teasing him. 

“My handsome partner,” you say. Even if he isn’t your boyfriend, that’s your loophole. You and Spencer get paired for everything these days, because you’re best friends and Hotch has given up on separating you (though professionally there’s no need). “I could eat you.” 

“Still mildly threatening, then,” a voice says. 

You spin in your chair, shocked and a little horrified to find the last person you wanted to see here in Connecticut. “Cory!” you say, knowing he’ll believe you’re enthusiasm if nobody else. 

“Hi, beautiful. You weren’t gonna call me?” 

Your lips pop as you reply, “I was definitely going to, just as soon as we weren’t on the clock. How are you?” you ask, standing to receive the hug you know he’s going to give. 

Cory is… well, he’s gorgeous, though that hadn’t been why you had fun with him when you were here last. He’d seemed nice enough and plainly interested in you at the time, and you’d been sort of lonely, so really he was a necessity of the soul rather than a want. Plus, he was very rich. 

Gorgeous he may be, but Spencer Reid he is not. You don’t deny it to yourself —the genius behind you has completely changed your type, the kind of man you vy after, and if you’re honest, he’s the one for you. So hugging Cory and pretending you’re going to call him for drinks after the case is over isn’t easy. You lie rather than reject him.

“He seemed nice,” Spencer says in the awkward silence Cory leaves behind. 

“Sure!” you say, blowing out a hot breath. “Was I embarrassing myself? I didn’t expect to see him.” 

“You were the same as usual.” 

You tilt your head back as the door opens again, worried it’ll be Cory back for a last word. Emily smiles at you knowingly, a bag of takeout in hand. “God, did you see that?” she asks, eyebrows rising. “He was perfect.” 

“If you like the Greek god motif,” you joke. 

Spencer’s frowning at his files when you turn back to him. “Spence, what’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Mm? Nothing.”

“You sure?” you ask. 

He maintains that he’s okay as the rest of the team flood in for lunch. You pretend to believe him, not sure what you’ve done to upset him but willing to figure it out. You unwrap his food for him and place his plastic cutlery on a napkin as you know he prefers, sorting through the cup drinks to find his diet lemonade. “Here, handsome,” you say, touching his shoulder gently as you sit down next to him. 

He bristles. 

“Spencer?” you ask. 

He looks around the table. Hotch and Rossi are talking about something with shared smiles, while JJ and Morgan debate the case. Emily’s on her phone with a straw between her lips. They aren’t listening, and so he says, “It’s not a fitting nickname.” 

“What, handsome? That’s not a nickname, it’s a pet name, and it’s true. You’re one of the most handsome guys I’ve ever seen,” —you laugh and grab his elbow when he shakes his head— “are you kidding? Spencer, you could be a model. I’ve told you this a hundred times. You have amazing cheekbones, just dreamy, and your lips–”

“Oh, god, please don’t start,” he says, covering his face with both hands. He sounds like he’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Hotch shoots you a don’t tease look. You send him a vehement I’m not back, waiting for him to look away before you prod Spencer again. “You’re so cute, Spencer, you don’t get it.” 

“I don’t wanna be cute, cute isn’t your type–”

Your eyes flare. “What would you know about my type, Spencer? Is this– is this about Cory?” 

“Of course it is,” he says, face pink as he drops his hands. 

“Spencer, he is not my type.” 

“But you dated.”

“One date. And that was before I realised I liked dorks in sweater vests,” you say. You’re both acting like this is half a joke, a skit, in case you’re overheard, but you’re also both well aware that it’s serious and vulnerable and flustering to confess certain things right here and now. Too bad it has to be done. “I miss your glasses, babe, they really added to your charm.” 

Spencer shakes his head, picking up his styrofoam boxed lunch to ignore you. 

You sidle close to him, your pinky finger rubbing the slightest hint of his bare wrist. “Wanna get drinks with me tonight? I need a cover story in case Grecian Cory tracks me down. And, you know you get that really cute blush when you drink. What do you say?” 

“No,” he says with a smile, which means yes in this instance.

You kiss his cheek, giggling at the lipgloss left behind. “You’re my type, handsome.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff

[4ngel-inc]

𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — THEY CATCH YOU MASTURBATING ᡴꪫ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

notes: i've been so burnt out on longer fics so here's some short headcanons !!

warnings: fem reader, pet names, submissive reader in some, inexperienced akutagawa for his ᰔ

DAZAI is all for joining in when he finds you rubbing your sensitive little clit on the couch, a few sighs escaping your lips as your head rolls back, eyes fluttering closed—"ah, thinking of me again, angel?" his voice makes you jump and he's so cocky as he slides one hand up your thigh, pressing your legs open more as he settles on the floor in front of you, "why don't i give you what you need, sound good, princess? i'll make it feel better than your hand." "huh? 'samu? didn't think you'd be home yet. . ." you don't have much time to react before he's giving your clit a few soft kisses exactly the way you like, teasing your hole before slipping a finger in. "you like it like this, yeah?" he's only being playful as he fucks you with his fingers, moving your body back and forth as your hands slide into his hair. "mmm- pretty girl, pretty pussy- y'know i can't say no to that."

CHUUYA always knows exactly what you need, and he isn't surprised at all when he finds you playing with your pussy on your shared bed when he gets home from work, the door slightly ajar as you wait for him—you knew he'd be coming home around this time, he'd told you that same morning. he's been working a lot, not satisfying you the way he should, and it hurts his pride a little—but he's more than willing to make up for his absence lately. he slips through the door and you don't say a word as your eyes lock with his, only spreading your legs a little further to welcome him to join. "alright, you've got my attention, baby. . ." he crawls over you and places a gentle kiss on your lips, "turn around and bend over for me, let me see how wet that pussy is for me already."

AKUTAGAWA has absolutely no idea what to do when he catches you—he blushes so hard when he goes to turn the door knob of your shared bedroom and hears your little whimpers and moans of his name. you're thinking about him? he still isn't used to the attention and affection you give him—it's the first he's ever received in his life and it still makes him nervous. should he go in? will you be mad at him if he does? the growing bulge in his slacks is almost painful, but he decides against it, a sigh escaping him as he walks away—he'll just wait until you're done, then ask what he should do next time. he's dying to fuck you, and he's hoping you'll still be in the mood when you find him on the couch later.

FUKUZAWA is quite traditional, but that doesn't stop him from having needs and desires. you'd brought him lunch at work that day, naturally he wanted to surprise you by coming home early with flowers and your favorite drink. he wasn't expecting to find you touching yourself to the thought of him, but as soon as he hears his name on your lips, it's like something switches and he turns into a different person. he loves how enamored you are with him—though he'll never admit it to himself or you—it is a nice ego boost from time to time. he approaches you slowly so as not to scare you—"you were missing me that much, my dear? i just saw you a few hours ago." you're surprised to see him, but that doesn't stop your fingers curling deep inside you, "nghh- yukichi, help me? just missed you, is all. . ." he smiles at that, "how can i resist when you've asked so nicely?"

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊ #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd smut #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #akutagawa x reader #fukuzawa x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #fukuzawa x you #fukuzawa x y/n

[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

[pinkyqil]

Annoying // salma paralluelo x r

Summary : just salma begin the cutest and most annoying tall shit to her short but not that short gf.

Warning : small cursing

A/n : this is meant to be a fic that I'm was currently working on,also decided to practice writing long fic so enjoy this. taking requests has I've been busy writing other chaps for hidden secrets and my brain and mind need a break so for a while I'll be taking requests and writing, this fic gave me the opportunity to jump on the annoying gf prompt going on with woso writer's and slama just gives that vibe tbh hope you enjoy reading it and feel free to request 🫶🏿

___________________________________________

If you could describe salma with three words it would be, tall kind-hearted sunshine. But sometimes she could be the most aggravating piece of shit you've ever encountered.

You both meet around your vacation too Barcelona mid 2022 where your friends had invited you out for barca meet and greet for their female player's. that when you meet her.

You'd known spainsh people are very affectionate but the moment your eye's meet hers.

It felt like you've been hypnotized or what they called it love at first sight.

It must have been fate caused she also felt the same has her eye fell on you.

You and your friend made your way to salma stand where the fans got to interact with player's.

And let's just say salma was one flirt of a player she had you blushing left and right with her pick up lines at the she had sign your jersey and left her phone number for you on a piece of paper typically rom com shit.

also where your moment had come to an end after that eventful day.

You tossed and turn try to decide if you should actually message her or not until your friend had slap some sense into you.

"You know that is a life time opportunity when have you ever meet a snacklious football player that was attractive giving you their number if I were you I would sprint right now and message her ass plus wouldn't hurt a goat until you try"

"None" you mumbled.

"See so hurry your ass up and message her". She told you with a hug grin on her face before you had smack her with the pillow that was right next to you making you both burst out laughing.

The rest was history after you finally had the courage to message salma.

Now you both have been dating for nine months now. Where she had first made the move by asking you out on a date.

after dedicating one of her goals to you at a barca game and asking you out in the back room's. Where she got teased endless by her teammates for her cheesy way of asking you out with the help of her little sister vicky.

Today you both would be celebrating your 10th anniversary as you both never really re called celebrating your month anniversary together due to busy schedule that always clashed together.

And on this particular day salma decide it would be lovely to annoy you like she never did.

It all started this morning when you woke up to an empty bed. Nothing your tall girlfriend had probably gotten up early for her morning run without waking you up.

meaning she was up to no good if she hadn't woke you up when she did. Not wanting your day to start helplessly you quickly got out of bed and showered and picking out you and salma's beach outfits for the day.

Getting out of bed with short notice meant that you had to make your daily smoothie since you weren't a big coffee fan.

but like some other day salma decided too place your favorite smoothie bottle somewhere far knowing well that you couldn't reach high places without her help.

You tried getting a chair to help you reach your bottle but it felt like you shruk times two your actual height.

and couldn't get it. pissing you off as you like using specific type of mugs depending on what your having.

Finally giving up using a different cup when all of a sudden you felt a cold hand smack your ass. making you yell dropping your smoothie that now found it self on the floor.

"Salma Paralluelo If You Don't Explain Yourself Right This Moment And Clean This Mess Up You Can Definitely Find Yourself Dead To Me".

You said turning to face your your girlfriend Who's face had drop after hearing you yell at her and at the sound of the bottle falling.

"I'm very sorry baby pleasee don't ignore me I just got up early to get you these". You rolled your eye's at her but once you saw the bouquet of flowers she had gotten you couldn't be mad at her any longer especially with the expression she had on.

Forgetting about what happened this morning with salma has you both made your way to the beach. setting up your little picnic activities along with some paint and brushes that salma got you.

You both found yourselves in the moment the spainsh music playing in the background your's and salma hand intertwine has you paint and in general just seeking in the moment right before you both.

Until salma grabbed a bottle of paint squeezing it on her hand before applying it towards your face. You thought that your girlfriend childish act would stop by the end of the day but it was totally giving the opposite.

Instead of yelling at her you decide to chase with paint also on your hands.

While salma could be fast she was also very clumsy making you get to her quicker has she fell on the sand laughing until she could trun red.

Once you caught her off guard and grab her face applying the paint on too it. She instally grabbed your face pulling you into a deep kiss with her hands resting on your face.

After your make out session you'd join salma in the sea,where she would grab you by your waist making you both splash in the water enjoying your day together.

Salma might be annoying but she was the only one for you has you're the only one for her.

Your tall lil shit that was meant for your heart only.

Yn/salmaparalluelo

Anniversary dump love you my tall other half no matter how annoying you're 💕 liked by salmaparalluelo, alexiaputellas, vickylopez, lucybronze,ona batlle and 20,40 other's

View comments

Vickylopez la salma de mi gente favorita es muy molesta muy cierto

《 replied to vickylopez you both are very annoying not just salma

《 replied to vickylopez vicky shut up

Ona batlle thought I was the favorite 😪

《 replied to onabatlle your are oni 😚

《Replied to you Salma paralluelo no she's not 😒

Lucy bronze where's my invite 🤔

《 replied to lucybronze you simply didn't get one.

A/n: hope y'all like this pices feel free to request any player just have enough info about them and a suggestion you want and thank you for reading

#salma paralluelo #salma x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso fic #woso #woso community #fc barca femeni #barca femini x reader #barcelona femeni #espwnt x reader #espwnt #espwnt imagine #fcbfemeni x reader #salma paralluelo imagines #barca femeni #futbol #ona batlle #vicky lopez #salma paralluelo x reader

[mvltisstuff]

HI!! i was wondering if you could do a buck fic to where they’re working at the 118 and he just randomly starts getting really needy - like arms wrapped around reader’s shoulders and walking (waddling rlly..) while still holding onto them. then like a cute little cuddle session at home where he talks abt how he wants to marry reader and just talks about the future.

THANK YOU!!!!!!

clean - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @housewifebuck

a/n: guys!!! i love this i can’t wait for a new buck in s7 :)) anyway, 1989 TV SO SOON GUYS WTF, it feels like yesterday was red tv 😧

the lightning had taken care of the other fires in buck. he was different, and he couldn’t tell if he hated it or loved it at first.

the man he was was reckless and like a shiny new toy for someone to play with. he allowed people to string him along and pull at his arms until he did what they wanted. it almost felt like his purpose, to be a prop for everyone else.

he thought y/n would leave him soon after the strike. everyone else liked to do the same thing. his parents giving up on him after his youthful mistakes, abby fleeing because he wasn’t enough for her, aly fearing her future with him. he thought y/n would crack under the pressure of almost losing someone like buck, now he hates himself for second guessing her.

he started to appreciate the smallest things in his girlfriend. the softness of her words, the light reflection of sun in her eyes, the cotton-like skin on her hands as they grazed over it. he almost didn’t want to face her after the accident, but she was clutching onto his hand when he woke up. and, there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t reminded him that she’s going nowhere.

she knew bucks scars as she watched them all get handed to him. she knew how silently fragile he was. he could see it clearly in her as well, noticing each fear of hers and the love she’s pushed away. it was foreign to both of them, the tenderness of each other.

it’s been years since they began dating, and somehow every day is brand new with them. y/n doesn’t ever believe that buck has something to make up. but, he thinks so. he’s been spending years begging for love, and now he has it. now, he wants to show the world what he has after it tried to strip him of everything.

it doesn’t matter how long a shift was, when buck was back to work, every free moment was spent on her heels. he used to go through work, only looking around to see who maybe looked at him. now, he looks forward to see his girl waiting for him wherever he may be.

today was no different, y/n was stocking the engine full of brand new supplies from the new shipment. the trucks glazed red popped out from her perfect polishing on the sides.

“this truck looks almost as good as you,” buck whispers, placing his hand on the side of her waist, making her jump in place.

“and what are you supposed to be doing right now?” she teases back.

“taking it easy, like you and bobby told me!”

“so you come and flirt with your already girlfriend? professional hours baby, remember?”

“those are boring, though. i just want to take you home and never leave.” he sighs, placing his chin on her head.

“just a few more hours, i believe in you!” she encourages, making him smirk and land his lips on her cheek, running away like a little kid.

y/n stood with buck at the island of the kitchen, smelling over bobby’s new dishes that he had prepared for the team. he made several things for a feast amongst everyone, getting a well deserved break.

she could practically feel buck breathing on her neck as he peered over her shoulder. normally, someone doing that would be insufferable, but buck makes it seem normal. it makes her smile, knowing how close he always wishes to be.

“if i didn’t know any better i’d think you were conjoined twins.” chimney takes a turn at his own joke, trying not to laugh at himself. he gets a smile from y/n, but the fakest look you ever did see from buck.

“i’m gonna slap you and i hope it shocks you.” buck snaps back, half joking but also half annoyed as well. chimney takes his plate and scurries away.

buck makes two plates as y/n grabs them drinks from the fridge, moving over to place it in the seat next to her. before she can even think about sitting, buck slightly runs into her with his hip. he places the plates down perfectly on the mats before pulling her chair out. she gazes at him, noticing the cheesy grin on his lips. the team stops to notice his abruptness on pulling out her chair, and kissing her head as she sits.

as the dinner closes, and the sun dips lower, the calls come in slower. luckily, the shift is just ending, so it’s just buck and y/n left in the kitchen as she scrubs away at a bowl. he sneaks up behind her, grabbing a dish to dry from her.

“hi, honey,” he says, looking down at her.

“hi, buck,” she smiles back, noticing the excitement on his face just getting to be near her. “do you wanna talk?”

“about what?”

“i just want to make sure you’re okay, baby,” her kindness and concern comes through her angelic voice, buck almost getting distracted by the sound of her.

“i’m fine!” he replies. “just been thinkin’”

“we can talk about it if you’d like.”

“maybe later, i just can’t wait for us to go home together.” he dries the plate as y/n scoops them all up, buck wrapping his arms around her waist and tucking his face into her neck. he locks his fingers together and rests them on her belly. she just giggles, waddling over to the cabinet where she slides the dishes in. it would’ve been easier if she wasn’t like a tree to a sloth, but easier isn’t always for the best.

the car ride home in his truck was nothing less than romantic. his hand was rested on her thighs the whole time if it wasn’t on the gear shift or the wheel. she practically had to keep touching him somehow to make him keep his eyes on the road.

when the duo finally arrived at home, she looked over at buck and could tell how sleepy he was. his eyes told her everything, and she can read him like a book now that she’s admired him for so long. “hey, go shower and come back down here.”

buck agrees, taking a quick shower and changing into some more comfortable clothes. when he walks back down the stairs, he can smell the sweetener of his favorite tea wafting through the living room, as y/n sits down in her soft sweater and places the mugs on the couch. they’re matching LAFD mugs that y/n’s parents bought for them. she turned on reruns of new girl as she moved to grab a blanket from the basket, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“come on,” she sweetly curls his lips up at him, signaling for him to come lay with her. he happily obliges, going to sit between her legs on his side, the side of his face buried into y/n’s warm chest.

the tightness of her arms wrapped around him eases any weight of the day or stress on his body. he lets himself relax in her hold, knowing she’ll keep him safe from whatever might come his way next.

one of her arms is rubbing his back as the other cups his face as he appears to be intently watching the show, but he’s not.

he thinks of small y/n and buck mixes running around a small house in los angeles, the sun shining through the curtains early in the morning. he thinks of the smell of ice cream and the reflection of the moon on the windows as they get ready for bed. he thinks of a warm vacation with a shining rock on her ring finger.

“i can’t wait to see you in a big, white dress,” he mumbles into her shirt, smiling just at the thought of seeing her on a carpet, walking down an isle to greet him.

“what is going on in that mind of yours?” she teases, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“i just- i don’t want anyone else but you,” he begins. “you could’ve ran. you could’ve left me in the dark, but you didn’t. you’re the only person who hasn’t done that to me. i trust you, and i know you won’t. it’s my turn to show you that i’m here to stay, and that we’re forever.”

“listen,” she starts next, the clear adoration in her eyes. “i would lay on this couch, all day, every day, if it meant you’d come back to me. id do anything, and literally anything, to spend the rest of my life with you. im sorry for every other woman who can’t be with a man like you.”

he doesn’t know how to compete with sentences like that. it feels brand new, even though she tells him all the time. it feels different after the lightning strike. someone above tried so hard to ruin the best things he had going on, but he pulled through. he wants to think he’s strong on his own, but buck knows he wouldn’t be here if y/n wasn’t next to him. if she hasn’t picked up the pieces that everyone left behind, if she hadn’t taken the time to put him back together.

now, buck barely thinks of all the shit that’s happened to him. how could he, when the future is definite right in front of him? he used to just assume his life would be the same forever, but y/n’s flashlight guided him out of the cave he was in. he sleeps in her arms without a fear that she’ll disappear from him, and without a fear that things are out for him.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #may grant #maddie buckley #chimney han #chimney 911 #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley x you #evan buck buckley #evan buckley fic #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley 911 #evan buckley fanfiction #buck 911 #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley angst #evan buckley x female reader #911 fic #911 chimney #911 buck #911 fanfic #911 oneshot

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #Requested #🐺 anon

[sehodreams]

a good girl's paradox

TW and Tags: plus size!coworker!reader x coworker!lee tang (he changed his name to Gyeong-su in the episode), mentions of violent acts (stalking, killing, bullying), smut, p in v (with protection), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), suicidal thoughts, trauma, related to the series but it changes the storyline for the fic purposes, unclear descriptions of the place (Busan) because I have no interest into learning more geography for a fic.

WC: 10K

Summary: Everyone goes to that province to hide, and you’re not the exception, but it’s also said that everyone wants to leave, and perhaps, you’re the exception to that.

Comment: Sorry guys I know I have a lot of requests and other drafts waiting, but I love this man so much I couldn’t help it, I started it yesterday and finished it today because I've been having so many problems finishing other fics and decided this was not going to be one of those half done. It's long so there are definitely mistakes, please be kind, again, English is not my first language.

Feeling the ocean breeze mess up with your hair and leave little particles of salt on it, you sat over the bench and watched the sun appear over the horizon. It was incredibly calm, and beautiful, and you inhaled the aroma of the sea in front of you, an aroma your mother used to love when you were younger, always carrying you in her arms to take you there and watch the sunrise together while eating marmalade and butter sandwiches.

You stopped completely going there once she passed away, and everyone knew why you tried to avoid its existence as if it woke up all the melancholic memories you had with her.

The truth was, you always hated it, and you stopped completely going only because you had no reason to do it anymore. You could make your own decisions once she wasn’t around anymore, and your father never cared enough to keep you company even on important events, so for as long as you could, you just didn’t go.

However, now that you saw it in front of you, you did remember some moments with your mother, her smile, and her excited voice telling you to wake up and watch the sun appear.

‘’Fucking sea’’ you said once the sun completely stayed up there, an orange light showering the whole scenery making it even more breathtaking, but still hating it.

You stood up, grabbed the suitcase handle, and walked alongside the sea, trying to catch a cab in that part of the countryside little city, different from Seoul, which was always awake, you saw how only a couple of people were walking around there, and most of them where fishers getting ready for work, or maybe they were coming back, but you, a city girl your whole life, didn’t know.

You found a taxi not much later and telling him where you were going, the driver rolled his window even more, and giving you a good look, he nodded for you to jump in.

‘’It’s not far from here’’ he said, and you nodded, not feeling like talking much with him. ‘’When you leave, don’t let them charge you too much, never pay more than 15 dollars for any cab, and never go to the sea at night.’’

That last sentence caught your attention, sounding like advice but with a hint of uninterest, assuming that you were going to leave one day.

‘’When I leave?’’ you asked.

‘’You’re going to a rented apartment, I know that building, we know everyone here, and you’re a city girl, I can hear it in your voice, all pretty and clear, something happened to you there so you came here to hide, it’s always the same thing, but your kind never like it here enough to stay’’ he answered sure of his statement.

You looked out the window, the sea was blue, pure, immaculate, and the sun wasn’t orange anymore, a clear sky showing the clouds up there, which you could see reflected into the sea.

But it all looked so grey to you, after all, a beautiful thing like that one still killed people every now and then, fishers who tried to make a living, tourists curious of what was deep inside, or simply people who tried to refresh themselves with the cool temperature of it in the summer, so you nodded.

It was beautiful, a dream, but you would never fall in love with it, if you never did it before even with the memories of your childhood, why would you do it now?

‘’Thank you’’ you said, agreeing with him.

You’d never like it enough to stay.

Still, you kind of appreciated his words after living there for almost a month.

Something you never forgot was how that driver, only with that short conversation, helped you so much, because it was true, you never had to pay more than 15 bucks for any cab, and every time the drivers tried to take advantage of you because of your accent, you only had to spit a short fuck off before they called you a bitch and accepted your bills before driving away.

At first, it was hard, you had never cursed in front of another person and you felt almost sick whenever you did it, but after deciding no one knew you there enough to have the right to judge you, or reminding yourself to just say what went through your mind to not punish yourself later with an I should’ve done something different, you started to feel better with your life there.

Also, he had been right about city people hiding there.

There weren’t many, but they were there, and it was incredibly easy to recognize them.

Apart from the dialect, which was pretty much obvious, there was just something about them that screamed I’m not from here that you always noticed.

Perhaps it was the way most of you were programmed to be colder than most of the countryside people, always being respectful and polite, but always lacking that warmness they had, most of them treating each other like friends or family, while all of you were from the exterior, uninvited guests that one day would leave, and knowing your place, all of you said thank you, hello and goodbye without smiling or eye contact.

It wasn’t that bad for you thought, you had already told yourself to not be involved with people at all if it wasn’t necessary to avoid useless problems, but again, you were only a girl, and Gyeong-ah was just a girl too, and girls, as much as you tried to deny it, feel easily alone.

You met while buying groceries, and you knew immediately she was from Seoul because instead of choosing the detergent almost all the residents there bought, which had a powerful, almost heavy aroma of flowers to mask the sea smell, she chose the softer version without aroma that most girls that lived alone in Seol used to not mess with your perfumes.

You didn’t wear perfume, you never liked it, but you recognized the brand as if it was general knowledge taught at school.

‘’You’re from Seoul’’ you said before you could think it, and it wasn’t a question at all, it was a fact that she, when she heard it, couldn’t even deny because she recognized you too.

‘’You too’’ she said, and suddenly you had a friend.

Just as city girls, you two knew how to talk to each other, never crossing lines and being as cordial as you could, wanting to know but never digging too deep unless you were sure the other deserved to know delicate information about yourselves.

In a month you became best friends, and you started to like to live there, the grey color the area had wasn’t as grey anymore, taking a brighter variation now, almost becoming white, as white as her ceilings, or as the smile she sometimes showed you.

Both of you had really white teeth from performing as perfect city girls before arriving there, religiously visiting the dentist to get expensive treatments at least twice a year and using the famous toothpaste that girl group promoted on TV between music shows, with the phrase ‘’a pretty smile is a pretty heart’’ pushing half the population to buy it, effective, an incredibly overpriced.

Both of you stopped using it, but you respected how it still showed its results.

‘’The supermarket is opening a new position as a cashier, you could come if you want, you receive discounts as an employee’’ she said to the air when you were rambling about almost not having enough savings.

Even if it was the countryside and rent wasn’t even half of what you paid before, with everything you spent after unsuccessfully trying to fit the beauty standards when you lived there, your savings weren’t enough to live unemployed for too much time.

Next week you, instead of waking up to take a little walk before breakfast, now got ready to go to work and be a useful human being to society again.

And with that, both of you took a step further into your friendship, being able to reveal, after drinking a couple of beers, why you escaped from the city.

Gyeong-ah told you everything, from the pretty sequence of how she and her boyfriend met, to then what he did to hurt her, and how she suffered until she had to go through all those surgeries before she moved to Busan.

You told her everything too, how your boss pushed his hand under your skirt, how you reported it and how everyone looked at you as if you were crazy, ‘’She’s the one that reported the sexual assault case? She should be grateful anyone wanted to fuck her’’, and how, being completely alone, you were bullied until you had to quit.

‘’I was the first place in my class’’ she said.

‘’I closed the best deal the company ever had’’ you said.

Both of you cried until you fell slept together on her bed, and only woke up because both of you had to get ready for work.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new job, you were already a seller before arriving there, you knew how to talk to people and how to fake a good smile, charming customers into buying products they didn’t need and quickly gaining the manager approbation, because, after all, as everyone said, you were a good girl.

Sadly, Gyeong-ah didn’t have the same luck, and you understood her, she studied to do something different with her life, and you did it too, but she was younger and never had to learn how to make people love her before because she was incredibly gorgeous, but now that beauty wasn’t as useful anymore, and not knowing how to pretend as much as you, she couldn’t gain the appreciation you did, getting more scolds than praises.

It was on one occasion that her inexperience got her into a big argument with a client, and sadly you saw the first crack of your friendship appear.

That client was demanding a refund for a product without the receipt, and you wanted to run to her and repeat how you also couldn’t find the purchase on the system, but that woman was screaming so bad you got flashbacks of your boss’s wife screaming at you to take back the complaint, how her husband would never touch a disgusting pig like you (calling you that when she was as fat, to not say more, than you), and how you should just ruin your own life if you wanted to ruin someone’s.

She had the same voice tone, and even looked exactly like her, with dark red lipstick, a failed perm and all those cheap accessories, she was her spitting image.

You couldn’t move, watching the situation happen from afar, feet stuck to the floor and hands shaking, you repeated inside your mind to go and help her, to take her side, but you couldn’t, and making eye contact with one of the boys from the fish section when he walked in front of you, you closed your eyes to ignore the situation and not feel as pathetic as you did.

Later, when your break came, you went out to breathe as much air as you could, and trying to erase the memory of the past moment from your mind, you tried to think what could you do to apologize to Gyeong-ah.

Out there, between a couple of cars, in the middle of the immense parking lot, you tried to hide so no one saw you spiraling into a thousand thoughts, and there, almost breaking down, you stopped yourself from doing it when you saw the guy from before talking to that woman.

It looked as if she wanted to discuss with him too. He was beside her car, and she started to get closer to him while talking, you couldn’t hear it, but you saw her mouth moving as fast as before.

You were about to get closer to hear them, but you stopped once you saw a disgusting string of saliva being spit on the concrete by him.

It was so long and thick that you didn’t doubt it was a consequence of all those cigarettes he smoked every day.

You didn’t smoke, but Gyeong-ah did, and sometimes the smoke got impregnated in your clothes, so you could easily identify the Marlboro smell of the pack the two of them chose all the time, but he, unlike Gyeong-ah, had a smell a lot stronger.

Your thoughts were left aside once you saw the woman moving around nervous and he trying to take her phone. What the hell, you thought, and you were about to intervene when the woman jumped into her car and drove away.

Making eye contact with him again, he watched you for a couple of seconds before he turned around and completely ignored you, continuing to smoke his cigarette in peace.

‘’I don’t have time for this’’, you whispered to yourself and walked inside to talk with Gyeong-ah and not overthink anymore.

The first crack wasn’t deep, she said she understood it, and you hugged before finishing your shift and going back home to drink and badmouth that terrible woman, especially you, not thinking much of the woman from the supermarket, but of your boss’s wife.

She laughed while hearing all the insults you had about her appearance, going to sleep with a smile on her face and telling you that she would understand if the situation happened again because it wasn’t your fault, or hers, it was theirs for not understanding you two.

Little cracks continued to appear on the frame of your friendship, but it was still solid enough to survive everything.

At least, until Sangnim appeared, and completely smashed it to leave no trace of it.

That fucking bastard, as you used to call him, ruined everything with his existence.

The minute you saw him you knew something was off with him, you couldn’t help but notice small details when the two of them gave you a lift home, sensing the aroma of a perfume you used to smell a lot in Seoul inside his car, it was impossible Gyeong-ah was the only woman riding it, and you tried to slip a question without looking suspicious.

‘’Sangmin-ah, do you have sisters? I can’t believe how much you understand my Gyeong-ah’’ you said with a smile.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror and showed you a wide grin.

‘’I don’t have any sisters, but you’re so sweet, I really try to take care of Gyeong-ah as much as I can, she deserves it’’ he answered immediately.

‘’You’re right, she deserves it’’ you repeated, still smiling.

Shut the fuck off, you contained yourself from saying that out loud, nodding and looking around to find any other clue.

You couldn’t find anything, but he was definitely a cheater, and you, not having any solid proof, didn’t know how to break the news, so you pretended to not know anything to find the correct moment to say it.

Still, you left little comments every now and then, not blaming him, but leaving a trail of doubts around, doubts that sadly were never enough for Gyong-ah, fracturing too much your relationship.

You even thought that maybe you were exaggerating too, maybe deep inside you just tried to find a reason for her to end things with him, he was never going to stay, he said it before when you three had dinner, he’d go back to Seoul next year, and contrary to all predictions, thanks to your friendship, you liked it here enough to stay.

The future wasn’t bright at all, but it was enough for you, maybe in a couple of years you could escalate to a better position, you’d get benefits, you would walk around the beach every Sunday morning, and then you’d go and have breakfast with Gyeong-ah.

You had to apologize, for the sake of your friendship.

However, you didn’t have to, or more than that, you could never do it, because three days later Gyeong-ah passed away.

Waking up in your free day, you sent her a text to ask for an hour of her time to talk, but she didn’t answer in fifteen minutes, and you just knew something was wrong.

Taking a cab to her house, you saw the ashes all around, and how her room was the one who started it.

‘’It seems the oven was on’’ you heard one firefighter say.

Dropping to your knees, you denied it, because she always checked everything at least three times before going to sleep, it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she would check the door, the kitchen, and would unplug her phone charger from the wall.

‘’I saw on the news that chargers can get on fire’’ she said, and you laughed in her face because that only happened once every thousand times, ‘’Well, with my luck, I could be that one time.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you said while knocking three times on her wooden headboard.

 It had to be him, it had to be him, it’s the only answer, she would never do it, she wouldn’t let her oven on in a million times, they didn’t know her like you did, and sadly, soon no one would remember her like you did.

Calling her mother was the hardest part, you couldn’t remember how the hug of a mother felt in real life, and when she wrapped you into her arms, you broke down with her, because even if you didn’t know her, Gyeong-ah had been telling her about you, always finishing the calls with the same sentence, ‘’Don’t worry mom, my friend’s is taking care of me here.’’

‘’I’m so sorry, I should’ve taken more care of her, I’m so sorry’’ you repeated in her arms, and her mother denied it, saying how that wasn’t your fault at all, but you felt as it was, because you could've stopped her from seeing him, you should’ve stopped her the minute you figured him out.

You didn’t, and it didn’t matter how many nights passed, you couldn’t sleep with the guilt consuming you.

Looking at the beach at night one day, not being able to sleep again, you remembered how the first day you arrived you were told to never go to the sea at night, and right there, you understood why that driver told you that.

For the first time ever, you thought that maybe, maybe, you should just get lost in it, like the fishers, like the tourists, like the innocents.

You weren’t none of them, none of them deserved it, but you were convinced you did.

And you were about to go meet her, until you realized that, there, on earth, you could continue taking care of her, because even if she wasn’t there with you anymore, you could do what was necessary to make Sangmin pay for what he did.

You wouldn’t survive another I should’ve, so you would do it, you would do what was necessary, and nothing would stop you.

Finding Sangmin’s information wasn’t hard, you just had to do a couple of clicks on the internet, and you had everything you could need.

If only you had done that before, but you refused to go back into social media, all your profiles were flooded with hate comments from people you used to work with, or your boss’s family, or people who didn’t know anything at all but felt the right to talk about your body, and she had also deleted all kind of social media for a similar reason, so none of you knew how he was about to get married, and how you had been right about the smell of her fiance's perfume and all the little comments you had left around.

It was simply impossible how they met was a coincidence, getting sex extorted just like Gyeong-ah? He knew how to get close to her and break down her walls, he planned everything, and finally, you had no doubt about doing something.

You planned to wait for him out of his job, you wanted to do it quick and easy, and no one would suspect you, you looked like a good girl, you were a good girl, you were one until he appeared and stole the little family you had, he stole your whole life, and you would do it too.

With a knife in hand, you waited for him to get out of work, and you thought that he would drive his car, but he didn’t, so you followed him down the dark street to an unknown place.

Gripping onto your weapon, you felt your heart punching your ribcage, nervous as never before.

I can do it, I can do it, you repeated inside your mind, trying to convince you again.

But you couldn’t, and entering an alley, letting him go, you started to cry while hugging your knees, apologizing to Gyeong-ah for not being able to do anything for her.

You felt a cold sensation touch your nape and you jumped away from it surprised, looking up at the sky night and watching the guy from work you never liked.

‘’Drink this’’ he pushed the water bottle to your face, almost obliging you to take it, and your heart started to beat again, knowing he had seen what you tried to do, knife on the floor easily to differentiate even in the dark.

‘’Gyeong… Su?’’ you tried to remember his name.

‘’Go home, sleep, and tomorrow go to work, the manager keeps calling you and leaving messages, your position is still yours’’ he said, almost immediately walking away, but you stopped him gripping his jeans.

‘’You saw me’’ you affirmed,

‘’I did’’ he didn’t try to lie.

‘’Don’t you think I’m bad? I tried to do something really bad.’’

Your voice almost broke, and your hand on his jeans was trembling.

He looked down at you, maintaining eye contact and scanning you, and you felt as if he was inside your mind, finding exactly what he wanted to know.

‘’You’re not bad’’, he said after a long silence.

‘’You don’t know me’’, you replied as soon as he finished talking.

He shrugged and pulling apart from your grip, he talked one last time before leaving, ‘’That’s true.’’

Completely alone there, you cried again until you felt satisfied, and looking up to the dark clear sky, you apologized one last time to Gyeong-ah, and to your mom, and to you, and after drinking the whole bottle of water, you walked to the beach, burring the knife into a hole in the sand you dug with your own hands, to then go home, take a shower, and sleep.

The next day you had to go to work, and you needed to sleep at least a couple of hours.

When you arrived at work the next day you told yourself to completely ignore Gyeong-su, not wanting to talk with someone who had seen you in such deplorable moments like the ones you had.

However, again, you were just a girl, and not having anyone around you anymore, he was the closest thing to intimacy you had.

The relationship you had wasn’t deep enough to be called a friendship, he rarely talked about himself, only keeping you company when he smoked a cigarette in his break and when his turn finished.

You can’t remember how you started to get closer to him, you just remember seeing him smoke near the plastic table behind the supermarket, near the entrance in which all trucks left the daily order of products, and sitting next to him in silence, missing the smell of the Marlboro Gyeong-ah used to smoke.

Somehow, it brought you a calm feeling, and your mind stopped thinking, becoming a blank sheet that didn’t need to be filled with anything, not memories of her, or your past life in Seoul, or Sangmin, only breathing and watching the ugly metallic green bars that surrounded the place as if it was a prison, separating it from the outside world.

He didn’t mind you staying there, and days after days, you started to notice his presence around more often inside the supermarket, and the little behaviors he had.

‘’A man of few words’’, you called him when he didn’t answer your question if he was from Seoul too, thing he never acknowledged, but it was too obvious.

He didn’t have the province dialect, he had a soft way of slurring words whenever the manager or his superior in the fish section made him questions, like most boys in the city did, especially those who worked as part-timers in convenience stores, a polite but tired tone, and you were sure he had received some kind of superior education because when you carried a copy of Justice written by Michael Sandel, he followed it with his eyes until you pushed it inside your bag.

‘’Those who insist that only bleeding wounds should count believe that post-traumatic stress reflects a weakness of character unworthy of honor. Those who believe that psychological wounds should qualify argue that veterans suffering long-term trauma and severe depression have sacrificed for their country as surely, and as honorably, as those who’ve lost a limb’’ you quoted the next day while he lighted his second cigarette and seemed more relaxed next to you.

‘’I’m too dumb for that’’ was the only thing he said before exhaling a long line of smoke.

You don’t know why, but after hearing him so sure while saying that, and after such a long time, you were able to laugh again.

Things were slightly getting better after two months, you could sleep at least four hours now, and you were doing things again, not only staring at your TV when you arrived home. You opened old books she had left at your house, cleaned your place more, and ate proper meals, and you still cried, but at least you were able to smile when you saw pictures of her in your phone.

Still, there were moments in which you crumbled, and one of them was when you heard what happened to Sangmin a long time ago, only a couple days after you tried to do… that.

You heard it from one of the clients, how weird things were happening, first the death of a former worker there in the supermarket, and then the death of her boyfriend, and how now there were other two girls dead.

‘’This never happened before those people started to move here’’ her companion, another elderly woman said, and of course they referred to the people like you, people that weren’t born or grew up there, but you couldn’t help but only think in what you had heard about Sangmin.

Sangmin was dead, and what should’ve brought you joy for fair karma, instead made you hide in the warehouse, crying and spiraling into your thoughts about Gyeong-ah, and how you didn’t even make an effort to make sure she got her real justice, cleaning her name from everyone’s mouths.

‘’What’s going on?’’ you heard Gyeong-su’s voice come from behind the shelf you were leaning to.

‘’He-He’s dead’’ you answered, you didn���t need much to think of how to phrase it, he knew who you were referring to.

‘’Isn’t that what you wanted?’’ he asked you.

You stayed silent, muffled cries hiding in your knees.

‘’I don’t know, but I’m hurting so much, and all I keep thinking about is how Gyeong-ah must have suffered more than me when she left this place, and how I’ll never be able to know if he received what he deserved, even more, how because of that I’ll never be able to clean her name, and now no one will remember her as clearly as I do’’ you then confessed.

Feeling like a sinner telling a priest all of her secrets, you felt as if something had left your chest free, your mind finally was out there, formed into words and tears, and you didn’t see his face, but that let you speak your mind even more free.

‘’I see’’ he murmured, ‘’and you’ve thought that all this time, I guess.’’

‘’Yes,’’ everything was out, your tears sliding down your cheeks and your body lighter, almost numb.

‘’Well, you shouldn’t compare your pain, or hers, or his, each of you went through things none of you three know, she doesn’t know how you’re mourning her death, you don’t know how she suffered the process of it, and none of you know how he suffered his, those are things none of you will ever know, so it’s okay if you hurt, but you don’t have to think much into what he deserved, because you’ll never have an answer, and you shouldn’t condition what you feel into an answer you’ll never receive.’’

You sniffed your tears, looking at the packages of toilet paper in front of you, wishing you could take one to clean your face.

‘’And I do remember her, not as clearly as you do, of course, no one will, she was your friend, but I remember she liked to buy fresh tuna every Friday to eat with you, she always had a blank face when the manager scolded her or when she talked to rude clients, and she would rarely smile, but with you, she would do it in front of others sometimes.’’

You exhaled.

That was exactly her, she liked tuna when you hated it, and you picked on her for having an old man's taste buds, you preferred chicken over it, but you let her win every time one of you had to choose, and yeah, she did stare blankly at others, including you, but if it was a good day, she would smiled at you with those white pearls she had inside her mouth.

Feeling as if some heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders, you exhaled and let your head fall to the shelf you were leaning into.

‘’You two were the city pair’’ he finished, making you laugh.

‘’You’re also a city boy’’ you said, and he coughed, ‘’and you’re a liar, you said you were dumb.’’

‘’I am, I never understood that book’’ he said before grabbing the box between you two, lifting it, and going out, leaving you there alone.

You felt as if finally, you had taken a step in the right direction, moving from your position, you cleaned your tears with the ugly blue vest, too hard for your cheeks, and waking you up with the pain.

A week later another girl died, and your boss had to organize a meeting.

‘’It seems the current situation is getting dangerous, especially for young girls, so the superiors have ordered all the women to leave while the sun is still up’’ he said, and you don’t know if it was because of an empathy people from where you grew up didn’t have, but you got surprised when none of the men argued with it, everyone nodding in unison.

You had permission to leave early, so you did it, not being able to share Gyeong-su’s company when your turn finished, only seeing each other in the first break.

‘’You’ll miss me’’ you said the first day, and he never made any sound to acknowledge your silly jokes, but this time he let a soft snicker, almost imperceptible, that made you smile too.

You tried to always do what you were told to, so you left before the sun went down, but that day you were in charge of counting merchandise in the warehouse, so you didn’t see how late it was until you checked your phone.

It was even later than the time for everyone to leave, so you quickly grabbed your things, said good night to your male coworkers, and left.

You tried to not get paranoid with the news, they specified that the killer only directed its attention to pretty girls, loving long legs and soft features.

Gyeong-ah and Sangmin cases were mentioned every now and then to repeat how dangerous things were getting, but they were never related to the girl’s deaths, being two different situations.

That’s why, you tried to convince yourself you would be okay, you didn’t share any of the characteristics the killer loved in their victims, and he supermarket wasn’t far from your house, but you didn’t dare to walk alone anymore between all the buildings, so you waited for a cab to appear and take you home.

You made sure to always be careful when you were alone, yes you took cabs, but you always had a pen on your hand and your phone ready to call 119 in the other, checking the routes and if the driver looked at you too much.

Everything was okay, you were already relaxed when you saw your building in front of you, so you shoved your things in your bag, pulled out the bill, and paid, walking home with an easy mind.

You never thought you would get snatched right next to your door.

With a hand on your mouth and the other on your tummy, you felt how you were dragged into the alley next to your building, darkness surrounding you while you felt a disgusting presence behind you.

The one who pulled you in was a man, taller than you, with big hands and an erection already ready to make your worst nightmare real.

You started to cry, muffled by his gloved hand, you couldn’t say anything when you heard his voice calling you sweet treat, ordering you to be silent if you didn’t want things to get ugly.

Begging Gyeong-ah, your mother, and God to send you help, you nodded when he said he would let you go if you were good.

‘’Promise?’’ he murmured.

‘’Promise’’ you agreed, closing your eyes and letting his hand cup your pussy with force, not making a single sound, only trembling with tears running down your cheeks.

He pushed your face to the wall and made you show him your bubbly ass, touching it as much as he wanted without an ounce of shame.

You thought this is it, my karma, repeating inside your head how this was your punishment for all the things you should and shouldn’t have done.

The man couldn’t even open the button of your jeans before you heard a loud bang and his body fell to the floor.

Staying in your position, you pressed your face to your hands and didn’t dare to turn around to see what was making all that noise, it was metallic, and it didn’t stop even when the man didn’t make a single noise anymore.

When things got silent, you, still trembling, turned your head to see what, or who stopped the man.

You never expected to see Gyeong-su covered in black clothes from head to toe, paint all over the floor, covering the man's body and face, and the can totally smashed and tossed to the side.

‘’Uh?’’ was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

‘’I knew he was going to come for you, this sick bastard’’ he said.

You didn’t understand why he thought that, and watching your white sneakers get ruined with the blood and the red paint, you started to cry even more, still in silence.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay’’ he said, giving you your messed bag and, once again, leaving you alone.

You called the police, the number still there on your screen ready to only press the green button, and when you did it, you said your direction as clearly as you could.

‘’Did you see who did it?’’ one of the officers asked you, and you stayed silent for a good minute before answering.

‘’I didn’t’’ then you said.

The two cops keeping you company looked at each other and then the one writing things down nodded.

‘’I see’’ was the only thing he said before leaving you alone.

You didn’t have much to do, the man was dead, and now nothing could be done.

Was that justice? You thought.

They immediately recognized him as the killer, he had a patron, pretty girls who lived alone, and all the bodies showed the same signs of abuse before dying.

Perhaps he had lied to all of them, and he had lied to you, convincing you that if you did no sound you would live, but you’d have died just like them at the end.

But did he deserve to die? Just like Sangmin, wasn’t there another way to get justice for your pain? For yours, Gyeong-ah’s, and all those girls’.

Still, what you knew was that, even if it was contrary to all your values, knowing how valuable life was, Gyeong-su didn’t deserve any punishment, he had saved you, and justice for you, was that he continued free out there.

The next day before you went to work, you saw rests of the red paint still over the cement, thin layers already dry after so many hours, cracked with the breeze of the sea, and you thought how, if Gyeong-su hadn’t saved you yesterday, what anyone else would have seen in daylight was your cold body lying out there.

All your coworkers hugged you when you arrived, and your manager told you to take the day off if you needed, but you couldn’t go back home or you’d start to overthink things again, if what you did was the correct thing to do, if he deserved to die like that, if you were a killer too, taking into account how you saved Gyeong-su’s secret.

When the first break came you walked out to the plastic table, but Gyeong-su wasn’t there, and hugging your coat, you sat to wait for him, but he didn’t come.

He avoided you for days, and you thought the pseudo-friendship you had was over, until a detective arrived and started to make questions about what had happened to you that day.

‘’You really didn’t see who did it?’’ he asked, and you denied again, already used to say that lie as if it was an unchanging truth, ‘’Do you mind if I walk around here a little bit?’’

You didn’t have a reason to say no, but your eyes caught how Gyeong-su opened the curtain separating the counter from the freezer where all the fish waited to be cut and packed to be sold, and how he immediately took a step back, not letting himself be seen.

You don’t know why, but you knew Gyeong-su didn’t want that detective to see him.

‘’I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to see any more cops lurking around, he’s dead, and looking at you only brings me back the bad memories of that night’’ you didn’t know why you said something like that, it didn’t make any sense, all the older ladies loved to see the cops near, feeling a lot safer, but you didn’t know what else to say to make them leave.

His younger companion frowned and was about to say something before the detective stopped him and nodded, leaving you his card and telling you to call him in case you ever needed help or remembered something.

You didn’t answer, shoving it into one of the numerous pockets your vest had, and turned your back to continue writing down the stock you were counting.

‘’Ugly girls should learn how to talk prettily at least’’ you heard the younger say.

‘’Shut up, she’s a victim, she doesn’t have to entertain you with pretty words’’ the older quickly replied, ‘’and you don’t know what you’re saying, her face is very pretty.’’

Jand Nam-gam, you read in the card he left you.

He seemed like the kind of person who was only respected by the people who were near him, used to receive no as answers, and a bit blunt and unsophisticated, from the city, just like you, but without the calm and respectable vibe a detective from there usually had, and too honest and correct to survive there for long.

When you went out for your break a couple of hours later you saw Gyeong-su sitting on the table, smoking and waiting for you.

You sat next to him and for the first time, you showed him your palm, asking for a cigarette too.

Without looking at you, he gave you the one he was smoking, still new and ready for you to take it.

Your fingers brushed his when he gave it to you, and you tried to not think much about it, but you always thought too much, so to shut your mind up, you inhaled the cancer stick and held it as long as you could, slowly letting the grey cloud appear in front of your face.

The city had the same grey color it used to have before Gyeong-ah, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay there.

Your imagination wasn’t filled with a future there, you didn’t want to walk around the beach anymore, you had no one eating breakfast with you in your head, and you were afraid every time your turn finished and you had to go back home, running the few steps to open your building door, and only feeling safe once you checked that your oven was off and you put a chair behind your secured door.

‘’I didn’t ask for your help’’ he then said.

‘’Me neither’’ you answered.

He nodded, still looking at the metallic bars surrounding you.

‘’How did you know I didn’t want him to see me’’ he asked, breathing the air and pushing his hands inside his apron pockets.

‘’How did you know he was going to come for me’’ you asked back.

He shrugged like every time you asked him anything he couldn’t ignore.

‘’I just knew he would come for you, after all, they said he followed pretty girls.’’

It felt completely different from when the detective said it, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a warm sensation reach your cold hands.

‘’I just knew it too’’ you said, tossing the rest of the stick to the floor.

It tasted like shit, and you couldn’t understand how he and Gyeong-ah smoked it every day.

‘’I won’t come to work tomorrow.’’

You felt incredibly alone again, you knew he meant that he wouldn’t come back, he would, again, leave you there on your own.

‘’Can you walk me home today? I’m afraid of going on my own.’’

He knew why you asked him that, a goodbye, a farewell, so he nodded and told you to wait for him at the front door.

Your turn finished and then you were waiting for him right where he had told you, a good girl following his words exactly like he wanted.

You stayed there, hands playing with the leather strap of your bag, the bag you used when you lived in Seoul, too noisy in the province, reason why you preferred to go around with your canvas tote bag, a lot more discreet and common, but that one had been ruined with the red paint that day, and just like your white sneakers, you had to toss it away.

When he appeared he nodded at you, indicating you with a tilt of his head to lead the way.

You two walked on silent, you couldn’t make any question or comment or silly joke, and it was obvious, by the grip on your bag, that you were nervous.

He noticed it, and pulling out his hand from the pocket of his bomber jacket, he grabbed your left hand and held it all the way to your house.

You felt incredibly calm, thinking how you shouldn’t because you knew, deep down, that he was dangerous. It was impossible, by the fear of facing the detective, that he hadn’t killed more people, and it was clear he was being followed.

That makes sense, you thought, if you weren’t sent to that province because of work, like Sangmin, you were hiding, and he was just like Gyeong-ah and you, escaping from things that had happened in the past, or perhaps, things that were still happening now.

But you hadn’t felt so safe in so long, because you knew that, with him, nothing would snatch you next to your house, and that no one would be able to enter your house, or that your oven was never going to magically explode.

With him by your side everything was okay, you were okay, and that was enough to make all those preoccupations disappear.

When you got to your entrance you let his hand go to open the principal door with your key, and he was behind you, observing you, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head, but when you turned to him, he let his eyes fall to the floor.

‘’Do you want to drink some coffee?’’ you asked, and he nodded, following you inside and walking up the stairs until you got to your little apartment.

It wasn’t amazing, but it was yours. You didn’t have an elevator, and you always had to go up to the fifth floor to let your clothes dry with a big basket, but it was okay, you liked your building, your neighbors were quiet, and you felt safe and sound there. Until that happened.

Inside your room you let him close the door for you, and you didn’t feel the need to immediately put the secure on, leaving your coat on the hanger instead, and taking off your shoes, you walked to your little kitchen, putting water in an electric kettle to boil it.

You could cook in your kitchen, but you never used the oven, and you preferred the electric kettle over the traditional one because once the water was done, it would automatically turn off.

Then you sat on the floor, leaving two cups, sugar and coffee over the little wooden table you had, and turning on the TV, you looked at him in the eyes until he sat beside you on the floor.

He was wearing an ugly grey sweater that kind of smelled like fish, mascaraed with what you identified as the cheap deodorant you sold in the store, but you were used to the fish smell he had, so you didn’t mind.

‘’Do you mind if I take a shower?’’ He said not much after.

You nodded, the news had just started, and you mindlessly changed the channel to try to find anything interesting.

 ‘’Sure, there are towels in the cabinet, I’ll get you some clothes, they’re mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit you’’ you said, and he didn’t waste a second to walk to your bathroom.

You gulped while changing the channels, you knew what you were going to do, but you hadn’t done it in so long, you needed a second to recognize what that sensation forming on your abdomen was.

You hadn’t done anything at all, and you felt yourself already getting wet inside your panties.

The click the jug did after the water was done caught your attention and you stood up to get the water, pulling out the cord from the plug, but knowing you had to get him his clothes, you walked to your little closet to find a t-shirt and some pants that could fit him.

He wasn’t buff at all, but he was lean, a normal guy there, not fat, not big, not small, and taller than normal, so you decided to find the biggest clothes you had.

You were choosing when you heard the door open and you felt him walking behind you, hands surrounding your waist and wetting your back with the drops that were still sliding down his chest.

‘’I chose this’’ you said, lifting the clothes so he could see them, feeling his breath touch the side of your neck and his nose brushing your skin.

‘’I’ll wear them later then’’ he answered, pushing you to your closed closet and making you turn to him.

You weren’t that short, but just then you noticed how much taller than you he was. He made you lift your eyes to him with a touch to your hands, taking the clothes from your hands and letting them fall to the floor.

‘’I- I don’t remember much how this was… it’s been years for me’’ you admitted, and he nodded.

‘’It’s been years for me too’’ he said, not as ashamed as you.

With the same hand that tossed the clothes, he made you look at him and accept his mouth over yours, taking the lead in the kiss and erasing all your thoughts.

It felt good, his lips were chapped, and he had the taste of smoke in his mouth, but you didn’t mind, it finally tasted good, and moving your hands to his neck, you let him press his body against yours, the lower half of his body only covered by one of your towels.

He wasn’t hard, but you could feel something poking at the front of your jeans, and you wanted him to lay on your bed, so after a couple of long minutes, and just after he had enough of your mouth, you murmured something.

‘’Let’s go to my bed’’ you begged with hazy eyes and weak legs, leaning onto him, who was holding you with his body against your closet doors.

He nodded, and taking your hand, he guided you there, making you sit and look up to him.

Your lights were on, and you felt nervous, you had never had sex with the lights on, you only had a couple of partners, and they always turned them off before fucking you.

‘’You can turn off the lights if you want’’ you said, looking at him in the eyes.

He didn’t answer, his hand went to your cheek, and he pressed the tips of his fingers over your skin, caressing it and then brushing your wet lips after all his kisses, slightly red and plump thanks to the way his lips covered them.

He didn’t acknowledge what you said, bending down to retake the contact between both mouths.

Full of life, unlike his usual demeanor, eager, he pushed you to your back, making you receive him between your legs.

Slightly harder, you felt the border of his boner only covered by the fabric damp your jeans, but he didn’t stop kissing you, one hand lying on your neck and the other helping him stay still over you to not let all his weight crush you.

You opened your legs as much as you could with the jeans stopping you from going too far.

 ‘’You know what I’ll do to you’’ he said after a minute.

You nodded.

‘’I won’t stop’’ he warned.

‘’I don’t want you to’’ you answered.

You knew no one was going to save you from that place, it wasn’t his job, so you’d accept this as enough, and you’d let him go without resentment and an I should’ve done it.

‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked, afraid of hurting you more.

‘’I want this to happen’’ you said, making him look at you, caress your cheek once again, and give you another kiss before his hands went to your button and helped you take your jeans off.

Sliding the clothing off your legs, he pushed your thighs wide open, and feeling the texture of the towel, his now hard cock against your clothed clit made you whimper.

‘’It feels good’’ you said, to what he agreed with you.

‘’It feels good’’ he affirmed.

He did soft movements to stimulate you with his cock, only letting you feel what would soon be inside you.

Looking at your eyes flutter, he pushed up your shirt, showing him your black bra hugging your chest.

Touching the skin uncovered by your cups, he pressed his thumb to see how far it could sink into your skin.

Your chest was bigger than normal, just like your tummy, but he liked it, it looked comforting and soft, perfect for him to rest a little bit, after his exhausting life, it looked like a taste of paradise.

You pushed his hands while taking your shirt off without asking, to then unhook your bra and toss it to the floor.

‘’Touch me properly’’ you said, making him snicker.

You had forgotten how that little grin looked like, and you smiled when it appeared again.

‘’Okay,’’ he replied, unabashedly grabbing both tits and groping them, looking at how the skin flooded his grip between fingers, and feeling good with both sensations, his cock against your cunt, and his hands in your chest, you closed your eyes and moaned, moving your head to your side and cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He didn’t let you hide yourself for long, making you open your mouth for him and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, obliging you to let the moans out.

Your panties were incredibly wet, and he left one of your tits free to sneak a hand inside them.

Juices gladly receiving him, he groaned when he felt you dripping all over his fingers.

Without asking, just like when you took your shirt, he introduced a finger.

You cried with his mouth over yours.

His finger was long, and it sent a delicious shock to your core, making you frown at how good it felt.

‘’More’’ you begged, and he gladly obliged, pushing one more finger to make scissoring motions and prepare you for him.

‘’Shit, it’s begging for it’’ he groaned when he heard how much your insides were squelching, asking for him to fill you up.

‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, listening to his nasty approbations telling you how good you’d take him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill that sweet pussy of yours.

Fucking you with his fingers, you moaned as much as you wanted, not caring to hide anymore, it was your only night with him, so you decided to not hold anything.

His mouth went to your nipple, tits falling to the sides of how heavy they were and shaking with his attention to your cunt.

He licked them, first with just the tip of his tongue, but then let it flat so it covered your buds and made you shake even more.

‘’Su- so good’’ you cried.

His fingers were making you dizzy, and you had to get up on your elbows to see his hand inside your panties moving to make you cum.

It was hard to see yourself like that, so naked, so exposed.

You couldn’t hide the way your tummy rolls were in front of his eyes, the marks on your skin, or the way your big tits didn’t look perfect on your body, but he seemed to not care, even liking it, guiding his mouth to your nipples again and looking into your eyes when he left soft pecks over them.

‘’You’re going to cum for me, right?’’ he murmured when you started to clench over him.

‘’I-I don’t know’’ you cried, never having an orgasm with your partners before, you didn’t know if that was an orgasm, or what the hell was it.

‘’You’re going to’’ he didn’t ask, ‘’and it’s because of my fingers, so good’’ he pushed his fingers faster and harder, stretching your panties with how brutal he was.

You couldn’t maintain your position and dropped over your back, crying with your walls pulsating around him.

‘’That’s it, so fucking good, my good girl’’ he said still moving his fingers.

You tried to push his hand away, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tears falling down your cheeks of overstimulation, and he stopped when you left a singular loud cry out, but only to take off your messed underwear and toss the towel wrapping his hips.

He let you take a second to breathe properly again, and pushing up your legs, he made you show him your glossy cunt, lips open and ready for him.

He couldn’t help it, it was all shiny and pretty, he had to taste it a little bit, and sinking to his knees over the floor, he pulled your body to the border of the bed, mouth going directly to your pussy.

Drinking your orgasm, the slurping sound was so nasty you had to put your hands over your face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘’That’s too much’’ you tried to stop him, but he, mouth still stuck to your entrance, and nose poking at your clit, denied with his head, smearing your arousal over his face.

‘’You have no idea all the things I want to do to you’’ he replied, pushing his thumb to your opening, and pressing his tongue over your clit this time.

You cried, hands going to his wet hair and trying to pull him away, but he was stronger than you, and you never had a chance to stop him.

You couldn’t fight him, so you wanted to finish quickly instead, hips jolting to feel him more and grasp that sweet second orgasm you felt coming.

About to call his name, he separated and said something before going back to his work.

‘’Lee Tang’’ he said, and that was enough for you to know what he meant.

That was his name, not Gyeong-su, but Lee Tang, and you thought, that fits him a lot more.

‘’Lee… Tang’’ you said as you could, and then the only thing that came out of your mouth was a ton of Tang, Tang, repeating proudly his real name.

You were so close that you could feel your toes curling, walls ready to let your orgasm free and relax again, and your back was curving, your body needing to cum once again because of him.

But he was so cruel.

He stopped, and getting up his knees, he thumbed your clit, flicking the little button a couple of times before he slid his dick between your lips, making you feel his length resting over you.

‘’Please, I’m so close, please’’ you saw the light of your room above him, watching his dark eyes examine you, searching for another answer in your eyes.

You left a disappointed cry when he, instead of touching, walked away to grab his jacket hung next to yours, and sitting, you saw him pull a little box from his pocket.

So that’s why he made me wait for him outside, you thought, he didn’t want you to see what he was buying.

Opening the film package, you saw him sliding the condom over his member with experience, walking back at you and showing you how it looked, slightly jumping over the air, standing hard and thick, and pushing you to your back again, he pressed his tip on your entrance, making you clench over it, and nodded to your past pleading. ‘’You deserve it’’ he said before pushing his member inside.

He didn’t let you adjust, but you didn’t need it, you just wanted him to keep moving, and soon that soft pace wasn’t enough for you.

‘’Fuck’’ you couldn’t hold the curses in your throat.

It felt so good, the weight of his member inside, pushing the limits of your walls, taking what he wanted from you, it was so good your hands searched for something of him to grip, finding his hands over your hips to maintain you in your place for him.

‘’Tang, so good, please make me cum’’ you cried.

One of his hands interlocked with yours, helping you find comfort between all the intense sensations your insides were feeling.

You looked so good under him, your chubby torse facing him, showing him everything he wanted to see, and your thighs jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You were close, and so was he, but he needed something more, a little thing that had been wandering inside his mind since he started to see you differently.

‘’Can you turn for me?’’ he asked, needing to see your pretty ass taking him.

Not answering, you immediately crawled further in your bed, and searching for your pillow, you hugged it, pressing your face to your bedsheets and showing him your ass without any ounce of shame left.

‘’Fuck me’’ you begged again, opening your lips with your fingers and showing him your entrance gaping around nothing, ‘’Tang, please fuck me.’’

His breath stopped, he had never seen something that bold and hot before, and he admired your needy side calling for him to calm you.

Going to you, he pushed his entire length inside, bottoming out and pushing it inside in a single thrust to see your gorgeous back and thick thighs trembling with his cock.

You were crying and hugging your pillow, shoulders becoming smaller and one of your hands on your back searching for his to hold it again.

Lee Tang, not daring to ignore you, his good girl, like that, held your hand.

‘’You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you, and now you can’t take it?’’ he teased, not liking how much he was spoiling you.

‘’No, I can take it, please don’t stop’’ you implored, feeling his hard and fast thrusts pushing your sanity away.

He didn’t care how weak he was to you, feeling your walls wrapping around him like that was like nothing he had felt before, watching the curves of your waist interrupted with your little fat rolls, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with his strength, taking his cock like a gift, and your hand not letting him go even with how hard he was being with you, was everything he ever needed.

Hearing your sweet moans and cries all out when you came, with your sweet walls fluttering around him, pushed the last string inside him, and he pressed his cock inside you to let everything out in the condom.

‘’Tang-‘’ you gripped his hand harder.

‘’Yes baby, I’m cumming’’ he exhaled, letting all inside you.

 ‘’Okay’’ you said happy.

He wished he could stay connected to you forever, but he couldn’t, and he had to pull out of you to make sure the condom, and you, were alright.

Going to the bathroom to toss it in the trash, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself with how relaxed he looked.

Tense all the time, he saw his eyes drowsy, ready to rest the whole night.

You, lying on your side to catch your breath, hoped that he could at least spend this night with you, his last night there, but maybe that was too much to ask.

When he came you didn’t look at him, and he simply accommodated behind you, spooning you with a hand over your tummy, letting his hand land there, and sighed.

‘’Let’s get inside the covers, the night is cold’’ he murmured, and you followed his request.

Under your bedsheets, a lot warmer thanks to the fabric and his skin, your mind started to drift away, so you looked at him one last time before falling asleep, closing your eyes when he left a last kiss over your lips.

When you woke up you were alone, feeling incredibly sore, and sad.

You stood up to drink a glass of water, not thinking much about how lonely you felt, concentrating on what would you do later that day to fill your head.

Would you be able to stay? You doubted it, you had too many memories here, and maybe the driver was right, all of you would leave one day.

You were about to go back to bed when you saw a little note next to your electric kettle.

I’ll come back in three weeks was written, and you closed your eyes, happy to not be abandoned again.

You had to stay so he could find you, that was your home now.

#lee tang #lee tang x reader #a killer paradox #choi wooshik #choi woo shik smut #lee tang smut #kpop smut #kdrama smut #i have no idea what tags to put #why can't i find more fics of this man #plus size reader #chubby reader #choi wooshik smut

[beelmons]

Dr. Reid's Lonely Hearts Club

Genre: smut, light fluff at the end Pairing: spencer x hotch x fem!BAU!reader word count: 6,650 cw: threesome, vaginal penetration, facefucking, light bondage, slight degradation, alcohol consumption A/N: this is just absolutely pure filth and I'm both sorry and not sorry. Happy Valentine's to all singles out there surviving on self insert smut fics! Summary: When everyone gets the evening off, only three people remain in the office, the lonely hearts come together to not feel so alone on the most romantic day of the year. Tag list: @ssamorganhotchner @hotchxreid @cassiemartzz @supercriminalbean @evee87

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Jesus, Reid! Can you stop that?!” Emily yelled towards the young genius, and he ended up jumping in fear on his own chair. The poor guy was simply tapping his pen against the surface of the desk while he pondered over some details of the case they had just wrapped up. “Sorry.” Emily said again once he noticed both Morgan and Hotch coming out of their offices to oversee the ruckus on the bullpen “Sorry, Spencer, I’m just a little antsy, I have a date tonight and I’m really hoping I don’t need to cancel it. Sorry, everyone.” She said again looking apologetically at the rest of the coworkers.

“Alright, enough is enough.” Hotch mentioned from the handrail outside his door “It’s 5p.m., we’re clearly not getting a new case tonight, and any paperwork left can be finished tomorrow. Anyone with Valentine’s Day plans can go home. Have a lovely evening.” your boss waved his hand dismissingly, and you watched as almost every person bolted out of their seats and towards the elevator. You waved goodbye at your girlfriends shouting ‘bye!’ and ‘have a great night!’ with bright smiles on their way out.

Hotch went back into his office, and only Spencer and you remained by your desks, exchanging equally disappointed looks. “No plans?” you asked.

“Have I ever had plans?” Reid answered with a slightly embarrassed smile. You offered him one of your own and a nod in agreement before going back to the files on the wooden surface. You reached to grab a couple from Emily’s desk, if you were going to spend your night like that, might as well help your friends out; you would be able to check that favor in some other time. Spencer smiled at your actions and did the same with some of the files from JJ’s desk.

Aaron was shut inside his private workplace, devouring file after file of piled up work for what felt like two or three hours. With his eyes strained, he decided to take a walk to the kitchen and get some extra coffee to burn the midnight oil. When he stepped outside the door, however, he stopped right on his tracks. “What are you two doing?” he asked as he stared at Reid’s desk.

You had dragged your chair to be sitting on the other side of your friend’s table, the surface covered in different Chinese dishes still in their take-out containers, behind them a bottle of rum that was clearly drank from, and some Hershey’s kisses wrappers scattered around, you were laughing soundly together, talking about random Valentine’s Day experiences.

“Hey! Look who's finally out of the man cave!” you said with a smile, raising your hands in the air victoriously “We’re having ourselves a little Valentine’s Day dinner, courtesy of Dr. Reid’s Lonely Hearts Club, if you got a partner, you are not invited. Care to join us?” you added. Spencer was looking at him expectantly, and Hotch let out a defeated sigh before heading downstairs and pulling a chair to sit in front of the two of you. You handed him a container with a pair of chopsticks on top. “Pekin duck. I know you like it.” you mentioned.

“I don’t think the rum is a good idea.” he replied, grabbing the food from you.

“Come on, it’s after 8.” you complained.

“It is morally questionable, but since we’re off the clock we’re technically not breaking any rules. Not any that we can be reprimanded for, at least.” Reid added. “Plus, we got you scotch in case you didn’t want rum.” he continued, bending his body to pick up a bottle of acceptable whiskey from the floor.

“Relax, Hotch, no boss scolding, no dad speeches, just friends making each other company on the loneliest night for single people.” as you spoke, you were opening the bottle of his preferred liquor and pouring a glass, or rather a coffee mug, with a couple ice cubes. After having served a considerable amount, you handed him the mug and your hand squeezed his thigh in a friendly manner, however a little bit higher than you usually would. He scoffed at the comment and took a sip out of the container.

“How come you don’t have any plans tonight?” your boss asked.

“I usually spend Valentine’s Day with my mom, but I couldn’t get a ticket without making sure we would be in town.” Spencer said absentmindedly while he rummaged through his food. Both of you looked at him questioningly, and he responded with a confused stare.

Hotch gave up without even trying to explain that the question wasn’t, obviously, directed at him, instead his head turned towards you “and how come you don’t have plans tonight?” he asked once again.

“Nuh-uh” you answered with a sarcastic tone “If we’re drinking, I’m not answering anything unless we play a game.”

“A game? What, are we 15?” Hotch asked.

“I was thinking a little bit more like 20, you know, r-rated questions might be included” you answered.

“So, we’re not horny teenagers, we’re horny college kids.” your boss reiterated, and you nodded along “and you’re okay with this?”  he turned to Spencer to double check.

“I never really got to play drinking games in college, so this should be interesting” his head wobbled excitedly.

“That’s because you were fourteen, Reid,” you joked, earning a chuckle from Hotch in the process “Okay fellas, since it’s Valentine’s let’s go with a spicy game, so we have ‘Never have I ever’, ‘Strip poker’, or ‘Truth or Dare’. Spencer, since it’s your first time, why don’t you choose first?”

Your partner fiddled with the chopsticks in his hands, lips pursed pretending to ever consider it “Strip poker.” he stated with an innocent and hopeful smile. You and Aaron broke into a surprised and nervous laugh, you exchanged looks for a second and decided that, well, even if stripping in your office wasn’t on your bucket-list, it would still make an interesting anecdote.

Big mistake. You forgot two very important facts: one, doctor Reid was banned from every casino in Las Vegas, and two, when men play this game with a woman involved, they tend to team up with a very clear purpose in mind. After just ten minutes of playing, your bra was on full display, blazer, blouse and shoes long gone, yet managing to keep your lower clothing intact. Hotch remained with his white button-up shirt and pants, and Reid only having lost as much as his sweater vest.

“Full house.” Aaron said as he opened his cards, clearly beating Reid’s straight. He turned to look at you, eyeing your last garment, but a pleading expression appeared on your face and caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’m using my winning privileges to change the game. Let’s do Never Haver I ever.” you put your hands together thankfully, and Spencer huffed his cheeks in disappointment.

You took a moment to top everyone’s drink up, and after you had taken a sip, you began to talk “Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy with someone from the office.” you said and watched with amusement how both of your friends sipped at their drinks, regardless of you being the question host, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t, so you had to take a sip was well.

“Never have I ever gotten a lap dance.” was Spencer’s turn to speak, and both your boss and you had to drink. He appeared to be embarrassed at the fact of being the only one left out, and you chuckled at his cute expression.

“Never have I ever…” Hotch began “…had a threesome.” there was a bit of an awkward silence as you stared at each other intently, noticing how none of you would bring the mug to your lips.

“Never have I ever wanted a threesome.” you dared to ask during your turn, and in perfect unison the three of you downed a bit of your beverages. There was an exchange of looks afterwards, and your brains all seemed to be working in the same direction.

“Never have I ever felt sexual attraction for a person in this room.” Reid asked, and yet again the entire group drank up.

Hotch’s throat cleared up, and being the voice of reason, aware that you were still in an FBI building, he decided to take the questioning in another direction. “Never have I ever done a body shot.” he said.

“Taken off of me? Or me taking it from someone else’s body?” you asked trying to clarify the question “Actually, you know what? Doesn’t matter, just remembered I’ve done both.” you answered yourself nonchalantly and proceeded to take the corresponding liquid; to your surprise, however, you saw how both of your companions remained still. “Wait, for real?” you asked, taking turns to look at both of them.

Spencer simply shook his head, lips pursed, and Hotch shrugged it off “I wasn’t really a frat party guy.” the older man admitted.

“Come on. Unacceptable.” you stood up and grabbed the bottle of rum in your hands. You looked around, Spencer’s desk was a mess, so you decided to move over to Emily’s ‘she will understand’ you told yourself. The two men followed you with puzzled expressions. You laid down on top of your friend’s workspace, still shirtless, and pointed in the direction of your boss “Let’s go old school for you.” you said with a smirk as you bent the bottle over your stomach, letting some of the liquid fall and spill over your belly button.

Hotch cocked an eyebrow, but curiosity got the best of him. He unbuttoned the top part of his shirt, a clear attempt to not mess it up, and took a step closer. You could feel his lips land on your stomach, and the way his tongue dug in the concave area caused a slight moan to come out of your mouth, your hand lowering to land on the nape of his neck, keeping his head in place. After he was done sucking the liquid, he pressed a couple of open mouthed kisses higher up your stomach, and stopped himself right before your chest.

“I can see the appeal of that.” he muttered while wiping his mouth to get rid of some of the dripping liquor. He turned to look at Reid, who was watching the situation with a flustered face, and signaled for him to take his turn. Startled, the blond man hurried to your side, but before he let the fluid down your body, you darted up to be sitting instead.

“Hold on, I have something else in mind for the doctor.” you stopped him, a mischievous smile on your face. You fixed your position and tilted your head to expose the right side of your neck, your finger pointed at the base, indicating that he should put his mouth there. He complied to your instructions, positioning his head at the base with an open mouth, he proceeded to tilt the bottle letting the rum slide down the side of your neck directly into it. Once he had enough of the drink, he laid the bottle back onto the desk, his hands instinctively gripped the sides of your hips to keep you still as he licked the trail of wetness the alcohol had left on your neck; he mimicked Aaron’s actions and sneaked a couple of nibbles to the sides of your neck. In the heat of the moment, and with his blood rushing everywhere, he lifted his head and attempted to capture your lips in a kiss.

Your reflexes were fast, and before he could land them on you, your hand came in between. “Ah, ah!” you exclaimed with provocation in your voice “If you want to go there, then we’re going to have to change the game.” you pushed him slightly by his chest and he retracted his hands, stepping back with a slight hint of embarrassment in his face, at which Hotch smirked; he found fascinating how you had him on his toes since the very first moment. “That leaves us with Truth or Dare, doesn’t it?” you clarified “Since it’s my turn, I’ll go first. Say, Reid, Truth or dare?” you turned to face the slender figure in front of you.

“Truth.” he said convincedly, his hands undoing a couple of his buttons to allow for the cool air to enter.

“Out of every girl in the office, who would you like to fuck the most?” you batted your eyes at him, your legs swinging as they hung from the desk you were still sitting on.

He took a second and licked his lips before he answered, apparently unwavering “You.” he let out after some thought.

Next to you, you could hear Aaron scoff “Playboy.” he muttered “We know it’s JJ.” he added.

“A liar, just like any other man” you joked, but instead a frown formed on the doctor’s face.

“Alright, enough.” he fixed his eyes on yours “Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Dare” you said with a cocky smile.

“Take off those pants.” Spencer commanded. Hotch raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the proposal.

“You’ve been waiting for that since strip poker, haven’t you?” you snarked at him “Okay, pretty boy, but I get to help you strike one of your ‘never have I ever’ experiences.” Without further explanation, you hopped off the surface and took his hand to pull him along as you walked to your chairs. The second you were in front of them, you pushed him back until his legs hit the edge of the seat, forcing him to fall onto it. Before Spencer could understand what was happening, your back was already facing him, and your ass was grinding on his lap.

Hotch had taken his seat as well, legs spread open with his hand dangerously close to his own crotch, simply admiring the way you moved on top of the youngest. Your body rolled as you danced teasingly over Reid, your pants slowly coming further down until your ass was on full display, only covered by the panties you had chosen for that day. You turned yet again to lay your knees on each side of the seat, straddling his front, your eyes lustfully staring into his as your fingers worked to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “And to prove you I’m a good sport, I’m going to throw in something extra.” you smiled at him and shortly your lips were onto his, from the beginning, the kiss was sloppy and open-mouthed, your tongues tangling together as they moved hungrily.

His hands, out of habit, lifted to land on your ass, and you swatted at them with a disapproving sound. “I didn’t say you could touch.” he winced in protest at your words, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep them to himself. Instead, you reached out for the desk in which your belongings still laid and took a hold of the handcuffs you used to carry. You distracted him with your lips once again, having him focusing only on the kiss, he didn’t notice when your hands caressed down his arms to place them behind the chair, and it wasn’t until he heard the clicking of the cuffs that he broke away from it.

“What are you doing?” he asked with startled eyes.

“Making sure you behave.” you answered, your head tilting to have your mouth on the side of his neck instead, nibbling on a spot like he had done before on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, just allowing himself to enjoy the warm sensation of your tongue on his skin, your hips occasionally rolling on his crotch, which felt tighter by the second.

“Hey, Reid” the both of you were slightly startled by Hotch’s voice coming behind you, but you kept going into providing your friend some friction; Spencer on the other hand replied with a questioning hum “Truth or dare?” Aaron asked.

“D-Dare” he barely managed to stutter out. The second he got his answer, the boss stood up from his seat, his hands working on undoing the pieces of clothing that were holding his member captive. Once his underwear was moved aside, his cock slapped against his stomach, slightly pink from the way he was rubbing it over his pants during your little lap dance.

He walked in your direction and landed a hand on your ass gently, giving it a light squeeze to enjoy the sensation of your soft skin, then they travelled up to grab the hem of your panties, pulling them down to your thigh level. He gripped at your hips to draw them up, causing your ass to perk up and your clothed chest to be pressed further against Reid’s. His fingers curiously travelled in between your legs, and you could feel his thumb press flat against your slippery slick.

Your lips had moved back to Spencer’s, and a moan got caught up on your throat at Aaron’s touch. You broke the kiss to look back with surprise in your eyes. You watched him bring the fluid-covered thumb to his mouth and taste you with utter excitement.

“I dare you to watch me fuck her first.” he stated with his eyes completely fixed on yours as he finished removing the shirt that still covered his torso. You couldn’t really process what he had just said, and what was even more puzzling was, now that you had gotten a good look at his dick, how were you going to take all of him?

He didn’t give you much time to keep thinking before you could feel him entering you. His hand pumping the base of his own member until it was covered by your pussy, however, he allowed a couple of seconds for you to get used to his size. As you felt him slide into you, your hands traveled up to tangle on Spencer’s hair, clutching on it for dear life, your head laid on his shoulder and you let out a loud, high pitched moan, at the feeling of being full of your boss.

You could hear Spencer wiggle beneath you, trying to get rid of the cuffs that were holding him back. He exchanged a look with Hotch, an almost offended one, and the older man answered with pressing his index finger to his lips, indicating the younger to keep quiet “Watch and learn.” with those words, his hips began to move. He was slow and gentle at first, causing you to be panting against your friend’s neck softly, but not long after his pace began to pick up.

The entire office was quiet not being for the loud smacks of Aaron’s balls against your skin. His cock hitting your deepest sides over and over again. You held onto Reid for balance, your hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders to prop yourself up. You face was right in front of him, your mouth slightly parted open letting the noises flow, your forehead laid on top of his, and you stared into his eyes, showing you just how good your boss was fucking you.

You let out a cry after a particularly rough thrust that Hotch hit you with, and Spencer took the advantage to lean up and press his lips back onto yours, nibbling and twisting his tongue around like his life depended on it. He didn’t like feeling left out, so he was trying his best to shower every bit of the skin he had access to with sloppy and wet kisses.

Perhaps Hotch was going too hard on him, his dick still pounding against you at a steady pace, and having his subordinate confined to a chair, fucking the girl he clearly liked. With a rough tug, he ripped the safety pins of your bra open, and from the movement of having your hips repeatedly pummeled, they bounced off the garment on their own. You leaned forward so they would be dangling over Spencer’s face, the new angle not only allowing your dark-haired partner to access new angles, but also gave the doctor chance to catch one of your nipples into his mouth.

He was sloppy, but never carless, his tongue moved around your breast, hungrily, the noises of sucking and popping filling your ears along with Aaron’s growls that, you noticed, had began to be much deeper. A wave of confidence hit you at the desperation that you were making him feel, and with Spencer busy with your chest, you turned your head around, a smug, shitty smirk on your face. “Truth or dare, Aaron?” you asked.

“Dare.” he said without flinching, his eyes fixed on you, his hips keeping the steady, although slightly erratic pace.

“I dare you to make me cum before you do. Bet you can’t do it with how close you are.” your tone was not only daring, buck even mocking.

One thing about Aaron Hotchner, he liked abiding by the law, but he did not enjoy being told what to do, or being challenged in any way, it hurt his ego, and it brought out the worst in him. Without warning, he landed a loud smack on your ass, same one that caused a loud wince out of your mouth “Shit, Aaron!” you were about to turn around and complain at the surprising, yet not unwelcome, roughness, but the slight pain of your hair being pulled shut you up. He grabbed you by the head to pull you upwards and away from Reid’s lap; you stumbled a bit as you got back on your feet, and he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you from falling down, or his dick from slipping out. In a quick motion, you removed the bra that kept dangling from your arms and ended up kicking down the panties that had slipped down to your knees, leaving you bare naked in front of Spencer who was staring from his restricted seat. Aaron’s hand moved from your hair to your chin, turning your face in his direction to be able to attack your mouth with his, his tongue forced it’s way in and you almost choked at the lack of air. The hand around your waist kept you secured as he kept thrusting into you, your moans coming out from your throat directly into his mouth; said hand slipped further down, making its way in between your legs to have his index finger rub around your clit.

His hips snapped faster each time, but the circles drawn around your sensitive nub remained to a steady, slightly slow pace. Your knees began to give in, and he was holding you up by the mere use of his hand against your pussy. Spencer could only observe from a few steps away, how another man, your boss nonetheless, was causing you so much bliss. His dick began to twitch inside his pants, and his hips rolled trying to get friction, any source of friction, from them.

One of your hands clung from Aaron’s neck, while the other tried to keep balance by gripping onto the desk. You began to clench around Hotch, who was already struggling to keep his noises at bay, releasing them right into your mouth. “Aaron…” you moaned against his lips, letting him know that you were close. His finger quickened its pace on your clit, you began to clench repeatedly, and your stomach began to tighten, and just before you could feel the sweet release of your climax, Aaron Hotchner pulled out of you, his hand leaving your sensitive area, and his lips breaking away.

You yelled a curse in his direction, and he grabbed you by the wrist in response, his face visibly annoyed since, for the sake of his teasing, he had accidentally denied his own orgasm. He tugged on your hand before you could protest any longer and directed you to Reid, making a sign with his hand for you to kneel down, and you obeyed. Without much as a word, and Spencer dumbfoundedly looking down at you, he walked around the chair with the cuff keys that he took from the desk, kneeled, and freed Reid’s hands from their confinement; the youngster took a second to rub at his hands that had gone slightly numb and observed the actions of your boss. Hotch walked behind you and reached for your arms, pulling both behind your back, you also didn’t quite comprehend what was going on, but you were so focused on Spencer’s pretty face, his swollen lips from the kissing, and the uncomfortable shuffle he made to try and satisfy his need for attention down there that you didn’t care about whatever Aaron was doing to you.

“You created this little club to not spend Valentine’s alone, didn’t you, Reid?” he said in the blond man’s direction “And yet, you’re the only one unattended. That doesn’t seem fair, does it? She went around parading another man fucking her, with only a couple of kisses to keep you going.” he shook his head disapprovingly, his hand then moved to the back of your head, and gently pushed it forward, allowing your cheek to rest on Spencer’s bulge. “He even paid for the food, time to pay him back, treat him nicely.” he commanded.

Your eyes had locked with Reid’s the entire time. You were more than pleased to be of service to him, he deserved to be praised, and treated, like nothing but a king, and you intended to do so. You wiggled your body to be further in between his legs and tilted your head up, staring at him as you opened your mouth, showing him that you were ready to take him in. His heart felt like jumping off his chest, and he used his newly-freed hands to cup your face, bend down, and land a passionate kiss on your lips. He was softer compared to Hotch, tender even, as he had been waiting his entire life to do that, even if he had done it minutes before.

After he was satisfied, he pulled back to fiddle with his pants. Once he moved his boxers aside, his member darted out, accidentally landing right across your face. You heard him mutter a quiet ‘sorry’ and you could see the red tint adorning his face again. You giggled to yourself and tilted your head to finally have his tip inside your mouth. You took a tentative, gentle suck at it, and the high pitched moan that he let out was all the encouragement you needed to keep going. You began to bob up and down, making sure to take more of him each time. His own head was thrown back, eyes closed as he let himself be pleasured.

In the meantime, Aaron kneeled right behind you. He double checked that the cuffs weren’t too tight, the intention was never to hurt you, and once he got confirmation, he positioned his still hard dick at the height of your hands still forced together. His fingers guided yours gently to wrap around his shaft, and he began to thrust slowly into it. You could feel his tip hit your back time and again as he fucked your tied-up hands slow enough to keep his erection, but not so fast to make himself come.

Spencer’s moans were a higher pitch and came out more repeatedly. His hands had moved your hair and he was helping you move your head back and forth. The excitement kept running through your veins, you could barely move, your knees hurting a little bit from being on the floor, but there was nothing you could do about it, and the mere feeling of being bound to provide these men with pleasure was keeping you on the edge, still unable to release.

Reid’s grip tightened around your hair, and you could feel how he kept you still. You braced yourself for the thrusts that were about to come, and they did not disappoint. With every jump of his hip, you could feel him hit the backside of your mouth, dangerously close to going into your throat. “You’re taking me so well, so fucking good.” the blond man praised, and your eyes traveled up in attempt to see him, his own met your sight, and he took a second to push a strand of hair behind your ear. His hips buckled up a couple more times, with your lips tightening around him. You wanted to taste him, you were eager to do so, but alas these men had entirely different plans for you.

As he felt his stomach cramping in pleasure, Spencer decided to remove himself from your mouth, to which you yet again complained. He signaled Hotch to get up, and he gently helped you stand by grabbing you around the shoulders. “I wanted to taste you!” you cried out with a huff of your cheeks, turning your head to look at Reid.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you will get the chance, I’m nowhere near done.” he directed you to Emily’s desk once again, poor girl will have to throw away the whole thing by the time the night ends, and he guided you as if he was transporting an unsub to a holding cell, Hotch following behind. His hand landed on your head and he forced it forward to have you bent over the wooden surface, your ass out in his direction. He positioned himself at your entrance and easily began to push in. You let out a moan of pure bliss at the sensation of being filled again, this time around with Spencer’s pinkish cock.

His thrusts were gentle compared to Aaron’s, but the pace was rather quicker and deep, he was desperate to feel you. One of his hands landed on the mark that his boss had previously left on you, squeezing it with what seemed almost like rage. The other hand tangled itself on the chain of the cuffs, using it as support to continue pulling your body against his hips. You began to whimper once again, almost like cries, from feeling so close, so fast, more intense than before.

“If you don’t mind…” Hotch’s voice snapped you out of your own mind “…I’ll be using this side” your body was positioned close to the edge, your cheek laying on the surface facing the hall; Hotch stood in front of your mouth, guiding the tip to your lips, not quite pushing in yet. The opening of your mouth was the approval he needed to finally slide his length in the slippery hole. Unlike Spencer, he wasn’t paying particular attention to how deep he went, his hips continuing to push trying to find the pleasure he had taken from himself moments before.

Down south, Spencer’s eyes were focused on your ass, it looked so magnificent, swallowing him in without protesting. He could feel you twitching, you felt heavenly to him, never did he imagine he would actually have the chance to fuck you, let alone have you whimper because of him, so desperately. He wanted to make you cum, to have you trembling in a way Hotch couldn’t do it. His fingers slid in between your thighs in a similar fashion, and his index yet again began paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were going on overdrive, your bottom half was getting attention everywhere, and your top could barely hold any air from the thick member using your mouth as his personal flesh light. “I’ve seen every landscape in this country,” Hotch began to say, his eyes staring tenderly down at you “and there’s no prettier sight than you like this, taking me all in.” the praise sent shockwaves all over your body, and your walls began to clench around Spencer.

He was trying to keep himself sane, not wanting to come just yet, he wanted to give you more pleasure, to have you wobbling even more. “Hey, truth or dare?” he asked in between grunts as he tapped on your back, letting you know the question was for you “If I remember correctly, it’s my turn.” he clarified. Aaron’s cock, however, was not giving you much of an opportunity to answer. You made random sounds around his length, and the vibrations gave him an extra wave of pleasure.

“She said ‘Truth’” your boss translated for him, a prideful smirk plastered all over his face, pleased with the fact that he was barely letting you speak.

“Whose dick tastes best?” Spencer shot Hotch a smug look and he replied with a shake of his head.

You pulled back, letting go of Aaron’s cock in attempt to answer the question “Yo-“ before you could even began the sentence, your boss’s hands guided your head into its previous position and thrusted his shaft back inside your mouth; you complied and continued swallowing your cheeks around it. It was Hotch’s turn to look smug, and Spencer chuckled at his actions.

The situation was becoming almost unbearable, you needed to come, you were so close, and here they were playing ‘who wore it best?’ with your mouth for a gown. Spencer seemed to notice your desperation when your eyes began to tear up. His hips changed positions, and it hit a spot so sweet you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your walls clenched around him, your mouth let go of Aaron’s dick to allow your voice to come through “Fuck, Spencer! Inside, come inside!” you begged as your release began to drip down your thigh.

Your partner obeyed your commands, and he pulled roughly on the cuffs to have his member all the way inside of you as he spilled his seed. You shut your eyes and smiled to yourself, it felt so good to be filled up, specially by someone you had wanted to fuck for so long. Light curses and a mention of your name left his lips, he gave a couple more thrusts trying to ride down his high, and finally pulled out of you.

Hotch had taken the lead on himself to let you enjoy your orgasm; he continued to jerk off at a fast pace in front of you, his tip basically rubbing the side of your face. You were about to take him back in when he moved, and you noticed he was walking towards your rear. Panic drew in your eyes, and you cried out beggingly “Aaron, please don’t, I can’t take anymore.” you whispered in his direction.

“It’ll be one second.” he said, and you braced yourself for yet another round of overstimulation. Instead, you felt how his tip slid in an out a couple of times, and he walked back to have his hips at the same level as your face. You watched in awe how his member was coated in what seemed like cum, and you looked up with surprise “If I remember correctly, you wanted to taste him” if your brain hadn’t been just freshly fucked, you would have given than man round three right there. You opened your mouth widely, and he pressed his shaft once again. He held you still by the head as he continued to thrust, considerably faster this time, and moments after he pushed deeply in, allowing his release to spill inside your mouth. He must have been pent up, because it became a little hard to hold all of it in. Your tongue rolled around, taking a second to taste both loads along with some of your own fluids.

He pulled back after he made sure everything was released, but his hand tugged at your chin to force it up and closed, not permitting that anything were to spill. “Truth or dare.” he asked as the final question of the game.

“Dare” you barely mumbled.

“Swallow.” was his last command, and you more than happily obliged.

Spencer stood in shock watching the scene, like whatever had taken over him had finally left his body. Hotch seemed to be the same, his stern glare softening once again to the relaxed one he had outside of work. Reid hurried to get the key and undid the bind on your hands, Hotch grabbed your shoulders and helped you straighten back up so you could be standing once again. “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I don’t think my throat is in the right place because of you, and you ask if I’m okay?” you snarked playfully. The three of you shared a laugh, and Hotch offered a sincere apology, which you shrugged off since it was not big deal, not like you didn’t enjoy it anyways. Spencer walked back to his desk to slide into his pants, suddenly self-conscious about his body being exposed, and threw his shirt loosely over his shoulders before starting to gather your clothes together.

Your boss reached for his jacket and laid it over your shoulders before he started to get dressed as well “Reid.” he said in a commanding voice, back to the boss demeanor he usually had “Help her get cleaned up and then take her home.” he turned at you instead “I don’t want you driving after that, got it?” his words made you blush slightly, he seemed like a completely different person, but you nodded in response.

“You’re not going out with us?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I need to oversee that the floor gets cleaned and Emiliy’s desk gets…” he made a pause, looking at the surface covered in sweat and other fluids “…burned down, hopefully” he joked. Both of you agreed with the statement, but before Reid could direct you to the office's bathroom, Hotch took a step forward in between the two of you “Hey,” he spoke up to get your attention, his hands laid gently on your face once it turned to him and he leaned in to place a gentle, but deep, kiss to your lips “thank you for tonight, I had a lovely evening.” he smiled as he spoke.

You tried your best to suppress a wide smile “Well,” you started “I would say ‘anytime’, but this club kind of only gets together once a year.” you joked.

“Can’t wait until next year, then.” he answered without even looking up as he revised the countless messages that he got while he was occupied. He patted Reid on the shoulder as a goodbye and headed back to his office.

After everything was clean on your body, and you didn’t look like you had just been attacked by hyenas, Spencer walked you out of the FBI building. The trip down the elevator being slightly too quiet for someone who had just moved your liver to a completely different position. Your legs began to wobble again, feeling like they were going to give in, and Spencer stepped closer to offer his body for support. “You can lean on me.” he said with a gentle smile, and you took his word “By the way, you still owe me one answer that, if I remember correctly, was cruelly taken from me.” he said as he chuckled recalling the scene.

You laughed along “Alright, rules are rules, do you want to ask the same question, or would you like to change it?”

“Actually, I think I’ll change it.” his arm darted out to surround your shoulders with it, making the position more stable for you “Would you like to do this again sometime? Minus Hotch, of course.” he diverted his gaze as he asked.

You tilted your head with surprise, yet another blush creeping at your face. “You mean, like, next Valentine’s?” you asked with genuine surprise.

“Well, that, or,” he chuckled to himself, finally daring to look back at you “next Friday? Preferably after dinner.”

There was no holding back the bright smile that appeared on your face, or the flutter in your stomach. Your head leaned on his shoulder, and you could feel his land on top of yours in a loving embrace.

“Deal.”

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reif fanfic #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #i didnt proof read so im vry sorry ill edit later!! #happy valentines lonely people #fan fic: spencer #fanfic: spencer #fanfic: hotchner #fanfic: criminal minds

[works-of-fanfiction]

The Love of Another - Part One || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating (loose mentions of Cillian being divorced).

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: I’ve been wanting to write for Cillian for a while, so I hope this reaches the right people! My blog has always been mixed so why not include some more fics with more people?

“I miss you too.” She sighed, sinking deeper into the bathtub with her phone balancing on the ledge. Dipping her head underneath the water, she missed her husband’s next words and came back to the surface with a small splash. The tub was filled just an inch too high, suds lapping over the edge and wetting the bathmat below. “I didn’t catch that last bit. What did you say?”

 “I asked if Cillian had stolen my wife yet.” Her husband chuckled, the laughter trailing off when she didn’t immediately respond. “Y/N?”

She sighed, this time in frustration, as she reached with a wet hand to grab the phone. “I can’t even tell if you’re joking anymore.”

There was silence. Then a stutter. “What? Obviously, I’m kidding!”

“Are you though? These so-called jokes about Cillian are becoming a little too frequent…” She looked up to the ceiling, mentally recounting the three previous occasions in that week alone that he’d felt the need to bring her co-star into the conversation. “You call me to check in, but it feels like you’re really calling to see if I’m with someone else.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. This isn’t the first time you’ve been weary of one of my co-stars. I’m not here on holiday, I’m working.”

“I know – “

“So, please stop calling me and accusing me of something you know I would never do. I married you.”

As much as her husband had always supported her career, he’d never gotten used to seeing her play alongside different men. Kissing and romantic scenes made his skin crawl, and now she was a regular on one of the country’s most loved shows and spending a lot of time around the same man, his suspicions only grew. He was well-known to jump to the wildest of conclusions.

He mumbled an apology, and Y/N made an excuse to cut their call short, tossing the phone onto the pile of laundry on the floor. Huffing, she sank back below the bubbles and turned the tap with her foot, adding more hot water. “Marriage…” She muttered to herself, sniggering before closing her eyes and dunking her head beneath the water once again.

She scrubbed at her scalp, relieving tension from the day, and loosening the insane amount of hairspray that had been holding her hair down since eight o’clock that morning. Holding her breath, she stayed underwater for a moment, savouring the few minutes a day she could spend in silence.

The hot water showering her feet stopped and she sat up, pushing her wet hair out of her face. “What was that about marriage?” A familiar voice asked, and she opened her eyes, vision adjusting to the figure sat on the edge of the bath looking down at her. “Let me guess… It’s not all it’s cracked up to be?” He laughed, tugging at the knot in his tie. His hair was fluffy and messy from wearing a hat all day, his collar slightly dirtied from the face powder the make-up team had spent the evening reapplying beneath the hot, harsh lights of the soundstage. Still, he looked like he’d barely done a day’s work and the way that suit hugged his body made Y/N’s stomach flutter.

“Definitely not when your husband doesn’t trust you.”

“And what reason would he have not to trust you? Because…” He stood, slipping off his shoes and pulling the tie off, letting it join her clothes in the corner. “I can’t think of a single one.” He shrugged his jacket off and hung it on the door handle, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows.

She giggled as he lifted his foot and stepped into the bath, most of his clothes still on. The water lapped over the side and soaked the floor as he clumsily knocked the shampoo bottles over. She squeezed her legs together and he knelt over her, lowering his upper body towards her, but keeping a hold of the tub to steady himself. “Cillian!” She squealed, watching the water seep into his shirt and trousers.

“Sorry, love. Forgot to ask. Can I join you?” He smirked, cupping water into his hand and dampening his hair with it. With flushed cheeks, whether from the humidity in the room or Cillian’s presence, she smiled at him, reaching out to run her fingers along his jaw.

“Wardrobe are going to kill you.”

“It’s a good thing they’ve got two more suits just like it then, isn’t it?”

“Hm, it feels weird seeing you dressed like that, sounding like that.” 

“Would you prefer I talk like this, Mrs Shelby?” He adopted his signature Brummie accent from the show, instantly snapping into character and gazing at her through furrowed brows. She stifled back a laugh, unable to take him seriously with his soddened shirt and hands slipping along the bathtub’s edge. “You’re not supposed to be finding this funny.” His accent melted back to normal through the sentence, a smile creeping onto his own face. 

“Sorry, I just don’t see Tommy Shelby diving into a bath on top of his missus.” 

“That’s because he’d probably be the one on the bottom.” He teased, dipping a hand into the water and settling it on her waist. 

“Don’t get too comfortable. Believe it or not I was enjoying my bath before a fully clothed hooligan decided to jump in.” She propped herself up and fiddled with his buttons, her wet fingers making it a little difficult. She started from the bottom and he gave her a hand up top, before he peeled the damp garment off his body. 

“Is that better?” He quipped, as she stared at his character’s tattoo which had started to smudge from a mixture of water and sweat. Nodding, she ran her fingers over his chest, smearing the design even more. “Are you going to wash me? Is that it?” 

“Well you need it. You’ve got more makeup on than I’ve had all series!” 

“Then let’s get these trousers off too, eh?”

Lying on Cillian’s chest, Y/N listened to his breathing and heart beating. The low light in the bedroom made her eyes feel heavy, but she wasn’t tired enough to sleep just yet. His hand absentmindedly played with her hair, gently massaging her scalp with the very tips of his fingers, being careful not to scratch her. These moments behind closed doors away from prying eyes were their most cherished. They spoke about their days, the hours spent together and apart. Y/N praised Cillian for his performance in a scene earlier that day, and he tried his best to deflect the compliment and switch the subject to her scenes instead. “Will you ever accept my compliments?” She teased, poking him in the chest.

“I will accept your compliments if…” He started, stopping to think. She sat up, looking at him in anticipation. “If you let us finally talk about your birthday.”

“Cillian…”

“You know the studio are going to go all out. You can’t avoid it.”

“I’m turning thirty. I’m ancient! This is not something to be celebrated.” Covering her eyes, she shook her head and groaned. Cillian laughed, lightly swatting her hands away from her face.

“If you’re ancient, then what am I?”

“Men age better, you don’t count. Just let me enjoy my last few days of being twenty-nine.”

His chuckling made her frown twist into a smirk which she tried to hold back. Gazing at her with sleepy blue eyes, he scooted closer cupping her cheek in his hand. “I seem to remember your birthday being rather special.” He cooed, his thumb lightly stroking the soft skin below her eye. She sighed, remembering the moment like it was just days ago.

Thinking back to it with such fondness was wrong. She knew that. One moment on her twenty-ninth birthday snowballed into something so much bigger, and the lingering thirtieth celebrations reminded her just how badly things had gotten out of hand. The lapse in time made it impossible to take everything back. However, selfishly, given the chance, she knew she wouldn’t change a thing.

“Cillian…” She whispered breathlessly, his face still close and mouth still hot against hers. He drew back, his hands remaining on her cheeks, fingertips brushing the skin below her earlobes.

As her eyes fluttered open to meet his, he suddenly let go, catching his head in his right hand. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” He stumbled over his words, looking around the room in a panic, eyes darting to the door that was still clearly open, wide enough for anyone to walk past and see what he did. What they did.

“I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck, you’re married! What the hell is wrong with me?”  

She stood there, hands trembling by her sides as she watched his gaze jump across the floor, his feet struggling to stay still. Her lips tingled and stung from the contact, almost desperate to kiss him again, to feel his hands on her body. They’d kissed a hundred times on set; playing husband and wife meant that physical contact was just another part of the job, but he’d never kissed her like this. So tender. So slow. Their onscreen kisses were robotic in comparison.

“No one has to know.” The words spilled out of her mouth before her brain could catch up, her arm reaching out for him. He dared himself to look back up to see her flushed cheeks and freshly kissed lips, plump and pink, glistening and hungry for more. Something twisted inside his stomach, and her lashes fluttered innocently in his direction like they were two teenagers in love. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, like his stare could burn holes through her body.

“No one – has – to know.” She stepped closer with each word, her body making the decisions for her. This feeling and attraction towards Cillian was certainly nothing new, but she never thought he’d return her affection.

Cillian searched for reassurance in her eyes, making sure she really meant what she said as her fingers traced the stitching along his sleeve. Sensing his apprehension, she slipped her hand into his. He sighed, the heat from her fingers sending electricity through his veins, a feeling that felt so right despite how wrong it was.

“We should get back to your party.” He breathed, the muffled sounds of voices and music somehow growing louder as if they were getting closer to the door, closer to finding them together. “Your guests they… Well, you don’t want to keep them waiting.” 

“Cillian.” She uttered quietly, pleading for him to look her in the eye and tell her she hadn’t just dreamt the past few minutes. She needed something, anything that would serve as confirmation that she hadn’t imagined it. That she hadn’t imagined his hands holding her face, pulling her to him, their bodies moulding together as their lips met for what felt like the very first time. This was no rehearsed kiss inside four cold white walls; this wasn’t in front of a crew of ten men with cameras zooming in on their faces. This was between the two of them. Raw and real. 

Defeated, she dropped his hand and headed to the door. Gripping the handle, she went to pull it towards her until Cillian pressed a firm hand against the wood, slamming it into its frame. He cornered her, his intense stare making her neck hot and her cheeks visibly pinker.

The kiss was hesitant at first; their movements staggered and filled with doubt yet fuelled by longing and the sheer desperation to feel each other again. Once each were confident that the other wanted the same thing, they melted into one another’s grasp, Cillian’s hands tangling into her hair, Y/N’s fingers clutching onto his shirt as if he could disappear at any moment. It was feverish, like a craving had finally been satiated for them both. They knew there was no going back now. They were in this, and they’d have to spend every waking moment hiding it from everyone they knew, both mutual and individual. 

“That means it’s been a year since…” 

“Since this started.” Cillian waved his finger between himself and Y/N, a reminiscent smile on his face. She never knew how to react when they actually sat and talked about their relationship. It was undoubtedly easier for Cillian, being divorced and completely free to do and see whoever he wanted, but Y/N was still very much married and playing a dangerous game. Every day she lied to her husband’s face and made fun of his insecurities surrounding Cillian. Little did he know, he had every right to be worried about his wife’s co-star, considering he was the one who wound up in her bed at the end of most days.

Cillian opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He knew diving into the specifics of their affair made Y/N uneasy. She didn’t like to talk about her marriage; she preferred to pretend that what she and Cillian had was healthy and real. If she didn’t think about her husband, she could convince herself she wasn’t hurting anybody.

“We should get some sleep.” He said comfortingly, wrapping an arm around her as she laid back on his chest. Y/N knew he was trying to distract her from her thoughts, and she was all too willing to escape them, so she closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come quickly.

“Happy birthday!” The cast and crew cheered, clapping and whooping as Y/N stepped onto set. She grinned in faux surprise having been pre-warned by Cillian that they were planning something. A table littered with cupcakes and cookies stood at the side with some crew members already lingering, hoping for an early treat.

“Thanks guys! You shouldn’t have done all of this for me.” Y/N smiled, hugging various people and receiving more birthday wishes as she made her way around the room. Cillian stood by the cameras pretending to look busy, trying not to draw attention to himself. To the outside world they were just castmates, friends at a push. People praised them for their work and chemistry onscreen, unaware of the true feelings below the surface, and the two had grown very good at playing acquaintances around others.

Reaching Cillian, he gave her a quick side hug and a friendly smile. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He said politely, pulling a small card out of his pocket. “It’s nothing special.” He raised his voice to purposely reach those around them.

“Thank you, Cillian. I’ll add it to the pile.” She beamed, knowing she definitely wouldn’t be adding his card to any pile for anyone else to see. She didn’t know what he’d written, but judging by the glint in his eye, it wasn’t a decoy card to keep up appearances. It was the real thing, and he was playing with fire bringing it into the studio in the first place, but she’d chew his ear off about that later.

When everyone broke off for lunch, Y/N rushed off to her trailer, Cillian’s card burning a hole in her pocket. Throwing the door open, she was surprised to be greeted by a large cake on the counter, iced in her favourite colours with an obnoxious ‘30’ in the middle made from chocolate.

“It’s hazelnut. Your favourite.”

She spun around, confused, only to find her husband sprawled on the sofa behind her. “Surprise.” He grinned, opening his arms for her. She gulped, taking a step forward and leaning down to hug him. He shifted on the sofa, giving her enough space to sit in his lap as he squeezed her tight, feathering little kisses on her cheek.

Her body felt stiff in his arms from shock. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he would show up, but it made perfect sense. It was her thirtieth birthday, of course he was going to come!

Glancing out of the window over his shoulder, she saw Cillian engaged in an animated conversation with the producers, throwing his head back with laughter. She sighed, wishing there was a way out of this situation, wishing she could run out of the door and disappear with him, leaving the guilt and the pain behind. Hugging her husband felt wrong. She felt ashamed to be dreaming of another man whilst the one she’d sworn her love to was right there in front of her.

“Are you OK?” He asked, moving so they could sit side-by-side.

“Yeah, I’m just surprised!” She lied, her voice high-pitched and shaky. She felt Cillian’s card crumple in her back pocket, but she thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have it on show when she walked into the trailer.

“I had to come and see you on your birthday. What shall we do tonight?” His arm around her shoulder made her feel suffocated and she hoped the ground would somehow magically swallow her up. She shimmied out of his grasp, standing up.

“The crew have organised a night out. I can’t let them down.”

He stood up, his hand settling on her upper arms. “Then we’ll both go. That sound fun?”

Nodding, she closed her eyes, cringing as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I have another scene to shoot this afternoon. Will you be alright hanging in here for a while?”

“What? I can’t come and watch?”

“I don’t think it’s a scene you’d want to see.” Another lie. The scene was a simple conversation between two characters, no drama or romance involved, but it was easier to let him believe it was something he’d find unsettling. The first time he watched her kiss Cillian in a scene, he couldn’t shake the sickly feeling in his stomach all day. As harsh it was to use his insecurity against him, it was far easier than the truth.

I’m having an affair with my co-star who I repeatedly told you not to worry about, and you being here is complicating things further, so I’d rather not spend any more time around you than I have to.

Yeah… Lying was certainly easier.

“I guess I’ll just uh… Stick a film on then.” He shrugged, sitting back down.

“It shouldn’t take too long.” She hovered for a second, then remembered Cillian’s card again. “I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“OK.”

Locking herself behind the toilet door, she ripped open the card, stuffing the envelope into the small bin beside her.

‘Meet me in the wardrobe department at 1. I’ve got something for you.

Happy birthday, Mrs Shelby.

Yours,

Cillian x’

Her heart fluttered, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she re-read it a second time, then a third. What started as a joke between them became somewhat of a term of affection; calling each other Mr and Mrs Shelby. Cillian could certainly be corny when he wanted to be, but she was no better.

Checking the time on her phone, she had ten minutes to get to the wardrobe department and see Cillian before their lunch hour was over. Remembering her company outside the door, she counted a few seconds before flushing the toilet and rinsing her hands in the sink. She hid the card, pulling her shirt over her trousers so her husband couldn’t see a bump in her pocket.

“I have to go to wardrobe and get into my next outfit.” She muttered, fixing her hair in the mirror and rushing around to avoid making eye contact with her unwanted guest.

“Your lunchtime isn’t even over! Come on, babe. Sit down, let’s chat.”

“You know me, I like to be punctual.” She flashed him a weak smile, pulling out her phone to show him the time. “Plus, we both know how long it can take me to get ready.”

“Fine. But I’m buying you your first birthday drink tonight.”

“I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

He stood to hug her, but she dashed out of the door before he could even get close. Speedwalking to wardrobe, her mind raced back and forth between her husband and Cillian. She was supposed to be happy that he’d traveled all this way for her birthday. She was supposed to jump into his arms and declare how much she’d missed him over the past couple of months, not pray for him to go away. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get Cillian off her mind. He consumed her, emotionally, physically, in every way possible. She never meant for it to go this far, to feel this way, but she couldn’t control it.

Entering the room, she spotted Cillian’s shoes through the racks of clothing. She could hear him mumbling something to himself, but it wasn’t quite coherent. Once he spotted her, his face lit up, eyes twinkling as he gazed at the birthday girl. “Hi.” He whispered, edging closer to her.

“Hi, Cill.”

“I see you got my message.”

“I had to come and see what all the fuss was about.” She smiled, noticing a box on the table behind him. “Is that for me?”

“Impatient, aren’t you?”

“Just curious.” She teased.

Taking her hand in his, he fidgeted with the wedding band on her finger. It wasn’t hers, but her character’s, and Cillian wore a matching one in his role as Tommy. Looking down at their hands, Y/N couldn’t help but think about the ring that was usually in its place, or should’ve been had she not taken it off weeks ago. She thought back to her husband, sitting in her trailer watching some straight to DVD movie on the TV, counting down the minutes until he could finally spend some time with the woman he loved.

Cillian stole her attention, tilting her chin up with his thumb. “There’s something I need to tell you. You’re going to tell me I’m cheesy for saying it on your birthday but - “

“Cillian.”

“No, let me speak, please.” He went over his words again in his head, and Y/N began to panic as his eyes explored her face, pupils dilating. “Y/N, I love - “

“Cillian, my husband is here.” She blurted, exhaling a deep breath. His gaze didn’t leave hers, but the adoration in his eyes quickly switched to shock. His hand fell from her face, and he awkwardly gripped onto the hem of his jacket, rubbing the fabric between his finger and thumb as a distraction.

“…What?”

-

Next Part >

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy oneshot #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

[solecize]

fic preview: save the date | san x reader

from middle school walls to lecture halls, choi san was your ultimate nemesis that, for most of your life, fought to do everything better than you. even worse, there was no escape from him when your older sister and his older brother were childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love. years later, the inevitable wedding bells had now come around the corner for them and as her maid of honour, you had one goal: making sure nobody fucked up the wedding. specifically, you were not going to let san, the best man, fuck up the big day.

unfortunately, when the ring goes missing less than twenty hour hours before the wedding, you have no choice but to work with the said best man who you drunkenly slept with days before the wedding - yes, the same one that you hated for over a decade - to track down a ten thousand dollar ring. starting from midnight, it's a race against the clock for you and san to go on the wildest chase of your life to, well, save the date. 

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: san/female reader ��𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. non idol au, epic rom com, academic rivals, childhood enemies to lovers, fluff, slight angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. foul language, violence, blood, mention of drugs and drug use, general substance use (smoking and drinking), y/n and san get stranded in a foreign city together after embarking on adventure where they almost get scammed, jumped, etc., assigned seats on an airplane trope, unrequited pining, san gets a glo up after coming back from the military, more to be added 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. n/a 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. tbd.

  being entrusted with the role of maid of honour meant a lot of things to different people, but it was different for you. you happily accepted the title for your sister’s wedding with one main goal in mind: making sure that no one fucks up the big day. specifically, making sure that choi san did not fuck up the big day. 

  unfortunately, with less than twenty-four hours before the wedding due to ring for your sister and san’s older brother, you realized that you were the one that fucked up.

  if someone were to tell you that you ended up dodging a robbery, lugging around a broken e-scooter, outrunning a rabid wild animal, and losing your phone the night before your sister’s wedding, you would have asked them what drugs they were on. and given a year’s worth of stress in anticipating and planning and fittings, you’d likely even ask them to share some. the worse part was that, you’d actually fucked up forty-eight hours before your sister’s wedding and the night you were currently having was just the cherry on top.

  but, that is where you found yourself in a foreign city with no money and no idea how to get back to your hotel at four in the morning. the only thing you could do was stare at choi san, still in his clothes from the rehearsal dinner earlier that night and was preoccupied with nursing his bruised knuckles. 

  san was not a smoker, but he leaned against the wall of a closed coffee shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “you think this is all my fault, don’t you?” he grumbled, finally meeting your sharp gaze.

  this was not even the beginning of the story, though. the real beginning of the story begins in middle school circa 2012, when your first ever crush ruined everything before anything could even happen by simply opening his mouth. 

  choi san was the transfer student that all of the girls in your year whispered and giggled about. you only caught a glimpse of him on the first day of school when you could barely make out his face at the school assembly. 

  “he’s so freaking cute! did you get to see him, y/n?” 

  your best friend at the time jogged up to you at lunch and by this point in the day, you’d heard from nearly all your classmates about the mysterious new kid. you were a bit exasperated, feeling as though you were missing out.

  you shook your head. “no. i think i saw the side of his face, but that’s it.”

  “look at his instagram,” she swooned, tapping on her phone until his profile came up.

  you would never admit it aloud, but you thought your heart skip a beat. “that’s what he looks like? oh my god, he plays basketball, too?”

  that pretty much sealed the deal for you. without shame, you pulled out your own phone to follow san on social media, since it already looked like he was gaining mutuals from other people in your school. everyday from then on seemed to be a game of “can you spot your crush” at school and you got the closest when you lingered a little bit too long after gym class, long enough that you left as soon as basketball try-outs for the boys team began. 

  it was 2012 and nothing else mattered to you except crushing over choi san from respectable distance, gangnam style, one direction, and reading all of the hunger games books. it was like this for the first couple months at school, until you and san finally encountered one another.

  you heard from others that san was incredibly bright and academically gifted, so you were hoping that, he too, would join robotics club. it felt like a dream when your wishes came true and san walked into the first meeting of the season.

  “you’re totally staring at him,” whispered yeosang on this day, to which you elbowed him for. yes, you were definitely staring, but he could have just chose to keep his mouth shut.

  you’d avoided directly speaking to san for the first few meetings, just out of nerves alone. eventually, the club’s first major competition was to come around the corner and the club had to brainstorm their plan. 

  as one of the returning members from the year prior, you expected to be met with respect and have your opinions be considered important. the faculty supervisor had even told you that he had hopes for you taking over as captain in the next year, after the current leader, hongjoong, graduates. 

  “i can take charge of the programming team,” you offered, as hongjoong went over the challenge announcement of the competition.

  that was the moment everything went wrong.

  it looked there was no opposition, until you heard a chuckle from the other side of a room. you were confused, not recognizing the voice. spinning around, you saw that it was san and your heart dropped.

  “you? do you even know how to code?” his eyebrows were raised. 

  your jaw could have easily hit the floor, as you narrowed your eyes at him. “what?” was all you could say.

  “you’re a girl, there’s no way you should be in charge of programming.”

  that year, there were only three girls in robotics club, which was an improvement from the two the year before. it was you, who was the only female member with experience in the club, and then sunyoung and yena. 

  sunyoung never fucking spoke, she never even made eye contact with anyone. she kept to herself and was never going to speak up, but you knew that she was the highest ranking student in your year and had skipped an entire grade. you couldn’t believe sunyoung let that slide. meanwhile, yena always insisted that she was “one of the boys” and was the kind of girl to talk your head off about how she hates taylor swift. you might’ve even heard her murmur in agreement to what san said.

  “are you a fucking idiot?” your thirteen year old self snapped at san, eliciting gasps from around the room. 

  of course, your foul mouth came from none other than your headstrong older sister and at the same moment you began forming a life-long hatred for choi san, she was a couple blocks away at the high school, falling in love with choi san’s older brother during chemistry class. it was a classic high school love story, meeting as lab partners and experiencing first love in between shelves at the library. 

  one day, when your sister happily skipped into your room and sang that she now had a boyfriend, it had been weeks since you already declared san your nemesis. from what you remember, she was so head over heels for her lab partner that it was nauseating - she had to have been, since she was now marrying him over ten years later. 

  “he has a little brother your age, you know,” she said, later the same night. “goes to your school, maybe you’ve met him.”

  the two of you were relaxing on your bed, as your sister scooted closer to show you pictures of her new and first-ever boyfriend on her phone. you raised an eyebrow at her, wondering who she was talking about. 

  “maybe. what’s his name?” you asked.

  “san. choi san.”

#choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #choi san scenarios #choi san imagine #choi san x oc #choi san x you #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #choi san fluff #choi san angst #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #kpop fanfic

[cursedonyx]

The Bars Between Us

Sebastian Sallow x MC

Oneshot AU in which Sebastian was sent to Azkaban despite Ominis and MC (named Dracaena in this fic because it’s my current favourite name) trying to keep his secrets. Ominis and Dracaena spent the next several years trying to free him, and eventually succeed. Sebastian is not the same, Azkaban has sapped him of everything he once was, but a little TLC from the woman he has always loved sets him back on track.

Word Count – 8.6k

Warnings – Angst, traumatised Sebastian, aftermath of Azkaban, engaged Ominis/MC, Ominis approves MC sleeping with Seb, seriously Seb’s been through the wringer, Azkaban is horrible, nursing Seb back to health, smut (MDNI), handjob M!receiving, oral M!receiving, sub!Sebastian, MC feels a bit guilty bc her boy is a wreck

Six years.

It had been six years since the terrible events of fifth year, and six years since Sebastian had stood trial for the murder of Solomon Sallow. Six years since he was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Six years since Dracaena and Ominis had scrambled to find out who had condemned him, and vowed to make it right.

No sooner had they left Hogwarts, not able to fully appreciate the finality of riding the little boats across the Black Lake towards Hogsmeade station, leaving behind the place in which they had matured into adults, leaving behind the wonders and horrors in equal parts, that they both signed up for jobs at the Ministry for Magic, working in Magical Law Enforcement, searching for some kind of loophole, some kind of law, some kind of anything that would get their best friend released from hell.

After four agonising years, they managed it. Together, pouring over paperwork by candlelight until the small hours for months, they built a solid defence, their unwavering logic and staunch reasoning standing up to the needlepoint scrutiny of the powers that be. Of course, they knew it was a long shot all the same. The Ministry simply didn’t care about extenuating circumstances, considering those incarcerated to be less than human, doomed to serve their time no matter what new evidence came to light.

Ominis had to throw his weight around a bit. Subtle, hissed threats, muttered warnings and an overuse of his famous glare and family name eventually frightened enough people to get those with the ability to make changes to listen. And then Dracaena came in, her fame and her charm the honey to Ominis’ salt, making promises she never intended to keep, assuring those too nervous to make the jump to support them, doing favours that left an unsavoury taste in the back of her throat.

All of it proved worth it in the end. Sebastian’s release papers were handed over, and Dracaena packed a small bag.

“I’ll be a week,” she said to Ominis. “They want him to stay in a sort of halfway house for a while, to make sure he’s not going to go mental and start hexing everyone in sight. Personally, I’m just glad he’s going to get some time to start readjusting to life outside.” She tilted her head. “Won’t you come with me?”

“Best not,” Ominis said, for the fiftieth time, his patience unending. “I don’t want to overwhelm him, and you’ve always known how to calm him down when he gets too… well.”

She chuckled lightly. “That’s assuming he’s not a complete wreck. I hope it’s not affected him too badly.”

“Dove… he’s going to be very different to what we remember,” Ominis replied, resting a hand on her shoulder as she folded her clothes. “He won’t be the Sebastian we knew.”

“I know,” she raised her hand to his, smiling as he looped his other arm around her belly and held her tight. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder as he brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I hope he’s forgiven us for not doing more sooner.”

“He’ll have forgiven you,” Ominis said. “He always had a soft spot for you. I rather expect, even after all this time, that he’s still in love with you.”

Dracaena kept her silence. She and Ominis had naturally fallen together towards the end of their sixth year of Hogwarts, their shared experiences and pain leading them to comfort one another, she taking Sebastian and Anne’s place as Ominis’ refuge from his family, moving in together once they’d left the school. In a small way, she was surprised it had taken him as long as it had to propose, presenting her with an elegant ring of emerald and diamond set in white gold six months ago. She’d accepted gladly, though a tiny part of her mourned what that meant for Sebastian.

She loved Ominis with all her heart and more. She adored his gentleness, his respect, his kindness and consideration. She admired his steel, the restrained fury with which he dealt with their enemies, both inside and outside of work, his searing wit and boundless intelligence. She relished his talent as a wizard, and fell in love with him over and over again with each morning they woke beside each other, still spent from their passions, safe in each other’s arms.

But she still loved Sebastian.

Ominis tightened his arm around her.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I know how you felt about him. I know how you feel. If things hadn’t ended the way they did, I would have expected the pair of you to be married by now.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Dracaena… he’s my best friend. I want him to stay with us. We have the room, and he’d be safer than if he was just left to try and survive by himself after all he will have been through. I know you and him well enough to know you’re drawn to each other.”

“But I’m yours,” she whispered, moving his hand to brush over her ring. “Remember?”

He shrugged. “I know. I trust you. I know that if you said nothing would happen between you, I would believe you because it would be true. But you’d be unhappy. You both would. I know you’re not going to leave me for him, Dracaena, but I know you also make each other happy. He’s going to need all the love and support he can get once he’s out. I’d hope that you can give that to him.”

She tilted her head. “Ominis… are you giving me permission to… play away with your best friend?”

He chuckled. “Don’t cheapen it,” his elegant fingers found her cheek, tilting her head so he could kiss her full. “I’m telling you that if you two happen to come together again, I support it. Didn’t you once tell me you’d have liked it if you could have had us both?”

“I was drunk!” she protested, giggling as he dug his fingers into her ribs, ticking her gently. “You can’t use that against me!”

“I can and will,” he laughed, holding her tight. “I mean it, Dracaena. I don’t mind at all, so long as it’s only him. He’s my brother as far as I’m concerned, and I trust you both.”

“You might regret it,” Dracaena warned.

“If I do, we’ll talk about it, and find a way to resolve it,” he said, releasing her at last. “Go on now, you need to get to the dock. Send me an owl once he’s settled.”

“I will.”

He brushed a hand over her cheek. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

_.-~*~-._

The sky was a stormy grey, and the waves below were similarly sullen. They crashed against the side of the boat, sending salty sprays onto the deck as if it was their mission to knock the vessel off course.

Dracaena sat between two stern faced Aurors, her hands folded in her lap. She’d left her bag at the halfway house, a modest, three-roomed bungalow surrounded by similar buildings, grey bricked and dour looking. She had perched on one of the rickety chairs by the small, circular dining table as one of the Aurors explained to her that Sebastian would be under careful watch for the first year following his release, and any missteps would see him sent right back to Azkaban.

She’d only half listened as he went over an itemised list for what she should do during her week’s stay at the halfway house, pinning a sheet of parchment to the wall with the details. She was only to feed him small meals, as he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything more. Nothing rich, nothing too fatty, and no alcohol. She’d frowned, asking why.

“Because the prisoners don’t tend to eat,” he’d said, gruffly. “The dementors have to force them in order to keep them alive.”

She’d shivered then, and she shivered now, remembering. They weren’t allowed to leave the halfway house, except for at specific times each day to walk around the complex for ten minutes at a time, to build up his strength. She had to write a detailed report at the end of each day to give to the Aurors, describing their conversations and activities. She was sternly warned that if she didn’t, there would be Trouble. Said Trouble was left unspecified, and she didn’t have the heart to ask.

Dracaena shifted, watching as something huge, angular and black began to rise from the waves, impossibly tall, impossibly wide, made entirely of stone. Only a few small windows lay in the surface, like knife wounds in flesh. Her hands tightened in her lap as dread began to seep under her skin, a visceral fear prickling over her neck and shoulders. She was only going to be there for a short time, to bring her best friend home. She couldn’t imagine how Sebastian would have felt, seeing that pillar of misery approach, believing he would never leave.

She loosed a soft breath, eyeing the distant, tattered black shapes swooping around outside it. He would leave. He would leave with her, and everything would be alright.

The boat approached a yawning cavern at the base of the prison, the Aurors casting a Patronus each, a mouse and a raven. There was a dock in the cavern, the blackness chased away by sparsely placed sconces in the damp, glistening walls. Standing there waiting was a hunched little man, balding on top with buck teeth and a sickly smile. He had a Patronus as well, something that looked like a cross between an ailing puppy and a wall-eyed rat.

Dracaena stepped off the boat, shivering, the feeling of dread still creeping under her clothes and caressing her skin. She set her jaw, drew her wand, and cast a Patronus of her own.

An elegant panther touched its paws to the stone, gazing around imperiously as the Aurors and the little man raised their brows, the dread vanishing from her chest as if it had never been. From the shadows around the walls, several rattling voices gurgled and hissed, as if angry.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“Cell 506,” the little man said, rubbing his hands together with a grin that seemed entirely too cheerful for such a place. “Follow me, my dear.”

The patronuses cast silvery blue light on the walls as they ascended a surprisingly wide staircase, their footsteps echoing. Reaching the first floor, the little man produced a set of keys and unlocked a heavy, barred door.

“No need for magic here,” he cackled. “No one’s got their wands, have they?”

They strode into a cell block, and Dracaena recoiled. The scent of filth was overwhelming, but it was the sounds that chilled her. Her Patronus flickered, moving to stand beside her as desperate sobs filled her ears, tortured cries and garbled, gibbering wails singing in a hellish harmony that echoed off the walls.

The sounds died down as the little man and the Aurors encouraged her on, and though she tried to face forward, to ignore the figures in the cells, she couldn’t help but notice how they scrambled towards the bars, their bony, wasted hands reaching through, stretching for the patronuses as the tattered shadows of the dementors fled their presence. The screams began again as they passed, somehow more agonised than before.

They repeated this four more times, ascending rapidly narrowing staircases and emerging into a new cell block, climbing higher and higher, taunting the prisoners with the promise of relief from their misery in their passing. With each step, Dracaena’s heart beat just a little faster, her grip on her wand increasing, the hackles on her panther Patronus rising as she bared her teeth.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, her palms were sweating. How different would he be? Would the Sebastian she knew and loved still be there, somewhere? Would his eyes still sparkle with the mischief he was so adept at making, at once sliding into fury when he was challenged, and softening whenever he looked at her? She knew he’d be different. He’d look different. He’d act different. But she had to believe he was still there.

No matter her provisions, in the following years, Dracaena didn’t think there was anything on earth that could have prepared her for what she saw when she finally reached Sebastian’s cell.

Unlike so many of the other prisoners, he wasn’t screaming or crying, and he didn’t rush to the bars to feel the passing warmth of the patronuses. He huddled by the wall, next to a narrow mattress and ratty blanket laid directly on the floor. His hair was halfway down to his elbows, thick and matted, almost black with grime. He was dressed as they all were, in a filthy pair of striped trousers and shirt, and they hung loose on his frame. His head was on his arms, resting on his knees, drawn to his chest. The hand she could see was almost skeletal, every inch of boyish puppy fat stripped from his body. His nails were bitten to the quick and filthy, as were his bare feet.

Dracaena raised a hand to the bars, her heart shattering as she took him in, watching as he shivered.

“See, he’s one of the tough ones,” the little man said, with a chuckle. “Just keeps to himself, terribly well behaved. Shame to see him go, really.”

Dracaena tightened her grip on her wand to the point she thought it might snap. She turned to the little man, letting her expression say everything she dared not voice, for if she opened her mouth, she would likely find herself in a cell of her own. The little man seemed to understand, because his sick grin slipped, and he hurried to unlock the cell door. She barged him out the way before he’d even pulled the key from the lock, striding inside and falling to her knees before the broken man she had loved.

“Sebastian?” she whispered, her Patronus sitting in front of the door and glowering. He didn’t move. “Sebastian, it’s time to go.”

He stirred, his fingers tightening on his sleeve. She reached out, brushing a hand over his arm, and he flinched.

“Bassy,” she whispered, the pet name she’d given him both foreign and familiar on her tongue. He tensed, finally raising his head. His chocolate eyes, once so full of life, were dull and defeated above hollow cheeks and a beard that reached his collar. Even so he was familiar to her, the rampant freckles scattering his skin like constellations a siren call to their bond. He blinked, focusing, and didn’t say a word.

“Bassy, it’s time to go,” she said again, cupping his cheek, sliding her thumb over the protruding bone, her fingers winding into the thatch of hair at the back of his neck. He flinched away again, his expression becoming fearful, his eyes darting around the cell.

“Happens sometimes,” the little man said sullenly from beyond the bars. “They forget who they are. Forget who they knew. He’s not said a word in five years, so don’t expect him to. He probably thinks this is some kind of joke.”

She shot another glare that could melt steel through the bars, then shifted her position, grasping Sebastian by the arms and standing, heaving him to his feet.

He came up with almost no resistance, and she staggered, almost flinging him into the air, horrified by how light he was. He made a small sound of muted alarm as he left the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, relaxing her grip. She grabbed for him again when he slumped, his legs refusing to support his weight. She glanced through the bars again as the Aurors stirred.

“We’ll have to drag him,” one said. “Prisoners sometimes forget how to walk, or they just don’t have the will.”

“You’re not dragging anybody,” she spat. She looped an arm around Sebastian’s back, bending to catch his legs, lifting him in her arms like a child. He tensed, then slumped, his head lolling against her shoulder. He was so light, so alarmingly fragile, as if he was made of parchment, ready to tear apart at the slightest movement. Her heart broke again, and her Patronus flickered as she cradled him. Without another word, she marched from the cell, heading for the doors, the other prisoners gibbering as she passed, begging her to take them too, to leave her Patronus, to kill them. She paid them no mind, focusing on holding Sebastian tight to her chest, his feet swinging, his breath rushing over her neck. His hands were folded on his stomach, and one of them slid to her, pinching the fabric of her cloak, then holding gently.

She held him all the way to the dock, refusing to release her grip as she settled back on the boat. She raised a hand to his hair, gently running over the back of his head. It left streaks of grime on her fingers, but she didn’t care. A deep, boiling anger simmered in her chest. Anger for what he’d been put through. Anger that anyone was forced to endure such a hellish place. But mostly, she was furious with herself for allowing this to happen, furious with Ominis for knowing what Azkaban was like, and letting him be taken anyway, the word of some unknown person sealing his fate.

It didn’t matter that they’d spent the next six years trying to find a way to free him. The damage had been done. She felt it in his trembling breath, in the way he held onto her cloak so gently, knowing in her bones that it was the tightest grip he could muster. She wrapped her arms around him more securely, resting her cheek against his forehead, whispering soft words of comfort as her collar grew sodden with his silent tears.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena carried Sebastian over the threshold of the halfway house in much the same way a groom carries his bride. She wasn’t blind to the imagery, and wondered if Ominis would do the same to her once they were married. Would he be able to navigate if his hands were full of her body and not his wand? Probably. He was astonishingly capable, to the point she often wondered if his blindness really was total, like he said. Perhaps he had some Seer blood in him that aided him. It would certainly go a long way to explain how he always seemed to know everything, even things he shouldn’t know.

She kicked the door shut in the faces of the Aurors that had accompanied them.

She eyed the living room of the halfway house, the low sofa facing the kitchenette and dining table. Through one of the doors was a little bedroom, and through the other was a tiny, cramped bathroom. It was towards this that she headed, conjuring a low seat, in which she deposited Sebastian. He was unresponsive as she stood back with a light sigh, gazing down at him and eyeing the stains left on her robes.

She pulled off her cloak and overrobes, standing before him in a simple pair of trousers and vest top, tossing her robes through the still open door, before kneeling down in front of him.

“First order of business,” she said, softly. “We’re here for a week, Bassy. We’ve got a to-do list, but I’ll take care of it as best I can. I’ll need your help, though. Can you do that for me?”

His throat worked a moment, then he gave a tiny, barely perceptible nod. Dracaena loosed a soft breath. At least he was listening to her.

“I think you’d feel a lot better after a shower,” she said, keeping her tone low and soothing. “Would you like that?”

Another miniscule nod.

“Can you take care of that, or would you like some help?”

No response to that. She tilted her head, waiting, her hands on his knees, until he glanced at her, his eyes lighting on hers and flicking away again like a moth fluttering about a lantern. They were still dull and hollow, curtained by the matted strands of his hair. She reached up and brushed a hand over it.

“I think we need to give you a haircut,” she said. “I can’t think of a single brush that can save it, I’m afraid, it's too tangled. Can I cut your hair for you? And maybe this?” she ran her hand over the wild beard. “Much as I think a beard suits you, it could do with a trim, don’t you think?”

A tiny nod, ever so slightly more vigorous than the last. She smiled, and reached behind her, fumbling in the cabinet for scissors.

“I’ll save what I can,” she said, taking a ropey strand of his hair between her fingers. “I can’t imagine you’d enjoy being bald.”

A miniscule exhalation. She tilted her head.

“Was that a laugh, darling?”

He didn’t answer, but leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. She set the scissors aside a moment and wrapped her arms around his back, alarmed to feel the bones of his spine poking through his skin. She held him gently until his arms rose, gripping the back of her top with a featherlight touch. He shivered, his breath trembling on the exhale. She held him tighter, pressing her cheek to his.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, circling her hand over his back. “You’re safe, Bassy. You’re out. You’re not going back there, okay? Once we’ve done what we have to here, you’re going to come and live with me and Ominis. We’ll look after you.”

She felt his jaw clench a moment, then he sat back, meeting her eyes properly for the first time. He held her gaze a long moment, before it dropped to her hands, resting on his knees again. He touched her ring, his skeletal fingers brushing over the emeralds and diamonds. He sighed, seemingly caving in on himself.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the rasp of his throat.

She could have cried, then. God only knew what he’d been thinking when he was trapped in that cell. Had he been hoping she’d come for him? That she’d have waited for him? Had he tortured himself with thoughts of other people getting close to her, loving her? Had he known on some level that she and Ominis would end up together, engaged, and soon to be married? Had he loved her as she loved him once, and wished it was he that slid the ring onto her finger?

What would he think if she told him of Ominis’ offer?

“Thank you,” she said. Best not to overload him. She should have taken her ring off, but it was too late for that now. She raised a hand to his hair again. “I… I’ll be honest, I’ve never done this before. It won’t be a brilliant job, but it’ll help.”

He gave another miniscule nod, and closed his eyes. She gazed at him a while longer, then picked up the scissors, sliding them through the matted tangle of his hair before closing them with a decisive snick.

_.-~*~-._

Shorn of his beard and most of his hair, Sebastian was beginning to look a little more like himself, though his face was terribly gaunt, his cheeks hollow, the sharp lines of his jaw standing out above his brittle neck. Dracaena vanished the pile of hair with a flick of her wand, then reached over to the bathtub, turning on the shower and holding her hand in the stream until it warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“Shall I leave you to it?” she asked. “I can give you some privacy.”

He didn’t answer, his hollow gaze turned inward, slumping slightly in his chair. She took his chin and tilted his face to hers, waiting until his eyes focused. “Bassy, do you want me to help?”

He blinked, slowly, his gaze turning distant again. With a light sigh, Dracaena lowered her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, slowly prying them open, one by one. At each, she paused, looking at him until he gave a tiny nod. She withheld a wince with some difficulty as she gently pulled it from his shoulders, able to see each rib through his skin, streaked with grime. Her heart broke a third time.

“Can you stand?” she asked, gently. “We should get these off too.” She touched the leg of his trousers. He didn’t answer, so she tucked her hands under his arms and rose, bringing him with her. He leaned against her, his arms rising to clutch at her back again as she nimbly undid the drawstring. The clothing crumpled straight to the floor, far too large for his frame. She averted her eyes, helping him step under the stream of warm water, lowering him to sit, and he drew his knees to his chest.

How many times in her fifth year had she wondered what he’d look like under his robes? Countless times, lying awake at night, or daydreaming in class. Now he was here it felt somehow wrong, like a violation to take the opportunity to drink in his form when he was so vulnerable. So she didn’t look, focusing on his face as his short hair plastered to his scalp, the water turning black as it streamed over his skin. She pressed a washcloth into his hands, and he held it, but made no further move.

“Come on darling,” she murmured. “Help me out a little bit?”

No response. With a soft smile, she picked up another washcloth and slid it over his back, applying light pressure to the more stubborn patches of dirt. Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his head on his crossed arms as she soaped his back, his grip on his own cloth tightening a little. And even though she resisted, scolding herself silently, Dracaena couldn’t help but look at him properly. Under the steadily vanishing grime, his back and shoulders were as freckled as his face, fading the further her eyes travelled down his spine and arms. He was a lot paler than she remembered, but then he’d gone from an outdoorsy, adventurous nerd to a prisoner in a cell, not a speck of natural light to be found. She’d have to make sure there was a decent spot in the garden for him to relax, once they were all home.

She nibbled her lip, glancing at his slender thighs, once thick. No freckles there. A few on his calves, none on his feet. She wrenched her gaze away before it strayed any further, and she slipped a hand under his chin, tilting his head back so she could get to his hair. He closed his eyes with a tiny sigh as she rubbed suds through the thick strands, massaging his scalp gently until she was sure every speck of dirt was gone. She pressed a hand to his collarbone.

“Sit up straight, darling,” she whispered. “I need to get to your chest.”

He acquiesced, leaning back until he overbalanced. Dracaena caught him with a startled yelp, an arm around his back, spluttering a little as her head and shoulders entered the shower stream. His legs stretched out as he slumped against her arm, his head turning to her shoulder, his eyes still closed. She caught her breath, blinking water out of her eyes.

“You alright?”

A tiny nod.

She took a breath, and keeping her gaze firmly fixed above his waistline, she moved the cloth over his torso, trying not to admire the fine hair dusting his chest, focusing on removing every speck of dirt she could see. She took her time, because at some point, she was going to have to try to convince him, again, to help himself. There was only so far she could reasonably go when he was so out of it, despite what Ominis had said.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, or to touch… to taste. It wasn’t that she had any problems in taking care of Sebastian in whatever way he needed. It was that he was fresh out of Azkaban, barely four hours free, still confused and addled and traumatised and broken, and she couldn’t assume that he would want anything to do with her at all.

It was still difficult. She shifted, her arm around his back, propping him up as she gripped his shoulder, his head resting against hers, flipping her sodden hair out of her face, her top already soaked. She circled the cloth over his chest a final time, sliding it over his nipple, and he groaned.

The sound was so soft that she thought for a moment she’d imagined it. She paused, swallowed, and repeated the movement. He sighed, tucking his head more firmly against her shoulder, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a stirring.

Dracaena closed her eyes, willing herself to cool the heat rising from under her collar. She was his friend, that was all, helping him after a terrible ordeal. She couldn’t possibly take advantage of him, not now, not when he was vulnerable and needed her to help him. He wasn’t in his right mind. She had to be strong for them both. In time, perhaps she could, but…

She steeled herself and returned to the job at hand, sliding a bar of soap over his stomach and following it with the cloth. The water ran clear over his body, though it still pooled brown and grimy by his feet and legs, and-

She wrenched her eyes back up, glaring at the pale tiles of the bathroom wall.

“You going to give me a hand?” she asked. “I’m getting soaked.”

Again, no response. He slumped against her, his breathing perhaps a little quicker than before. Hardening herself, Dracaena took the washcloth to his thighs, scrubbing perhaps a little firmer than she had before, tucking a hand under his knee to bring his leg closer so she could still support him. Her back was beginning to ache, bent over the bath as she was, but she ignored the dull fire spreading under her shoulder blades, focusing on her task. All the same, she couldn’t help but notice how he shifted, widening his legs with another soft sigh, his hand sliding over her back to grip at her shoulder as she worked. She slid the cloth over the inside of his thigh, and a soft, almost strangled whimper passed his lips as he tilted towards her.

Dracaena had endured many trials in her life. Stopping a goblin rebellion, defeating a power-crazed, dragon-transformed lunatic set on killing her, as well as countless attacks from poachers and Ashwinders, defeating a powerful Dark Wizard in single combat and more. So much more. Still, if anyone had asked her in the later years what she found the most difficult trial of all, she would have said in a heartbeat that ignoring Sebastian’s throbbing erection as she washed him was among the top three.

She did steal a glance or five. She was only human, after all. And by God, he was beautiful. Not quite as long as Ominis, but thicker, a darker shade, the lush pink of Ominis’ love more a light burgundy with Sebastian, and the way he rested against his stomach, his toes curling as the shower stream rushed over him was more intoxicating than heroin. There was nothing more that she wanted than to wrap her hand around his length and draw him to the edge of bliss, to let him revel in the delights so long denied him, to hear him moan and whimper her name…

Again, Ominis’ assurances that he was not only fine with her playing away with Sebastian, but that he expected it ran through her mind. She loosed a soft breath as she moved the washcloth to his hips, his grip increasing on her arm as his breathing rushed past her ear. She set her jaw.

She couldn’t.

“I need to get some things ready,” she said, firmly. “Finish up, Bassy, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She waited until his grip on her arm loosened, helping him sit upright. It pained her to leave him alone, huddled and defenceless as she strode for the door, wringing water from her hair and drying it with a wave of her wand. But she had to. God and Merlin only knew what she would have done otherwise. He was too fresh, too vulnerable. How could she take advantage of him like that? How could she even think it?

Biting her lip, she settled at the small table and drew parchment and quill towards her, penning a short note.

My darling Ominis,

Sebastian is with me in the halfway house, and all things considered, he’s as well as he can be. I don’t want to alarm you, but he’s lost a lot of weight and isn’t very responsive, and I expect it will take some time before he’s better. You were right, he’s not as we remember, but I feel the old Sebastian is still there, somewhere.

I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait to be home with you.

Dracaena.

She wanted to add another line, clarifying that Ominis had meant what he said, hoping he would change his mind, for if he demanded she remain solely his it would be easier to deny the stirrings she felt for Sebastian. But he wouldn’t deny her, he wouldn’t refuse. He’d almost been insistent.

She sealed the letter instead, opening the door and beckoning the owl perched nearby. It took the note in its beak and flew off, soon lost amongst the clouds. She took a breath, noting the dark figures leaning against the walls of the surrounding buildings, the curtains twitching in windows. She made a face and retreated back inside. Christ, with the number of Aurors surrounding them, it was almost like Sebastian was a mass-murdering lunatic, not a broken man who had paid a price far dearer than the death of his horrible uncle warranted.

She tilted her head as the sounds of running water from the bathroom shut off. She waited as a shadow moved beyond the open door. It seemed that Sebastian could get about by himself if he needed to. That was good. She moved to the kitchenette, opening the cupboards and grimacing. Simple foods like porridge oats, rounds of dark bread and rice nestled beside tins of nondescript meat and vegetables huddled on the shelves. Dull fare for certain, and she wished she could use her Ancient Magic to conjure something more palatable, but it didn’t work that way. Sebastian had always been fond of sweet things, and there wasn’t a gram of sugar to be found.

She pulled a few items down and set about making a simple meal of white fish and rice with a side of green beans, careful not to make too much. He’d need time to adjust to eating real food again, and she had no idea what he’d been forced to eat behind bars.

Dracaena turned at a slight noise to find Sebastian standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning heavily against the frame, a towel around his waist. He gave her the beginnings of a tired, shy smile, only the corners of his mouth twitching. She left the saucepan and rushed to him.

“There’s clothes in the bedroom,” she said, leading him, an arm around his waist as he slumped against her. “We’ll have some dinner and get you settled for the night, yeah?”

He nodded, a firmer, more decisive action than before. Depositing him on the bed, which creaked, she ferreted around in the old wardrobe, bringing out a selection of shirts and trousers.

“Any preference, or are you not fussy?”

He blinked slowly, his eyes on her, seemingly indifferent about the clothes in her hands. With a shrug, she picked out a dark shirt and pair of trousers, leaving them on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, darling, if you need-”

His hand found hers, and she paused, turning to him, finding the corners of his eyes glimmering.

His lips parted, his throat working a moment before his voice found its way out, hushed and rasping.

“This… is real? You’re… really here?”

She knelt before him, taking both his hands in hers.

“Of course it’s real,” she whispered. “Bassy… Ominis and I have spent the last six years trying to find a way to free you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, you didn’t deserve Azkaban. You’re coming home with us, and you’ll never go back, alright?”

He nodded again, a tiny smile touching his lips.

“You… got me out?”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said. “We had to bully a lot of people, rewrite some laws, and build a case. It took ages, Bassy, but we never gave up. We just wanted you home with us.”

“And…” he drew a breath, as if the act of speaking fatigued him beyond all reason. “Anne?”

Dracaena hesitated. She knew this would come up, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. The reason for his fighting, the reason for his research, the reason for his mistake. How could she tell him that the curse that plagued his sister had taken her life three years ago?

It would break him. Destroy him in ways that Azkaban never could.

“Time enough for that later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “What’s important right now is getting you back on your feet, alright?”

It was a poor answer, and she knew it. Sebastian had never been one to let things lie, least of all something as important as his twin, whom she had buried with Ominis on a beautiful hill overlooking Feldcroft on a blossom-strewn spring morning, the pair of them shedding silent tears not just for the senseless loss of life, but because it meant everything Sebastian had sacrificed had been for nothing. But Sebastian didn’t question her further, merely nodding again and releasing her hands, reaching for the clothes.

Dracaena returned to the kitchen in time to put out a small fire that had started in the pan. She swore and pulled out another tin of white fish, vanishing the blackened mess with a wave of her wand.

Sebastian joined her at the small table not long after, clinging to the walls and countertops to support himself until she hurried over, pulling his arm over her shoulders. Though his first mouthful of food was hesitant, he soon fell upon it like a man starved, going so far as to toss his fork aside and eat with his hands. Once he was done, he held himself still, staring at his plate before the hollowness returned to his eyes, and he withdrew into himself, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring at nothing as Dracaena pushed her plate aside, her appetite quite gone.

“You should sleep,” she said, softly. She rose and took his hand, drawing him to his feet and tucking an arm around his waist, leading him to the bedroom. She sat him down, helping him unbutton his shirt, pausing as she reached the hilt of his trousers.

“There’s… there’s pyjamas and things in the wardrobe,” she said. “I can get them for you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer, his eyes dragging with tiredness, but his hand snared hers as she rose.

“Stay?” he rasped. “Please?”

It took every ounce of her self-control to refuse.

“You’ll be alright,” she said. “You’re safe here, Bassy.”

His throat worked a moment, and he nodded, his hand sliding from her grip. Dracaena returned to the living room, setting the dinner things to wash and settling down on the sofa, conjuring a blanket and removing her clothes, lying down in just her underthings.

Ominis was on her mind as she settled to sleep, wishing he was here with her. She longed to feel his elegant arms around her, to reassure her, to comfort her as she wept silently for all the pain their dearest friend had endured.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena work to darkness and agonised, desperate screams.

She bolted from the sofa, her heart in her throat as she tore towards the sound, her mind conjuring horrors beyond mortal imagining as she burst into the bedroom. Sebastian was huddled in a corner, his arms splayed against the walls, his knees drawn to his chest, his eyes wild as he tried to press himself through the brick and plaster, cowering away from something she couldn’t see.

“Sebastian!” she dashed over, grabbing for his shoulders, and he lashed out, howling, the side of his hand connecting with her temple, and she saw stars. Shaking herself, she grabbed for him again as he fought against her, yelling wordlessly. “Sebastian, it’s me! It’s alright! Calm down, please!”

He pushed back against the wall, soft, keening sounds wrenching from his throat, his eyes unseeing as she wrapped her arms around him, gasping comforting words into his ear. Eventually, his arms rose to encircle her, burying his face in her shoulder and weeping helplessly.

“It’s alright…” she murmured. “It’s alright, darling. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. You’re safe.”

Sebastian just cried, clinging to her as she settled on his thighs, wishing she could hold him tighter, wishing she had more arms to wrap around him, to hold him more securely than she could, her hand circling over his back, the other wound into his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“It was just a nightmare, darling,” she murmured. “That’s all. Nothing more. You’re alright.”

It took a long time before Sebastian was able to calm down, his frightened sobs becoming whimpers, quietening to harsh breaths as he grasped at her back, shivering so hard she thought he could power a small house.

“What was it?” Dracaena asked, leaning back a little and cupping his face. “Darling, what did you see?”

He shook his head, his face tear-stained, pulling her back to him and resting his head against her shoulder again.

“I-I’m… sorry,” he managed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him. “Bassy, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through, but I’m here to help you. Tell me what you need.”

“Stay… with me,” he whimpered, holding her as tight as he could, though the strength of his arms was little more than strands of silk. “Please, Drac… Don’t leave me alone.”

With a muted nod, she tucked her hands under his arms again, levering him upright and guiding him to the bed, laying him down and tucking him in, before settling atop the covers. Sebastian turned over, his arm looping over her side.

“Will… you be… warm enough?” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Get some rest, love, I’ll be right here.”

“Come under,” he insisted, snuggling closer to her. “Please, Drac. I… I haven’t touched… another person in… years. I… I-I need to be close… to you.”

She hesitated, and Sebastian huddled up to her, his hands tight at her back, his skin fire against hers.

“Drac… I-I’m sorry, I-I know you’re… with Ominis, I don’t want… to upset you… or spoil that. I-I just need… to be close to you… please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Setting her jaw, Dracaena slid under the covers, wrapping her arms around him as he snuggled into her, his head against her collarbone, his body pressed to hers, almost as though he needed to become a part of her, to meld his flesh with hers, the pads of his fingers digging into her back.

She held him tight as he shivered, wishing she could take the pain he suffered and draw it into herself to shield him from the horrors he had endured. But she couldn’t. She could only lie there, holding him, stroking his hair as he pressed his face between her breasts, his skeletal frame wracked with shudders as guilt seared through every fibre of her being. She pulled him closer, and he groaned softly.

Dracaena couldn’t ignore the hardness that pressed against her, as much as she wanted to. Despite Ominis’ assurances, she needed to be strong, to show him she cared for Sebastian as more than just a vessel for carnal pleasure. She didn’t need that. As she was with Ominis, her own bliss mattered less than that of her partner, her delight being in when she brought him to the edge of paradise and sent him over, soaring on clouds of ecstasy. Would it be so wrong to gift the same to Sebastian, when her fiancée had condoned it?

Sebastian groaned softly, the tip of his erection nudging against the soft flesh of her abdomen, straining against his pyjamas. He nuzzled against her breasts, only the thin lace separating their skin. Dracaena drew a soft breath. No matter her concerns, perhaps this was what he needed. Had she not vowed to care for him, no matter what he needed? Her hand slid over his side, over the ridges of his ribs, gliding over the hollow between them and his hip, coming to rest on the sharp protrusion of bone. Sebastian whimpered softly, tilting his body towards her hand.

“Are you sure?” she breathed. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes…” he whispered, the word ragged, forged from a throat too unused to speaking. “Please…”

Still she hesitated, preferring to caress his body, worried that it would be too much for him, worried that no matter his assurances, Ominis would be hurt if she allowed herself to indulge, but Sebastian clung to her, the little strength he had poured into pulling her closer.

“Drac…” he whined softly, writhing against her as her hand sculpted over his chest and stomach. “Please, Drac… please, make me feel human again. Please, please touch me… please… I’ll do anything… I just… I need to feel alive again.”

And hell, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to make him feel good after everything he’d been through. She cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers, pressing her lips to his with a softness akin to featherdown and satin. But he responded with fire and fury, his hand clamping against the back of her head, pressing her close as his lips worked magic over hers, scattering the last of her restraint as she wrenched him to her.

His breath came in sharp gasps as she pushed his clothing aside, her hand dipping down to caress the length of him. He tensed, a low moan rising from his throat as she graced her hand along him, before his grip at her back tightened, and he flexed his hips, thrusting into her palm, each movement accompanied by a gasp.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Make me feel good, make me feel right… make me feel real, Drac, please.”

Dracaena sealed her lips to his, drawing his breath into her and sending it back as heaven and light, her hand gliding along his throbbing length, her movements careful and controlled. Sebastian loosed a long, deep moan that seemed to rise from the bottom of his lungs, as if such a sound had been too long caged and finally set free. He sank back to the pillows, his limited strength seemingly spent, his eyes rolling back as his lashes fluttered, and she favoured him with kisses that peppered his face and chased over his neck, pausing only at his chest to swipe her tongue over his nipple. Sebastian groaned, his head rolling from side to side, one hand at her shoulder, the slight pressure increasing as she kissed down his taut stomach.

She could take him any way she wanted. She could pin him down and ravage him until he forgot his own name, she could bend him backward and bury his delicious cock in her throat, she could even turn him over and work a magic inside him that she was certain too few wizards had ever had the fortune to experience. But Dracaena bore down on her desires. Too much could break him. There would be months, years, perhaps, in which she could show him all the wonders she had learned since being with Ominis. She could show Ominis what she learned from Sebastian. She could learn from them both, together, but only if she treated them right.

Sebastian moaned like a starved whore when she flicked her tongue over the flushed head of his cock, his head pressing back into the pillows, his free hand grasping a fistful of the sheets as she slowly kissed along his length. She tucked a hand under his hips as she nuzzled the inside of his thighs, taking a moment to savour the desperate sounds pushed up from the depths of his being, the hand at her shoulder moving to the back of her head, his grip weak but insistent.

She couldn’t deny him any longer. Dracaena flattened her tongue against him and drew it slowly to the tip, already weeping with slick, crystal fluid, his ribs expanding and contracting with each rapid, short breath, his stomach hollowing as his hips bucked towards her. Her free hand found his, and she laced their fingers together as she took him into her mouth at last.

Seven years of longing couldn’t have prepared her for the feel of him against her lips, sliding over her tongue, invading her throat, the deliciousness of his fevered skin, the subtle, peppered tang of his love so similar and yet so different to the gentle salt and sugar of her Ominis. Sebastian’s back arched, his legs falling apart, his hand winding into her hair as his grip on her hand trembled, his thighs beginning to quiver as she flicked her tongue over the underside of his head, so sensitive after so many years of neglect, his voice a wordless song of ecstasy. She sealed her lips and drew them along his shaft, rewarded by a series of frantic moans that rose in fever and pitch. She wanted to pull back, to slow down, to make him wait, the dominant side of her fighting for control, but even she was not that cruel. Instead she bobbed her head faster and faster, lashing her tongue against him until he all but screamed, his hips rising from the bed as his back arched in a curve Fibonacci would be envious of, the beautiful, creamy thickness of his passion coating the cavern of her mouth.

Dracaena drained him of every drop as if her life depended on it, relishing the way he quivered and whined, his body tensing and relaxing with each new flick of her tongue until she raised her head at last, his pale, freckled skin flushed a gorgeous rose, an arm draped across his forehead. She slid up his body to lie beside him, brushing his hair back and wrapping her arms around him as he curled into her, panting.

“You okay?” she breathed, and he huffed a breathless laugh.

“If… if I’d have known… if I had to go… to Azkaban for that…” he nuzzled into her. “I’d have… gone… long ago.”

Dracaena chuckled softly, winding her hand through his hair as he relaxed against her.

“Drac,” he murmured. “I… should have… told you. Back then… I should have said…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “You need to sleep, love.”

“I know,” he replied, already drifting. “But… I should have said… I love you, Drac. I… I always have.”

She held him close.

“I love you too,” she breathed as he slipped into sleep. “Forever and always, I love you.”

Masterlist

Part 2

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian smut #sebastian sallow smut #post azkaban sebastian #subastian

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Goodbye, Tommy Shelby.

A/n: Hey guys, this is my first fic after finishing my previous series, if you haven’t read it then please do and leave a like or any opinions. It’s all appreciated!. Also, I recommend listening to ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine whilst reading since i listen to it whilst writing this x.

I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED ONTO A DIFFERENT SITE OR TO BE TRANSLATED.

Summary: Amelia has been in love with Tommy since she was 17.Today’s tommy's wedding day and Amelia can’t cope.

Word count: 1,575

Ada always told Amelia that there were “plenty of other fish in the sea” and she could do better than her brother, Tommy Shelby but Amelia had her doubts. The idea that there is someone else out there for her was ridiculous. If there were then why had she wasted twelve years of her life loving Tommy Shelby.

It’s to late now, Tommy was getting married and Amelia still felt like the seventeen year old in her room giggling about how Tommy smiled at her. The lead up to the wedding was the worst, every time someone spoke about how beautiful the wedding will be or how Tommy and Grace look more in love as the days pass would cause her heart to feel like, at any minute, it would crawl up her throat and jump onto the floor to be crushed by the passing carriages in the streets or even by the drunken’s getting thrown out of the garrison after closing time.

She knew she was being stupid, she was 29 and still pining over a man who clearly didn’t feel the same emotions she felt for him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop loving him. The day before the wedding, Amelia decided she couldn't stay in Birmingham any longer. she would leave after the wedding, maybe go to London or even go to new York, she didn't care where, just a place that Tommy Shelby isn't.

Tommy's wedding day.

Amelia hadn't slept the night before, every-time she would try to sleep and close her eyes, all she could see if Tommy's' face, which in turn caused her to silently sob knowing she had lost the man she loved so dearly. She decided to write a letter to Tommy, to give him after the wedding. Confessing her love.

Four hours.

Four hours until Tommy gets married. Amelia was sat at her small kitchen table, holding her freshly brewed tea whilst Ada walks around talking about something that Amelia wasn't listening too. Amelia stared into the dark gloomy depths of her drink, slowly sinking into her sadness as the minutes pass. Ada had placed a plate full of bacon, eggs and sausage, stating that it would be a long day but Amelia couldn't get herself to eat anything, if she does she knew she would bring it back up anyway.

Ada stops her frantic movements when she realises that Amelia hadn't eaten or moved since she sat down “ it will be alright Mia” she whispers reassuringly. Using her nickname given to her by the Shelby family.

Amelia looks towards Ada, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly “ yeah, hopefully” the brokenhearted woman murmured.

Two hours.

Two hours until Amelia leaves, everyone had arrived at Tommy's' house threes hours before the wedding, needing to help set up the rest of the decorations before the wedding had to start. Amelia had been at the house for nearly an hour and she hadn't said a word. Every-time Tommy goes to talk to her, she quickly leaves, pretending that she was going for a smoke break or going to find the toilet. She knew that if she spoke a word to Tommy, she would break down right there, in front of him and in front of the guests that were arriving.

Amelia was stood by the fountain outside of tommys house, holding a cigarette between her lips as she watched the water flowing into the small concrete pond that surrounds it. Amelia was wearing one of her nicest dresses, she had it kept in the back of her wardrobe for special occasions. The gorgeous deep blue garment was embroidered with sliver sequins, though the dress was formal, there was a merriment in its nature and beautiful folds, making it easy for one to run but also to waltz. Amelia knew it was the perfect dress to wear for when she runs off before anyone sees. She didn't want the dress to stop her.

Amelia was in a trance like state, staring at the water. She failed to notice Polly walking over to her. She knew Polly wasn't stupid, Amelia knew Polly knows about her feelings for Tommy. Amelia jumps slightly when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“ you'll catch a fever if you stay out here” the older woman warns.

“ i prefer to be here then in there” Amelia admits, taking a puff of her cigarette then slowly blows out the smoke “ its very overwhelming with everyone rushing around” she quickly covers herself.

Polly lights her own cigarette and raises an eyebrow at Amelia “ if it was my choice, i would want Tommy to marry you instead of grace” she confessed.

Amelia sighs, her eyes glossing as the tears in her soul become tears in her eyes “ it wasn't meant to be pol” she whispers, her voice quivering. She takes a deep breath as she glances at Polly, the waterline of her eyes threatening to spill out, she knew she had to tell Polly she was leaving, since Polly had treated her like a daughter since the day Ada brought her over for tea for the first time.

“ whats on your mind?” the older woman quizzed, holding her cigarette between her fingers, her dark eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Amelia chuckles and shakes her head, around Polly you can't keep a secret because she'll know automatically “ i'm leaving pol, after the wedding”

it's time

Its time for Amelia to watch as her life collapses, its time she had to sit in the crowd and pretend her heart wasn't shattering into a million pieces as if her heart was made of glass. She was sat in the second to front row with Polly, Ada, Ada's son and Michael.

The wedding had started half an hour ago and for that thirty minutes her tears came freely, like an overflowed storm drain. Luckily, the people around here wouldn't think differently then her being happy for the couple. However, Polly and Ada knew differently.

As the priest announces the newly wed husband and wife, the Shelby brothers and graces family surround the couple. Amelia knew this was the time she had to leave, she looks around to make sure no one was watching, once she knew it was safe she turns around and walks towards the double doors leading to the corridor. She turns her head and glumly smiles, seeing the smile on Tommy's face. She was happy for him, he deserved to be happy.

As Amelia walks outside, the air hits her face, the tip of her nose immediately turning red. Amelia wraps her arms around herself as she begins to rush towards the carriage that was awaiting her with her bags. Her fingers ached in the bitter winter wind, as she clenched and unclenched them trying to keeping an feelings in the tips. As she climbs into the carriage, she looks out through the window noticing Ada and Polly outside watching her, she waves slowly as the carriage leaves.

Once the carriage disappeared, Polly stomps out her cigarette then turns around, walking back into the house, on a mission to find Tommy. Once, Polly found him, she wraps her hand around his wrist “ Thomas come with me” she whispers, taking him to his office.

Tommy's office.

Polly closes the door as Tommy walks over to his desk whilst putting a cigarette between his lips “ what is it pol, ey?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Polly walks over to his desk, picking up the envelope from the oak desk “ Amelia has left, this is for you” Polly explains, walking back over to the door “ you are stupid Thomas, if you didn't see it” Polly utters, leaving Tommy's office quietly, leaving Tommy alone.

Tommy sits down at his desk, immediately opening the letter, leaning back in his seat as he begins to read the handwritten letter.

Dear Tommy,

As i sit here, the night before you get married to someone who is not me, My heart is breaking because i love you Tommy. I love you with every fibre, every cell, every pore of my whole body. I love you, every good part and every bad part of you. It's been such an amazing journey since we first met, but our journey has come to an end. I hope you and grace get the life you are hoping for. How can i put into words something I've never experienced before until recently. i'm dead Tommy, yet very much still alive. You have allowed me to see the power of love, from point A to point Z. I want you to be happy Tommy, have someone experiencing that smile you keep locked away. I don't regret anything that I've felt for you. However, There is one thing i wish you could have seen, it's the things i did for love. For you. Letting you go is forever the hardest thing i'll do in my life but i want you to know you are the most amazing person, the only person i'll truly love with my whole heart.

I know you don't love me, i'm sorry i fell in love with you. i'm sorry i had to leave on the happiest day of your life. You deserve more. i'll hold these last twelve years so damn tight in my heart. I just hope you will too.

Goodbye, Thomas Shelby.

A/N: Well that was an emotional journey wasn't it? i hope you enjoyed this fic. Leave a like, comment , re-blog. Its all appreciated so much xx

#peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinders fandom #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fic

[kichikichiko]

Ok, so I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable with this request. If I do, just tell me!

Ok, and you do a SFW/Fluff of Wally Darling x Y/N who is pregnant (I don’t even think it’s possible that puppets can be pregnant but I guess roll with it 😅)

So, can you do headcannons on marriage + pregnancy (If you’re comfortable with writing that. I don’t know why I just think sense he’s in a kids tv show and is overall calm, I think he would be amazing with kids) gender of children/kids if there will be multiple are up to you, doesn’t really matter.

Also I think you would be cute if we got a small reaction from the neighbors of the marriage and or pregnancy! Like how would the whole neighborhood react to this?

Our little family

An: HI EVERYONE IM BACKKKK

I saw this cute request and literally could not resist I HAD TO!

I love reading n writing pregnancy related fics its so fun n fluffy UGH

Hope you like this liz! I totally agree with you. Wally would be good with kids no doubt

Synopsis: HC of Wally with a pregnant puppet reader!

Pairing: Wally Darling x AFAB reader

Cw: fluff, pregnancy, established relationship, reader is called mother @ the end, wally is probs OOC, defies all puppet logic known to mankind

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You and Wally Darling have always been Welcome Home's "it" couple, so imagine the happiness everyone felt when the two of you got married, and imagine the shock everyone felt when you got pregnant!

When you found out you're pregnant you couldn't contain your happiness

You had to tell Wally ASAP after he came back from Barnaby's place

You like knitting so you thought it'd be fun to surprise him with knitted baby clothes, so you got straight to work.

Wally came home at around 1 PM, right after lunch. "Darling I'm Home!"

"Over in the living room dear!" You called, and he made his way to the living room.

Seeing your giddy expression has become one he's used to, but Wally had a feeling that something was different "Darling, you seem really giddy today, did something happen?"

To his question you grinned wider "Im happy everyday with you dear, but I suppose you can say the reason as to why is..." trailing off you picked up the yellow knitted baby outfit you have finished in the morning

Wally couldnt believe it.

Mr. Darling had always been known to have the same expression no matter what, but hearing this news caused him to have his jaw dropped to the floor (quite literally)

Most people would take this as a bad sign, but you knew Wally better than that. You could tell all sorts of emotions and thoughts ran through his brain

"I'll be a father? This can't be happening!" "What a miracle!" "Ill be the best papa for my son or daughter... or both!" "Im so lucky" were just a few he manage to say to you before deciding to kiss you all over your face with his signature slow laugh.

All the other 8 neighbours were delighted to hear that youre pregnant! Thanks to Wally walking around and casually telling them of course.

Julie screamed with joy, hugging you jumping up and down (dangerously close to you) which caused your dear husband to kindly and gently, push and remind Julie to be more careful. To which she complied, causing you to giggle

Sally, a drama queen obviously giggled with joy as well, only she knew better than to hug you while jumping up and down. She promises to give your kid a show once they were old enough to understand.

Poppy was shocked and happy for you and wally, so much so the bird started baking you a cake as a congratulations. She promised you that if you ever had any cravings, just give her a call and she'll be more than happy to bake you something!

Frank was delighted to say the least, despite his face not showing it. You knew he cared. And Frank being Frank, gave you heads up on pregnancy, what to avoid eating, what to do when feeling contractions, letting you know the size of your baby etc. This is his love language, info dumping. He will come and visit Home whenever you need him. As he is Welcome Home's book worm.

Howdy was very delighted. Gave you a pat on the back as well as a hearty laugh. Howdy started stocking up on baby items like pacifiers, diapers and baby toys just for you in the shop

Eddie of course, was just as happy as the other members of Welcome Home. Being the Mailman, he told you that once your belly grows big and you can no longer walk, he'd be happy to deliver your mails and or deliver things to you.

It was delightful having so many wonderful and kind neighbours all around you! And having a wonderful husband made your pregnancy journey fairly easy despite its occasional ups and downs throughout the 9 months.

BONUS:

Once your daughter came into the world, everyone was in awe and took care of her like the niece they never knew they needed!

Wally was obviously a fantastic father, and you were a fantastic mother

When your daughter is old enough, he'd teach her how to paint and they'd go on father daughter dates around the neighbourhood. Painting all they can see and proudly showing their work to you once they get back

Wally would read your daughter bedtime stories to help her sleep

Maybe even throughout the day as well

Waddles up to her father and shows him a book

"Oh? Whats this my sweet peach?" He'd startd "you want papa to read you this book?"

With a gleeful nod she'd get on her tippy toes and give Wally a full clear view on the book

"My sweets its not even bedtime yet are you sure you dont want to save this for tonight?"

He ends up reading it to her anyways

His daughter is his greatest weakness

It made you feel at ease knowing that your daughter is surrounded by kind and loving people <333

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REQUESTS

Masterlist here!

#wally darling x y/n #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #julie joyful #frank frankly #howdy pillar #welcome home x reader #welcome home fanfic #kichifanficsfw

[sebastianswallows]

It's not like any other love | S.S. | Part 3

— PAIRING: dark!Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian teaches reader Imperio in a more unconventional way, and satisfies some of his own needs at the same time (kisses, he just gives her lots of kisses).

— WARNINGS: needy and touch-starved Sebastian, non-con kisses, and generally an indecent use of Imperio.

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— A/N: It’s been a long time since I updated this fic on tumblr, I’m sorry my dears 😭 These last ones should come in quick succession, so, enjoy!

They were alone in the Undercfort again, where candles flickered around them, and the air was cold and stale. But it was quiet, even in the middle of the day with the whole castle bustling around them. They had about an hour until everyone was done with lunch and they had to go to their next classes, but neither she nor Sebastian could keep from experimenting with this new forbidden magic.

Sebastian first taught her the motion of the spell, coming up behind her to correct it a few times — completely unnecessarily, but he pretended to be a perfectionist about it when it came to her. After all, what other excuses did he have to hold her hand, and feel her against his chest, and nuzzle his cheek against her hair? He thought she didn’t notice, but it was hard to tell whether she was smiling at his veiled attempts at closeness or just focusing on perfecting the cast.

“And the incantation is Imperio,” he whispered in her ear.

“Imperio,” she recited.

“Do you think you can do it?” asked Sebastian as he stepped in front of her.

“I… I guess I could.”

“It’s not the sort of spell you can practice with on a dummy. You need a living target. And as with the curse before, you have to mean it.”

“I understand,” she nodded, but he could hear a tremble in her voice.

He wondered who she ever would want to control, then he thought how lucky her victim would be — to be under the power of her spell, to service her, to be the only creature with whom she shared that side of her, who knew her deepest desires, all those the shameful and illicit things she would only ask for under the compromising and desperate secrecy of an Imperious curse... What would she ask for, he wondered. He’d only ever thought of using it against enemies and turning them against each other, but Sebastian would kill her enemies for her for nothing. So what would she ask for from a friend?

“Do you think you can cast it on me?” said Sebastian without giving it another thought. He was excited at the possibilities the spell now opened up between them — with her shy and reluctant and him desperately in love.

“What!?”

“You can lift the spell at any time… It would be safe,” he said.

She looked doubtfully at him and, although her lips were parted, she said nothing. He hadn’t given it a thought before today, but the sudden idea of her using it on him, of being under the leash of her control, of getting to know her in this way that nobody else could — even for an instant, even without remembering it afterwards although he would definitely try — was far too tempting to let pass.

Would she simply test the limits of the curse? Ask him to move around, to tell her things, to submit completely? Would she ask for secrets she was curious about but didn’t dare admit to? Would she ask him to kiss her? Would she ask him to kneel? Would she…

“Would you cast it on me?” he asked now in earnest, grinning ear to ear. “Come on, I want to see you do it.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, lifting her wand and practising the motion a few times before saying, with her eyes fixed on him, “Imperio!”

Strange, thought Sebastian. He didn’t feel any different.

“Did it work?” she asked, staring at him as he stared back.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Tell me to do something.”

“J-jump?” He stayed firmly on the ground. “Damn,” she muttered, looking down at her wand as if it could be broken.

“Try again,” he said.

But the best she could muster from her wand were muted sparkles, and saying the spell louder didn’t work.

“Do you really mean it, though?” sighed Sebastian, arms crossed over his chest.

Beyond being disappointed that this wasn’t going as planned, he was disappointed in himself. Was he such an unappealing subject for her? Sebastian had never wanted to be cursed more, but if he had any doubts before, he laid them to rest: she didn’t want him.

“I guess…”

“You guess?” he arched a brow.

“Well, you try it, then!”

Before she even finished saying it, he pulled the wand out of his robe’s pocket, aimed it at her, and, “Imperio!”

The change was instantaneous. Sebastian gasped at just how quick it was, how dangerously easy, how much the same and yet completely different the girl seemed to be in the grip of one blue wisp of light. She stared at him out of milky unfocused eyes, her form relaxed and straightened, and the tense frown of her mouth turned into an easy smile. She blinked lazily at him as if time had no meaning, and she lived only for his words.

Sebastian closed his gaping mouth and, after clearing his throat to make his voice more steady, spoke. “How do you feel?”

“Happy,” she said with the echo of a voice, sounding like her yet not like anything he’d ever heard from her. There was no real feeling behind her words.

Sebastian took a small step forward. “Are you upset with me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.”

He stopped.

“What?” he muttered. “Why not?”

“You strike me as a bit impulsive,” she answered with a smile.

Sebastian straightened his back, offended, but could think of nothing to contradict her. “And do you dislike that?”

“Sometimes,” she said.

“When?”

“When it doesn’t serve me.”

“Greedy little witch,” he grinned. “What else do you dislike about me?” he continued, stepping closer as she spoke.

“You insult me sometimes and hurt my feelings. You say things that you know hurt me to try and change the way I think. You don’t trust me. You are sometimes dismissive of Ominis and I worry it will —”

“Alright, that’s enough, thank you,” he said, raising his hands. He sighed and paced in front of her, more worried than upset. “So why do you never tell me?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer. “I could try to be different for you. To be nicer, perhaps, or more… gentle, more like Ominis.” And as soon as he said it he regretted it and tensed, unbidden images coming to his mind of Ominis being gentle with her in ways he shouldn’t be, of him touching and caressing and kissing her where he had no right to. Her reply startled him out of his reverie.

“Because I want you to like me,” she said serenely.

Sebastian’s immediate reaction was elation, and then a sense of doubt. Did she speak the truth? Had it really worked? He thought of ways to test the curse’s power, but he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. He also wasn’t sure how long they could do this for, and when he could do it again, if ever. The thought crossed his mind that she might even be upset with him once released from the power of the spell.

He took her hands in his, holding her cold digits in his warm palm and pulling her gently toward him. She walked as Sebastian walked them both backwards until he was stopped by one of the tall pillars.

“Tell me the truth,” he ordered. “Do you love me?”

“I do”, she said with a happy smile. “I love you.”

She didn’t hesitate to reply, her voice remaining calm and pleasant, resonating in the emptiness of the Undercroft. There was even a sense of relief in her, like months of pressure on her heart lifting as she told the truth that had for so long weight on her mind.

His heart fluttered when he heard it. A rush of pleasure and hope and enkindled dreams made his blood sing and his skin feel electric. Sebastian couldn't help but smile widely as her words echoed in his mind. He looked into the girl’s eyes with passion, with care, with affection, and at that moment wished to give her everything, and take everything from her in turn.

“Tell me what you like about me,” he said. “Better yet, come closer. Whisper it to me.”

And just as placidly as before, the girl leaned in, braced her chin over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, all while letting her hands be held and warmed in his, their chests beating together, feet entangling on the dusty floor.

“I like how loyal you are,” she started, “and how brave, and how clever, and I like the shape of your lips, and how good you are at duelling, and I like how gentle you can be when you allow it of yourself, and I like your warm eyes, and your voice, and your scent, and the softness of your hair, and how happy you make me, and how determined you are against all the odds you face, and I like how warm you are, and the sprinkle of freckles all over your face, and —”

“Wait,” he whispered. He was already breathing heavily, just from the things she had said and the way they sounded coming from her, so close, so intimate, her breath tickling his ear and the small sounds of her lips and tongue against her teeth slipping in among her words. He felt a blush grow on his cheeks and spread up to his ears and down his chest. Never in his life had someone said such nice things to him, not Anne nor Ominis nor anybody else. He was filled with warmth as her words sank in, and had to stop her before his heart burst out of his chest.

“So, erm,” he started bashfully, “what do I smell like, to you?”

“Old books and Confringo.”

“Yes,” he laughed, embarrassed, “I guess that’s true. Suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

Sebastian brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently, then placed it around his shoulder. His arms then curled around her, holding her tightly against his front. He could not help himself after everything she’d said, he felt so much for her, like a rush of joy that made him whole. He could make himself believe that she spoke the truth, even though her voice was far away and dreamy under the effects of the Imperious Curse, and although he felt sorry that that was what it took for her to say it, he enjoyed this closeness with her, her voice in his ear, her shape in his arms.

Against his chest, Sebastian could feel her heart beating steadily, while his was ready to break through his ribs. He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her warm girlish scent while he waited for his nerves to settle.

“Tell me you belong to me,” he begged, his breath tickling her neck.

“I belong to you,” she whispered.

Her left arm was slung around his shoulder, where he’d placed it, while the other hung limply at her side.

“Hold me,” said Sebastian, and she obeyed immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on to him. “Tell me you love me again,” he said, feeling a shiver go down his whole body. It felt wrong to keep this going, to take this from her unwillingly like this, to satisfy his shameful urges for affection, but he needed to hear it once again.

“I love you,” she whispered, her lips close to his neck.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

The girl obeyed, speaking in heated whispers against his skin while he brought his lips down to her neck and pressed them right beneath her ear. She was especially warm there, and soft, and as he dragged his lips lower, he left a wet trail of kisses down until he reached the top of her shirt.

“Again,” he said.

Sebastian brought up a finger to tug her tie a little looser and dipped his tongue into the hollow of her clavicle, then moved back up the column of her throat. And as he pressed hot kisses into her skin, he could feel her voice reverberating through her skin as she said, again, “I love you.”

He moaned and pulled her closer, rubbing her front against his, wishing they could swallow each other up and never part again. His hands clung to the back of her school robes while hers lay loosely around his neck.

Sebastian pulled back, leaning his head against the cool pillar of the Undercroft, and caught his breath. She’d never been so close to him, and with his right hand, he leaned the girl’s head backwards, cupping her skull in his palm for him to gaze into her eyes — blank and foggy blue over her natural colour with the effects of the spell.

“Can you moan for me?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do it,” said Sebastian. “I want to hear it as I kiss you. Pretend to feel something, pretend you like it.”

“Yes,” she said again and tilted her head backwards as Sebastian brought his face beneath her chin to kiss her neck there too.

He could feel her gentle moans right against his lips, and little whimpers of pleasure as he nibbled at her skin — very lightly, careful not to leave a mark — and felt her shiver in his arms and press herself closer against him. His whole face felt flushed and his body was on fire, every nerve of his hungry to feel more of her, his mouth eager to consume her, his mind knowing of nothing else than the weight of her in his arms and the sound of her in his ears and the taste of her in his mouth.

Sebastian worked his way up to her chin and pecked it with light kisses, then slowly travelled up to dip his mouth beneath her lower lip.

“Sebastian,” she gasped, sounding breathless in a way he’d never dreamed of.

“Is that how you sound at night when you think of me, darling?” he asked in a moment of mad confidence.

“Yes,” she sighed.

Sebastian was stunned still at hearing it. Was that another effect of the curse? Had she just told him what he wanted to hear, or did she tell the truth?

“Sebastian,” she moaned again in a faint and quiet whisper. It was lost in the stale air of the Undercroft.

“Sebastian?” he heard call again, but this time it wasn’t in her voice.

He looked up to find Ominis standing by the entrance to the Undercroft, his wand out emitting red echoes in search of them and a little square wrapping of napkins held in his left arm. Sebastian’s blood froze in his veins for the split second it took to remember that his friend was blind. They were still in a compromising position and he couldn’t afford for Ominis to know what they had done together — or rather what Sebastian had done to her.

“Finite incantatem,” he muttered under his breath, and slowly he felt the curse melt away from the girl’s mind.

She sagged in his arms, a bit unsteady on her feet for a moment, and Sebastian held her up until she came back to her senses. He let his eyes drink her in for one final time, his gaze caressing her lips and the angle of her cheekbones and her eyes while she held her head in her hands and winced. Once he noticed she could stand on her own, he unwrapped his arms from around her waist and started walking closer to where Ominis stood.

“H-hello, Ominis,” he started. “Something the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. Only that you weren’t there for lunch,” he said, a suspicious expression plain on his face. “Either of you.” His head moved in the direction from where the girl’s breath hitched as she got her bearings. He could probably hear her footsteps too when she leaned against the pillar to cool her head.

“Were you practising something?” Ominis asked.

“No,” said Sebastian coolly. “Nothing in particular. We were just talking. Lost track of time, I suppose.”

“Then why were you saying finito after I came in?”

“Don’t worry about it, Ominis,” Sebastian groaned. His hands had begun to shake and all the warmth was drained out of his body. “Everything’s fine. Right?” he said, turning around to look at their friend.

“Right,” she said automatically, not quite looking up at either of the boys. “Hello, Ominis. We have class now, right?”

Her hand went to her neck instinctively, and it broke Sebastian’s heart to see her wipe away his kisses from her skin. Did she even realise what had happened, or was the cold feeling bothering her? Her hands went up to straighten her loosened tie next, and before she looked away Sebastian thought he caught a blush on her.

“I’m surprised you recall,” said Ominis snidely. “Nothing as interesting as the spells you practice with Sebastian, I’m sure. Do you even remember what class we have now?”

“Don’t be like that,” she muttered. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for… for…”

“Potions,” sighed Ominis.

“Your favourite,” Sebastian grinned, coming to stand by him with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Ominis narrowed his eyes at the comment. “In any case, I brought you lunch. Nothing much, just a couple of sandwiches.”

“Oh, thank you, Ominis,” she grinned brightly, sounding grateful and relieved.

“Can I have one?” Sebastian asked.

“I don’t know, can you?” he quipped. “And don’t roll your eyes at me, I can hear you doing it.”

The girl joined them and they stepped out of the Undercroft together. There was an unsteadiness to her still, which Sebastian could plainly see and Ominis could hear, but none of them made any mention of it. Sebastian’s skin still tingled where he had touched her, his lips itching to kiss her again, but beneath it was a nagging feeling that he had gone too far and betrayed her trust. He licked the taste of her off his lips one final time.

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;any other love